Living Tru









Distributed by the Heathen Kinship (Based on the public domain book “Our Troth” published by Kveldulfr Gundarsson for the Ring of Troth)

For the exclusive, private use of Heathen Kinship novices and members only. Edited for the Heathen Kinship by Vithar Herren

Writers of Our Troth (The original work on which this work is based)

Alice Karl sdóttir
Freya Aswynn, Elder
Audthryth
Bill Bainbridge, Elder
Sven Coman-Luger, Elder-in-training
Helgi T. Dagsson, Elder-in-training
Will von Dauster
Gamlinginn, Elder
Gefion
James Graham
Grendel Grettisson
Stephan Grundy
Gunnwar Skaðadóttir
Hagar Olson
D.	James O'Halloran,
Hawkmoon
Hrafnar
William Conrad Karpen
Richard King, Elder-in-training
KveldúlfR Hagan Gundarsson, Elder
Melodi Lammond
Larsanthony K. Agnarsson, Elder-in-training
Magnus Þórfinnsson, Elder
Jamey Hrolf Martin
Gert McQueen, Elder
Andy Mendes
Karter Neal
Laurel Olson
Diana L. Paxson, Elder
J.S. Pereira
Prudence Priest, Elder
Lavrans Reimer-Møller, Elder-in-training
Dianne Luark Ross, Elder
Siegróa Lyfjasgyðja
Snorri Laurelsson
Lew Stead
Lew Stead and the Raven Kindred (Raven Kindred Ritual Book)
Paul Stigård
Sunwynn Ravenwood
Eric Wodening, Elder-in-training
Swain Wodening, Elder-in training

and all the folk of Trotliline (Troth e-mail network; see 'Organizations and Resources) who spoke up about the matters written of here or asked the questions that inspired the writing.



Living Tru: Contents

What is the Elder Troth?

Roots of the Troth (Asatru): the History of the Germanic Folks

I.	The Indo-Europeans
II.	Stone Age
III.	Bronze Age
IV.   Celtic and Roman Iron Ages
V.    Migration and Vendel Ages
VI.   Viking Age
VII.	 Rebirth

 The God/esses and Wights of the North

VIII.	The God/esses of the Troth
IX.   Tiw and Zisa
X.    Wodan
XI.	Loki
XII.	Balder
XIII.	Frija and other Goddesses: Saga, Eir, Gefjon, Fulla, Fnja's other Women,          	Iðunn, Sif, Trude, Hella, Sunna
XIV	Thonar
XV.	Wulþur, Heimdallr, and other Gods: Bragi, 
	Fosite, Móði and Magni, Viðarr and Vali
XVI.	Nerthus and Njórðr
XVII.	Fro Ing
XVIII. Frowe
XIX.	Skaði, Gerðr, Earth and other Etin-Brides: Griðr, 
	Jarnsaxa, Bestla, Angrboda
XX.   Idises
XXI.	Walkurjas
XXII.	Alfs, Dwarves, Land-Wights, and Huldfolk
XXIII.House Ghosts
XXIV.	Etins, Rises, Thurses, Trolls, and Muspilli

True Being: Thought, Life, Soul, and Afterlife

XXV.		The Nine Worlds: Their Shaping and End
XXVI.		Soul, Death, and Rebirth
XXVII.	Ethics of Asatruar
XXVIII.	Bylaws of the Heathen Kinship
XXIX.      Godhis and Gydhjas of the Heathen Kinship
XXX.		Under the Law: Rights, Choices, and Dangers

Living True: The Rites and Worship

XXXI. 	Ways of Worship
XXXII.	Writing and Working Rites
XXXIII.	Ritual, Religion, & Theatre
XXXIV.	Working Rites and Holding Feasts
XXXV.	Rituals of Need
	Hail to the Sun, Blessing of Food, Greeting a Guest, 
	Drink-Toasts, Wodan-Blessing, Frija-Blessing, Fro Ing Blessing,
	Eir-Blessing, Blood-Brotherhood, Troth-Claiming, Hammer-Rite
XXXVI.  Symbel 
XXXVII.  Sauna 
XXXVIII.  Birth
XXXIX. Man-Making
XL. 	Woman-Making
XLI. 	Marriage.
XLII. Burial Rites

 Holy Feasts

XLIII. Yule
XLIV. Feast of Thonar (Þorrablót)
XLV.  Idis-þing
XLVI  .Ostara
XLVII. Waluburg's Night
XLVIII.  Midsummer
XLIX.    Loaf-Feast (Freyfaxi)
L.   Winternights

True Lore: Crafts and Lists

LI. Some Crafts of the North, Mend-Making, Non-Drinkers' Mend,
Drinking Horns:, Wood-Carving and Northern Art, Spinning, Corn-Dollies
LII. Things, Signs, and their Meanings LVII. Word-Hoard LVIII. Book-Hoard

What is the Elder Troth?

The word Troth means trust, loyalty, or a promise; it also means "belief"
in the sense "to trust in someone/something". The Elder Troth is the name
which we give to the common beliefs of the folk who speak the Germanic
languages (English, Dutch, German, and Scandinavian). These beliefs are
also often called by the Old Norse name Ásatrú ("the trust in the Æsir").
However, since the Elder Troth is not only Scandinavian, but was also
followed by the Teutonic folk of the Continent and the Anglo-Saxon settlers
in England; and since the troth is given, not only to the Æsir (Wodan,
Thunor, Tiw, and their tribe), but also to the Vanir (Fro Ing, the Frowe,
Njord, and Nerthus) and many other wights, the Ring of Troth uses the more
common term.  Here at the Heathen Kinship we use the terms interchangeably.

The Elder Troth, as it is practised now, is a reconstructed religion with
room for the whole of the Germanic world. Most of our myths were written
down in Old Norse after the close of the Viking Age; we also know about the
practises of our forebears through the accounts of foreign historians such
as the Roman Tacitus (first century of the Common Era).

The beliefs of the Elder Troth are that the god/esses of the North live and
are mighty; that we stand in the Middle-Garth at the heart of the
World-Tree, ringed about by the eight other worlds; that the birth and
death of worlds and humans alike are shaped by the three Norns who sit at
the Well of Wyrd by the World-Tree's roots; and that it is our duty to be
true, honourable, and worthy of our god/esses and our kin who have gone
before us.

This book is a collection of the writings and thoughts of
various folk who follow the ways of the North, offering a range of
perspectives on the religion of our forebears and its practise today,
particularly as carried out by the Ring of Troth, the incorporated
religious organization of which this is the official handbook. As the Elder
Troth covers a wide span of space and time, the Ring of Troth does not try
to limit its ways to any one place or period (such as Viking Age
Scandinavia or pre-conversion England, for instance). While the Germanic
languages and religious practises may have differed somewhat, all are
equally worthy. For our titles and our official informational products, we
try to use modern English or reclaimed/created Germanic English words;
however it does not matter whether the one-eyed god with the spear is
called on as *Woðanaz (Proto-Germanic), Wodan (Old High German), Woden
(Anglo-Saxon), Óðinn (Old Norse), Oden (modern Danish/Swedish/Norwegian),
Odin (Anglicized Norse) or *Woþans (Gothic). Nearly all of these names are
used by someone in the Troth (although the Warder of the Lore does not
currently know of any reconstructed Gothic kindreds), and, since they refer
to the same deity, it is better to learn to think of the different
linguistic forms interchangeably. For this reaon, different forms of
god/ess names appear throughout the book. Where there is no specific
indication otherwise, I have used general Germanic forms (Wodan, Thonar,
and so forth), but the forms used by other contributors stay as they are,
and where a reference is made to Old Norse or Anglo-Saxon sources, the form
that appears in the particular source may be used, so that the same god may
be called "Freyr" and "Fro Ing" in one sentence. In order to cut down on
any confusion this may cause, a word-list is supplied at the back which
identifies all the variant name-forms.

The Troth is, and has always been, a living and growing religion woven of
many different strands of belief - not only different god/esses and
families of god/esses, but of many ways within the path of each. Therefore
this book brings together as many different views on the ways of our
forebears as we could find folk willing to write or speak about the
subject. Nothing in here is a dogma; the closest we have to dogma is the
historical facts on which our re-creation is based, and most of those are
subject to considerable academic (let alone spiritual) debate. We have no
infallible "holy book": source and textual criticism are vital parts of the
development of our religion. Therefore, it is not likely that you will
agree with every word written here, or practise these rites and no other.
The purpose of Our Troth is not to set out absolute doctrine, but to give
true folk a wide range of materials from which each may build his or her
own troth. You may even mark, as you read through, that some statements in
the book could be taken as contradicting one another: however, everything
here was written by someone who is true to the ways and god/desses of the
Northern folk. We trust that, as a true person yourself, you have the great
thew (virtue) of free-standing, and will be able to make your own choice
between the differing views, or forge out a view of your own - for that has
ever been the way of the Northern folk.




Chapter I

The Indo-Europeans

The language of the Germanic people, and something of our culture, springs
from a much greater stem. The Germanic language, like Celtic, Latin, Greek,
Iranian, and Sanskrit (among others), is part of the Indo-European (I-E)
language group, all going back to a common root called Proto-Indo-European.

Little is known of the Indo-European homeland; what we do know about it
comes from the words that can be reconstructed from their variants in the
Indo-European languages. We know that these early forebears lived where
there were birch and willow trees; probably also ash, elm, and oak. Among
the animals they knew were wolves, bears, lynx, salmon, elk, red deer,
hares, otters, beavers, hedgehogs, mice, and perhaps roe deer; they seem to
have known eagles, geese, cranes, and ducks, as well. Their domesticated
beasts included cows, sheep, horses, pigs, and dogs. As far as their
landscape is concerned, they had both mountains (or at least big hills) and
large bodies of water. They were probably not a nomadic people, as both the
domestication of pigs and the agricultural terms suggest permanent
settlement and cultivation of land. The origins of the Indo-European
community are still a matter for debate among scholars. However, there is
general agreement that the people who lived on the steppes north of the
Black Sea between six and four thousand years ago were speaking an
Indo-European language, and were the cultural ancestors of the modern
European peoples.

It is important to note that the settlement of Europe by the Indo-Europeans
resulted in a cultural change, not a racial change. The peoples of Europe,
eastern or western, are and have always been a heterogenous mixture of
physical types.

What distinguished the steppes peoples from their western neighbors was
their language and culture. Like their western neighbors, the steppe folk
derived a large part of their living from hunting, fishing, and farming of
grains (wheat and barley) and legumes (beans, peas, and lentils). However,
the basis of steppe culture was cattle raising. Cattle were absolutely the
heart and soul of their culture. The word *dhenu ("nourisher") was
originally applied to milk cows. Later it was applied to nursing mothers as
well. In time it became a name for the immortal spirit which was believed
to nurture the soul of the individual. It survived in Avestan (an ancient
Iranian language) as Daena, which meant "Religion".

The steppes people lived on the upper terraces of the Don, the Volga, and
other rivers which drained into the Black Sea. They grew their crops on the
lower terraces in summer and pastured their herds there in winter. In the
summer the herds grazed on the vast expanses of the open steppe, watched
over by groups of young men. These groups were the cultural root of the
warrior-societies known to the various Indo-European peoples.

The cattle provided the muscle-power to pull the plows and wagons which the
villagers used to grow and transport their crops. Horses became important
for transportation only with the invention of the light two-wheeled
chariot, about 4400 years ago. Cattle provided the means for migration, as
well as the cause. Because the steppe people had developed a way of using
the resources of the steppes for nourishment, their numbers increased with
each generation. This new way of life was dairy farming. Steppe grasses
were far too tough to be plowed; simple wooden plows could not cut through
their roots. By raising cattle, then milking them and making butter and
cheese, the steppe people found a non-destructive way to use the bounty of
the steppes, as well as a way to obtain food from the animals without
killing them.

Of course, the herds of cattle also provided meat, leather, horn, and bone
for food, clothing, and tools. Sheep and goats provided wool, hides, meat,
and horn. Horses were originally raised for meat and hides, but were later
used for transportation. The men of the steppes were skilled craftsmen who
made their own tools of wood, stone, bone, horn, and bronze. They used
these tools to make wagons, chariots, boats, houses, and probably
furniture, although no traces of beds or tables have survived. They also
made jewelry of gold, silver, copper, and bronze. The women were skilled in
spinning, dyeing, and weaving wool. They were also the basketmakers and
potters, decorating their pottery with simple geometric patterns of lines
and dots.

When the steppe people followed the Danube up into Europe, they found
themselves in another world: a land of unlimited forests. They built their
villages on islands or river promontories which they turned into islands by
digging ditches. They erected palisades of upright logs for protection, and
built log cabins to live in. Whereas the steppe people had lived with
entire (extended) families under one roof, in these new houses, each man
set up his own household when he married.

In the earlier system, all of the adults of one family had called all the
children "son" or "daughter" and all the children had called all the men
"father" and all the women "mother". In this system there had been no
orphans and no private property, except personal adornments. In the new
system, which we still employ, each family, though still part of the
greater kinship system, was responsible for bringing up its own children
and providing for them. The earlier system of clan and tribe still
prevailed for several millenia, each tribe being made up of several clans,
each of which claimed descent from a common ancestor. Ancient nations were
made up of tribes which had allied with each other for mutual benefit.

The Indo-Europeans were a patrilineal (not to be confused with patriarchal
- KHG) society. Descent was traced through the male line. Because life was
short and many children died in infancy, a woman's most sacred duty was to
provide children, especially sons, to carry on the clan. The steppe people
believed that spirits lived on in the tomb and required nourishment.
Failure to provide a proper burial and offerings doomed the dead to eternal
suffering as a hungry ghost. This belief persisted for millenia among many
branches of the Indo-European people, including the Germanic-speakers.

The religion of the Indo-European people has also been much debated.
Sweeping and imaginative attempts have been made to reconstruct an original
structure by the scholar Georges Dumézil and his followers. However,
Dumézil's method has often been criticized severely, as he relied on
impressions and sweeping assertions rather than actual information (cf.
Page, "Dumézil Revisited", for instance). The structures which he claims to
be common to the Indo-European folk cannot be upheld within any individual
branch (as will be discussed briefly in the section on the god/esses), and
so there is some doubt as to how far they can be taken in regards to the
Proto-Indo-Europeans. We do know that there was a cultural emphasis on the
number three and on tripartism in general. For instance: the Indo-Europeans
had three primary colours - white, red, and black; there are comparative
suggestions that at rituals, a constellation of three different types of
animal was sacrificed; the number three is the chief number of magic and
ritual throughout the Indo-European world.

The hearth was the center of the domestic religion. The head of the family
was the priest and his wife the priestess. They made offerings of the
hearth fire every day at dawn and dusk. The fire was a living god, which
contained the vital spark of the family line. For it to die out was a
terrible sin which would cause horrible consequences for the family. The
father of the family made offerings to the ancestors every month at the New
and Full Moon. He made sacrifices to the powers of the fields in the spring
and harvest-tide of every year. All through the year the father and mother
of the family made offerings to the minor deities of the household: the
powers of the courtyard, the livestock, the trees and groves, all the host
of godlets who protected the people from calamity.

The greater gods received their offerings from the priestly families of the
clans and tribes. The knowledge of the correct ritual procedures and hyms,
the right to conduct sacrifices and receive a portion of the offerings,
were the property of particular families and were passed down from father
to son. The steppe peoples built no temples. Their sacrifices were made in
temporary enclosures, aligned along an east-west axis. The sky gods
received offerings on rectangular or square altars facing east; the
terrestrial powers received their sacrifices on round altars facing west.
The enclosure surrounding the altars was usually rectangular, but
occasionally oval. It was made by cutting concentric lines in the soil or
turf. Each sacrifice was a recreation of the world. In the mythos of the
Indo-Europeans there had been three primal beings: "Man" (*Manu), "Twin"
(*Yema), and "Shaper" (*Tvastr). Man, the first priest, had sacrificed
Twin, the first king. Shaper, the first artisan, had created the world from
the body of Twin. His flesh became the soil, his bones the stones, his
breath the wind, his blood the waters, his vital energy fire, his eye the
son, his mind the moon, and his skull the vault of heaven. Whenever a
priest sacrificed, he was recreating the primal sacrifice, renewing the
cosmic and social order. All those who participated in the sacrifice were
acknowledging their common descent and kinship, for it was believed that
the first human couple had sprung up from the seed of Twin, spilled on the
ground when he died. Each birth was a bringing together of the primal
elements, a recreation of Twin. Each death was a recreation of the original
dismemberment.

There is reasonably certain linguistic evidence that the Indo-Europeans
worshipped a Sky-Father or Bright Father, whose name survives in the Latin
Jupiter and Sanskrit Dyaus-pita, and in a more abbreviated form, Greek Zeus
and Norse Týr. Dumézil theorizes a double sky-rulership, in which the
Bright Father governed human law, social mores, the day, light and summer,
while his counterpart, the "Seer", represented cosmic law, ancestral
custom, the powers of magic, of night, and of darkness; the possibility of
this set-up is spoken of further under "Tiw". The Indo-Europeans probably
knew a Storm Lord, the god who brought the life-giving rain and snows, who
was also been the warrior god who protected the herds and the people from
enemies. The great enemy of the Storm Lord was the "Dragon". This was a
terrible serpent-like creature who swooped down out of the sky during
stormy weather and devastated the land before being bested by the Storm
Lord. To any resident of the American prairies, the "dragon" is instantly
recognisable as a tornado: it was only when the Indo-Europeans left the
steppes and moved into areas with less violent weather that the "dragon"
developed into a mythical beast.

Other important celestial deities included the Sun Goddess, the daughter of
the Bright Father; the Dawn Goddess; and the Twins. The Divine Twins were
the sons of the Bright One also. The Twins were originally the Morning and
Evening Stars, which were regarded as two separate entities. The Moon was
an unusual deity, for he died and was reborn every month. He was envisioned
as taking the shape of a white bull, and being sacrificed at the full of
every moon and reborn as a white calf two weeks later. His semen was the
dew which was gathered by bees to make honey, from which the vision-giving
mead was derived. The sacred mushroom also sprang up from his seed.

The terrestrial powers were even more numerous than the sky deities. Every
grove and spring had its protecting powers. The two most important powers
were the Lord of Water and the Moisture Mother. The Lord of Water was god
of the waters beneath the earth. The Moisture Mother was the goddess of the
fertile well-watered soils upon which the crops and the grasses depended
for life. One version of the Moisture Mother was the goddess Danu, "River".
She was the goddess of the river which still bears her name, the Don. She
was regarded as the ancestress of many Indo-European tribes: the Danaans of
India, the Danoi of Greece, the Tuatha de Danaan of Ireland, and the Danes
of Denmark. Many rivers still bear her name, including the Danube, the
"Holy River".

The Indo-Europeans had an alcoholic drink for ritual (and perhaps other)
use, called *medhu, probably very similar to the fermented honey mead of
Northern Europe. They were familiar with both verse-riddles and chanted
magic: for instance, one Old Norse riddle (set to Heiðrekr by Óðinn in
Hervarar saga ok Heiðreks) has analogies throughout the Indo-European
world, as does the "Zweite Merseburger Zauberspruch", an Old High German
charm for healing a broken limb. No evidence for Indo-European shamanism
has yet been put forward.

The Indo-European people probably began to migrate from their homeland
sometime between the fourth and third millenium B.C.E. (Before the Common
Era), spreading fairly rapidly. The first major linguistic change was the
division between the Western European ("centem") and the Eastern
European/Asian ("satem") branches (the terms centem and satem are both
words for "one hundred", the marker of change being the initial letter).
The major European branches are Italo-Celtic; Aryo-Graeco-Armenian; and
Balto-Slavo-Germanic. Much is still uncertain about the process of this
migration. It was probably not a process of one folk sweeping forth to
conquer and colonize on a large scale (as with, for instance, the Celtic
domination of Central Europe during the early Iron Age followed by the
Germanic incursions), for the physical types of people who speak
Indo-European languages differ so markedly as to suggest that, whatever the
original physical character of the Indo-Europeans might have been, they did
not spread in numbers great enough to affect the genetic makeup of the
local population. However, the Indo-European influence must have been
extremely strong, for very little pre-Indo-European vocabulary made its way
into any of the Indo-European dialects, so the probability of warfare as
one of the means through which Indo-European was spread cannot be
dismissed. The technical advancements of the Indo-Europeans, (particularly
marked in their use of horses), may also have contributed to the spread of
their language and culture: an analogy might perhaps be drawn with the
dominance of the English language in the latter part of this century.

Because of the homeland problem, there is considerable difficulty in
finding out when the Indo-European language/culture might have reached
Scandinavia. While there are many cultural changes evident in early Nordic
archaeology, identifying one as Indo-European is impossible. If the
Indo-European homeland was indeed near the Urals, then Scandinavia would
have been on the farthest fringe, and thus not likely to have become
Indo-Europeanized until perhaps the second millenium B.C.E. If that were
the case, it would open the way to much discussion of which elements of the
Elder Troth were originally Indo-European and which were absorbed from the
native ways of the North. However, the possibility also exists that the
Indo-Europeans originally stemmed from Northern Europe, in which case there
would be no evidence for a major cultural discontinuity between the
Scandinavians of the Stone Age and the Viking Age Norse. Currently it is
considered likely that the Scandinavian population remained relatively
stable, with cultural changes arising from a combination of adaptation to
climactic alterations and technological innovations filtering up from the
south: if migration was a major factor in the Indo-European spread, then
current theory makes it more difficult to explain the Indo-Europeanization
of the North. Linguistically, as well, the Celtic and Germanic speeches
seem to preserve many Proto-Indo-European features intact, which may also
argue for a Northern European homeland.

Contributors

Most of this chapter was written by Sunwynn Ravenwood, author of a
forthcoming book on the Indo-Europeans. Also contributing were:

D. James O'Halloran, Elder-in-Training, from Teutonic Culture: The
Development of the Folk (Eldership thesis-in-process).

Gert McQueen, Elder

Book-list (as compiled by Sunwynn Ravenwood, with the comment, "There are
dozens of books on the Indo-Europeans; (these), and the Journal, are those
that I would require as absolutely essential)

DeCoulanges, Fustel, The Ancient City: A Study on the Religion, Laws, and
Institutions of Greece and Rome (Garden City: Doubleday Anchor books, 1956.
Orig. pub. 1864).

Dumézil, Georges. Archaic Roman Religion (Chicago: University of Chicago
Press, 1970)

- Mitra-Varuna (New York: Zone Books, 1988)

Gimbutas, Marja, Bronze Age Cultures in Central and Eastern Europe (The
Hague: Mouton & Co., 1965)

- The Prehistory of Eastern Europe (Cambridge, Mass.: Peabody Museum, 1956)

Mallory, James P., In Search of the Indo-Europeans (New York: Thames &
Hudson, 1989)

The Journal of Indo-European Studies (periodical)






Chapter II

The Stone Age

9000 B.C.E. - 1800 B.C.E.

Scandinavia was largely covered by ice during most of the Stone Age: it was
the last part of Northern Europe to become habitable. The earliest
settlements in the Northland date to roughly 9,000 B.C.E., but human beings
did not become common there until a couple of millennia later. At that
time, folk were already being buried with grave-goods: the Swedish
Bäckaskog woman was sent to the worlds beyond armed with a spearhead of
bone and flint and a chisel. The dead may have been feared as well: one of
the Skateholm burials, a powerful man whose skeleton showed evidence that
he had survived a wild boar's attack and a flint arrow in the pelvic bone,
was buried with due honour and a sprinkling of red ochre - but his head was
chopped off and placed by his foot, an act which Norse sources describe as
a means of quieting the walking dead. Red ochre was frequently sprinkled
over the dead; animals or parts of animals were also set in the graves. The
Skateholm cemetery includes a few dogs who were set in human graves with
broken necks; a Danish burial had a small child's corpse laid on the wing
of a swan.

With the rise of agriculture, the cult of the dead also seems to have
become more important. About 3500 B.C.E., the people dwelling in the areas
of Germany and Scandinavia began to build houses for the dead out of slabs
of stone, often with mounds heaped about them. By 3000 B.C.E., these houses
had developed into huge passage graves, where the dead of a whole community
could be brought over a long period of time. Clay vessels of food and drink
were given to the dead; they were fully fitted out with weapons, tools, and
jewelry. The tombs and their mounds often had one or two circles of stones
set out around them. These may have been meant to ward the dead from evil
wights, or to keep the corpses from wandering out of their graves; the
stone chambers certainly suggest that the dead were expected to live on in
their homes (The Prehistory of Germanic Europe, pp. 97-98), a belief which
was certainly very strong in Germanic culture. Around this time, another
means of burial/worship appeared in Jutland: the graves were dug into the
ground, but a hut was built beside them where the grave-gifts and perhaps
the body could be displayed until the burial (Prehistoric Denmark, p. 22).

The next major change in Scandinavian Stone Age culture was the arrival of
such items as the cart and the well-fashioned stone battleaxe, about 2,800
B.C.E. At this time, burial customs also changed somewhat: graves were
single burials covered by low mounds, which were also marked out by stone
rings. More sexual differentiation can be seen in the grave-goods at this
time: men were commonly buried with stone axes, women with amber necklaces.
It has been suggested in the past that the "Battle-Axe People" may have
been an invading horde, but that is not commonly accepted now (A
Scandinavian Saga, pp. 75-76).

For obvious reasons, we know only a few things about the religions of the
Stone Age. Amber was very important at that time, both as a magical gem and
as a sacrificial item. Many Stone Age amber deposits have been found in
bogs, some totalling as much as 10 kilos (22 lbs.) of beads. These gifts
were probably given in the form of huge necklaces, and suggest an early
worship of a goddess who dwelt in earth and water (perhaps similar to
Nerthus or Frija?). Miniature axe-heads of amber were also worn as amulets:
the double-headed form of these is strikingly similar to the Þórr's Hammer
amulets of the late Viking Age, and it is possible that the belief in the
warding might of the thunder-god's weapon could have continued unbroken
from the Stone Age to the conversion (see "Thonar"). The National Museum of
Denmark also holds several small amber animals - wild boar, swan or goose,
and two fragments that may have been elk or deer. These are thought to have
been used as hunting-magic talismans, though it should also be noted that
the wild boar and the waterfowl, in particular, continued to be major
figures in the magic and religion of the Northern folk until the conversion
to christianity. As in later Germanic religious art, the head was given
special prominence, as shown by the small amber sculpture of a bearded
man's head from Norra Åsarp (Västergotland).

Axes, usually made of flint in the earlier Stone Age and greenstone or
porphyry later, were also particularly important. They were often given as
gifts to the gods, as was probably the case at Källgårds where fifteen fine
axes were left in three neat rows in a marsh, and miniature flint axes were
worn as amulets as well. A ceremonial axe with its butt carved into an
elk-head was found in Alunda; it may have been an import from Finland,
where such axes were more common, but rock carvings from Nämforsen also
show men carrying staffs topped by elk heads (Treasures of Early Sweden,
p.34). The use of ceremonial axes is attested through the Bronze Age; in
Old Norse literature, the hallowing axe seems to have been replaced by the
Hammer.

There are a number of Stone Age ritual sites in Denmark where holy feasts
were clearly held: food and drink were brought in pottery vessels (which
were then broken and left behind), and animals were slaughtered for the
feast at the site. There is some slight evidence that human flesh may have
sometimes been used in the lakeside feasting as well, though this
particular form of ritual practise was mostly observed in front of the
large grave-chambers in Sweden (Erikson & Lofman, A Scandinavian Saga, p.
62). The breaking of crockery and the leaving of the shards was
particularly characteristic of religious feasting both in the marshes and
at the grave-sites. This was probably done to send the vessel and its
contents to the worlds beyond so that the god/esses and the dead would
receive them. A horse-skull found at Ullstorp (eastern Scania) with a flint
dagger in it, dated to ca. 2000 B.C.E., is also thought to have been killed
as a sacrifice - particularly interesting in view of the great importance
of horses as sacrificial animals of the Germanic peoples in later times.

Musical instruments may also have been used in Stone Age ritual. A number
of bone and flint flutes have survived from that time, as has a bone
scraper from Malmö. An artifact from Kongemose has been interpreted as a
bull-roarer (a thin oval swung about on a thong to make a humming noise,
known to primitive cultures worldwide). Clay drums, both whole and
deliberately shattered, have been found outside of the Continental
stone-slab tombs. The folk of the Stone Age probably used rattles as well
(Lund, Fornordiska klanger, pp. 36-40).









Chapter III

The Bronze Age

1800-500 B.C.E.

The Bronze Age is rich in religious materials, both because the custom of
depositing offerings in bogs continued and became even more prevalent and
because of the frequent carving of cultic scenes on large rocks. The Bronze
Age rock carvings are found largely throughout southeast Sweden and along
the southern coast of Norway up to Trondheim. Although the coastlines have
changed since, it is thought that at the time they were carved, nearly all
of them were within sight of the sea. The most common images on these
stones are the ship, the wagon, the plough, the bare footprint, the phallic
man with axe or spear, the sun-wheel, and the mating couple. Many of them
are carved with little cup-shaped depressions which the Swedes still call
älvkvarnar, or "alf-cups"; in Sweden, offerings of milk and drink have been
made in these cups up to recent times (Ellis, Road to Hel, p. 114). Some of
the alf-cups are set in rows down the face of a sloping stone so that water
(or ale, or blood from a sacrifice) poured into the top one will run from
cup to cup. The cultic character of the stones cannot be mistaken: several
stones show boat-borne processions with lur-players or acrobats. Their
positions are similar to those of the little bronze figurine of the woman
in the string-skirt which was sacrificed in a bog at Grevensvænge, southern
Sealand together with several other figures. Among these figures were two
men wearing horned helmets and holding large axes. These figurines had pegs
underneath for fastening them to a base of some sort; it is theorized that
they may have fit onto a model of a ship, creating a scene like those on
the picture-stones (Kjærum and Olsen, Oldtidens Ansigt, p. 66).The most
common interpretation of these figures is that they represent fertility
rites, possibly depicting ritual dramas or processions.

The location of the majority of the rock carvings by the seaside, as well
as the prevalence of the ship, implies that the sea played a very important
role in religion during the Bronze Age - probably more so than during the
Viking Age. At this point in time, Scandinavians were capable of crossing
the Baltic and the North Sea; they were doing a thriving business with
Poland and the British Isles, and their supply of bronze and gold was
entirely dependent on the southward trade. Gløb points out that "Not only
was enough (metal) required to counteract the wastage of tools in constant
use; it was also needed for new weapons and ornaments for each succeeding
generation since so many personal belongings of bronze and gold accompanied
their owners to the grave. Sacrifices to the powers watching over the life
and fortune of the Mound People swallowed up a large proportion of metal
imports as well" (The Mound People, p. 134).

The ship may also have had some connection with the voyage to the
Otherworld in the Bronze Age, as it certainly did in the Migration and
Viking Ages. De Vries suggests that the tree which sometimes appears above
the rock-carving ship (Kalleby, Tanum, Bohuslan) makes it less probable
that these are either warships or the ship of the death-faring
(Altgermanische Religionsgeschichte I, p. 108); he associates it with the
Maibaume ("May-Tree") of German folk-custom, which is a fir, spruce, or
birch brought out of the wood and into the village in a festive procession
on May Day (see "Waluburg's Night". This would certainly seem to emphasize
the fertility side of the fertility-death equasion; it does not, however,
negate the role of the ship as the vehicle of the passage between worlds.
In this context, the ship-procession with its lur-players and holy dancers
might be seen as bringing the might of the gods into the human world, or as
bringing those who take part in the procession into the holy realm, or both
at once.

The wain is, of course, the land-bound equivalent of the ship. Both appear
as the bearer of the sun-wheel in the rock-carvings, and both are vehicles
of the Vanic processions as recorded from the time of Tacitus onward.
Probably the most famous wain of the Scandinavian Bronze Age is the
Trundholm wagon: the bronze model of a six-wheeled wagon, drawn by a horse
with sunlike decoration around its eyes, which bore an elaborately
decorated and gilded disk. A similar model, with two horses and a disk, was
found in a mound at Tågeborg in Scania. In the later Scandinavian
tradition, of course, we know that "Árvakr and Alsviðr they shall up from
here, / thin, draw the sun" (Grímnismál 37). By the Viking Age, the solar
ship has been lost, although the combination of solar imagery with ships on
the Migration Age picture stones of Gotland may suggest that the total
replacement of the ship with the wain was relatively late. On a social
level, the wagon, like the ship, is necessary for trade, agriculture, and
even transport in war.

At the time of the rock-carvings, the sun may have sometimes been seen as a
masculine being, rather than the feminine Sun known to Indo-European and
later Germanic tradition: several of the carvings around Oslo Fjord show
phallic figures with weapons, whose bodies or heads are sun-wheels. At
Finntorp, a wheel-bodied man is shown mating with a long-haired woman; at
Slänge, the phallic wheel-bodied man is approaching the woman, though they
are not yet joined. This could be taken as representing the marriage of a
sky- or sun-god with an earth-goddess. A number of these stones also show
stags with sun-wheels in their antlers, or sun-disks with "antler-like
motifs projecting from the rim" (Green, The Sun-Gods of Ancient Europe, pp.
80-1). It is possible that some of Fro Ing's solar aspects stem from this
period of the development of Germanic religion.

The wedding-theme appears frequently on the rock-carvings. One, at Hoghem
in Bohuslän, shows both a man and woman mating and a man copulating with a
cow. The latter is especially likely to represent the mating of sun/sky-god
and earth-goddess. Gløb also describes a stone from Maltegård in north
Zealand which shows a man and woman with strongly emphasized sexual
features reaching out to one another. A 'May-tree' stands behind the woman,
and the scene is surrounded by a wreath of spring flowers (The Mound
People, p. 167). The frequency with which the "holy wedding" is depicted on
these stones suggests that the mating was likely to have been carried out
in public as part of community ritual

The plough is an obvious symbol of fertility and prosperity. This meaning
is often emphasized by its context, as on the Litsleby stone where a
phallic man is shown ploughing with a branch in his hand. He is just
beginning the third furrow, which probably signifies that this is meant to
show a rite connected with the first spring ploughing. According to Gløb,
"On Bornholm the old folk used to say, 'Three furrows in Thor give a green
spring,' which expresses the hope that the old god of heaven will send the
blessing of rain over the field" (The Mound People, p. 150). The frequency
of the plow in the rock-carvings also suggests that many, if not all, of
the ceremonies/ritual dramas depicted on these stones probably took place
in the early spring, supporting the theory that some of the pictures may
show a ritual "Spring Wedding".

The bare footprints which appear on many of the rock-carvings have often
been associated with the story of Skaði choosing her husband by his feet,
and thus with Njörðr, whose feet were the most beautiful. This tale, which,
like the story of Freyr and Gerðr, describes the mating of a Vanic god with
a rather unwilling giantess, can, at least in part, be classed among the
"Spring Wedding" materials, and thus seems to fit in with the general
symbolism shown on these stones. It has also, however, been suggested that
the bare footprints were meant to show the passing of a god, or perhaps the
continued presence of an unseen god; and it may be that the celebrants who
trod in the holy prints were filled with the deity's might as they stood
there.

In addition to the ships, wains, and wedding-couples, the rock-carvings are
also dominated by giant phallic men with axes and spears. While we cannot
be sure in calling these figures by the names of the Germanic gods, their
imagery fits with the deities we know. The god with the axe may well have
been a thunder-god, if not *Thonaraz himself. In the Bronze Age, both stone
and bronze axe-heads were used as charms against lightning, and stone axes
continued to be used for warding and luck in the Northern countries up
until the present day. Thonar's priestly character as hallower may be
present in this figure as well: .the Hvitlyke stone at Tanum shows a man
with an axe raised above a mating couple, which de Vries interprets as the
hallowing of a cultic marriage" (Religionsgeschichte, I, p. 106) after the
example of Þrymskviða in which Þórr's hammer is used to hallow the bride.
That the axes shown here were ceremonial rather than weapons of war is
supported by the Västerås bronze axe (deposited as an offering with three
sickles), the size and weight of which (12 in., 8 lbs.) make it unlikely
that it was used in battle (Andersson, Jansson, Treasures of Early Sweden,
p. 38). The spear is well known to us as the weapon of Wodan, which hallows
the doomed for sacrifice; in earlier times, it could also perhaps have been
the weapon of the Sky-Father *Tiwaz.

Burial customs changed considerably in the Bronze Age. Mounds became
larger, perhaps as leaders and ruling dynasties began to emerge; it is
fairly said that "More work was done on buildings for the dead than ever
before in our history", and that the building effort for Bronze Age tombs
"bear(s) comparison only with that of medieval churches" (Erikson, Lofman,
A Scandinavian Saga, p. 95). The tremendous effort and expense of building
the mounds and supplying the dead with their gold and bronze grave goods
suggests a relatively high level of social stratification, an intense
religious influence, and probably a considerable degree of worship of the
dead. Some of the dead were buried in large oak coffins, which, combined
with the peaty soil of Denmark, preserved the bodies and clothing
remarkably well. The dead were buried fully equipped, often with very rich
goods, and food and drink sent with them. One, the Egtved girl, was laid in
her howe with a bark bucket that had been filled with a fermented
honey-wheat-cranberry mead flavoured with bog myrtle. At her feet were the
burned bones of a young girl, probably a serving-maid sent into the mound
with her mistress (The Mound People, p. 60). Fresh yarrow flowers were also
laid in the coffin, perhaps for magical purposes. The child in Guldhøj was
buried with three crab-apples, which may have been meant to give it life in
the Otherworld; the chieftain whose coffin lay beside the child's had six
small split hazel-sticks by his dagger, which Gløb also interprets as a
magico-religious grave-gift (The Mound People, pp. 92-94). In the later
Bronze Age, cremation became common, and mound-building much less so.

The large curling bronze horns known as lurs (resembling a sort of
sousaphone) appear frequently in the rock-carvings; a good number were also
sunken in bogs as holy gifts. They seem to have been made and played in
matching pairs (one horn curving left, the other curving right) tuned to
the same pitch. Their musical character was enhanced by the use of
rattle-ornaments which tinkle as the player walks. Clay drums similar to
those of the Stone Age were also used in the Bronze Age, as were
bull-roarers and flutes (Lund, Fornordiska klanger, pp. 45-53).

Ritual dance seems to have been practised by the women of the Bronze Age,
as shown by the stone carvings and bronze figures of acrobat-women clad
only in string skirts. Their positions are similar to some of those used by
current-day belly-dancers, and it has also been pointed out by the
modern-day shaman Annete Høst (personal conversation, Solmonth 1993) that
the positioning of the round bronze stomach-disks worn by Bronze Age women
would have been ideal for ecstatic ritual dance of that type.

Contributors

KveldúlfR Gundarsson, Warder of the Lore (from "Spring Rites and Bronze Age
Rock-Carvings", Idunna IV, I, Rhedmonth 1992, pp. 45-47).




Chapter IV

The Celtic and Roman Iron Ages

500 B.C.E. - 350 C.E.

The use of iron came to Northern Europe around 500 B.C.E. The period from
500 B.C.E. - 0 C.E. is called the Celtic Iron Age because the Celts
dominated most of Europe at this time, while the Germanic peoples were
largely limited to the Scandinavian area. Although linguistic evolution is
difficult to date due to a total lack of any direct evidence, the accepted
hypothesis dates the First Sound-Shift (Grimm's Law) which distinguishes
Germanic from other Indo-European languages, to roughly 500 B.C.E., so that
it is probable that the Scandinavians were speaking Proto-Germanic at this
time.

Compared to the riches of the Bronze Age, the Celtic Iron Age was a
relatively poor time for the Germanic peoples. The climate in Scandinavia
was growing colder and wetter, forcing farming practises and the general
lifestyle to change. Cattle had to be kept inside in the wintertime,
usually sharing a long house with their owners; the living practices of the
Northern folks in this period were probably unhealthier than they had ever
been. However, improved ploughing techniques which made it possible to till
the heavy clay soil also made it possible for fields to be used much longer
before their fertility was exhausted, making settlements more stable in the
long run and perhaps leading to a greater degree of social development and
cultural continuity. No longer maintaining the widespread trade network
which had brought them bronze, the Northerners were probably dependent on
the Celts for iron; the Germanic word is thought to have been borrowed from
the Proto-Celtic *isarno. In the early part of this period, the Celts
clearly held a position of social dominance as well, as the Germanic word
for ruler, *rikaz (German Reich/English "rich"/Old Norse ríkr, "powerful")
was also borrowed from the Celtic (Schutz, Prehistory of Germanic Europe,
pp. 312-13). The social stratification which had become noticeable in the
Bronze Age became much clearer in the Iron Age: the institution of the
warband, which was to give the heroic tales of the Migration and Viking
Ages their shape, probably grew up around this time, perhaps formed after
Celtic models.

The Germanic people were clearly not subjugated by the Celts, however; fine
Celtic-made goods often found their way north along the trading paths. The
most spectacular of these pieces is the huge silver Gundestrup Cauldron,
which was probably made by Central European Celts around 100 C.E., but was
put in a Danish bog as a sacrificial offering.

The Germanic peoples began to push southward onto the Continent roughly
around 200 C.E. It may have been about this time that the East Germanic
branch (Goths, Burgundians, and several lesser tribes) began their
migration into the steppes of Eastern Europe. It is also at this time that
we can begin to consider with any certainty that the Germanic peoples knew
their god/esses by the Proto-Germanic forms which evolved into the familiar
Anglicized-Norse Odin, Frigga, Thor, and so forth. The Gothic alphabet
preserves the names "Engus" (*Ingwaz - Fro Ing or Freyr) and "Tius" (*Tiwaz
- Tiw or Týr); it seems likely that the Germanic folk also knew *Woðanaz
(Óðinn), *Frijjo (Frigg), and *Thonaraz (Þórr), as well as the personified
Sun-goddess (and probably a corresponding Moon-god). Tacitus, writing in
the first century C.E., mentions a "Mother Earth" by the name of Nerthus
(which developed into the Old Norse god-name Njörðr - see
"Nerthus/Njörðr"). As has been pointed out by H.M. Chadwick in his
ground-breaking study, The Cult of Othin, the Roman and Greek accounts of
Germanic religion at this time and in the few centuries following are
remarkably similar to the Old Norse descriptions. It is, therefore, likely
that the basic form of the religion as we know it today from the Norse
sources was solidified in the first part of the Iron Age, though many of
the elements seem to have been present in the Stone and Bronze Ages as
well.

Sacrifices of goods continued to be made in bogs and lakes throughout the
whole of the Iron Age. With the increased scale of warfare, it became more
and more common for the victorious warband to dedicate their foes to the
gods. Captured weapons were bent, burnt, or broken, horses killed,
battle-captives slain, and some or all of the booty tossed into a body of
water. The oldest large sacrifice of this sort is the Hjortspring find (4th
century B.C.E.), which included 169 spear-points, 11 swords, remains from
several byrnies, and a large war-boat. A similar, though much larger,
deposit was made at Illerup around 200 C.E.; smaller finds of this sort are
relatively common through the sixth century C.E. The chief receiver of
sacrifices of this type, as described in The Cult of Othin, was probably
*Woðanaz; *Tiwaz has also been suggested, as he was once the "Sky-Father"
of the Teutonic folk and later identified with "Mars" when the
weekday-names were translated into Germanic, but there is little solid
evidence for this.

Human sacrifice in the bogs also became relatively common during this
period; the peat and anaerobic environment preserved these bodies so that
not only the corpses and their clothes and gear stayed whole, but even the
contents of the stomach can sometimes be analyzed. The most famous of these
"bog people" is the Danish Tollund Man. A relatively young man, probably of
high social status (his hands showed no signs of manual labour, which is
true for an unusual number of bog people), he had been fed a porridge of
late-winter gruel including a number of wild grains, then hanged and put
into the bog clad only in skin cap, belt, and noose. P.V. Gløb theorizes
that Tollund Man was a sacrifice to the goddess Nerthus, suggesting that
the gruel of blended wild and cultivated grains may have been a symbolic
mixture to encourage the goddess' spring return. He also compares the rope
nooses which several bog-people wear to the twisted neck-rings of the
goddess, "the pass which carries (the bog man) over the threshold of death
and delivers him into the possession of the goddess, consecrating him to
her for all time" (The Bog People, pp. 165-166). It is also possible,
however, that this hanged man may have been given to Wodan: there are ten
or twelve places in Sweden called "Óðinn's lake", and a South Jutlandic
"Óðinn's bog" (de Vries, Altgermanische Religionsgeschichte II, pp. 50-51).

In addition to the sacrifices themselves, many god-images survive from the
Germanic marshlands throughout the whole of the Iron Age. Perhaps the
best-known of these is the "Nerthus" from Foerlev Nymølle, a 9-foot forked
oak branch with a shape naturally resembling a tall, slender female form
and carving done at the crotch of the fork to make the identification
perfectly clear. She was laid in a cairn of stones with a heap of pots
around her; Schutz suggests that this may have been "her abode, to which
she retired between festivals" (The Prehistory of Germanic Europe, p. 332).
Both distinctively female figures, such as "Nerthus" and the smaller, but
equally explicit figure from Rebild Skovhuse, and definitely male figures,
such as the phallic god from Broddenbjerg (also found among a heap of
stones in a bog with pottery around him) appear; on the Continent,
male-female pairs are also found, such as the two from Braak (southern
Jutland) and the bridge-guardians from the Oldenburg moors. Schutz comments
that, "In spite of (the Germanic peoples') sophisticated tools and skill as
craftsmen, the awkward crudeness of all these figures is striking and must
have been deliberate" (The Prehistory of Germanic Europe, p. 333).

At this time, we also have our first record of holy groves. Although it is
likely that the Germanic folk had been worshipping in groves and on top of
mountains, as well as by lakes and bogs, for a long time, only the wetlands
preserved the gifts to the gods which would have long since have rotted or
rusted away in open air. Thus, it is only through Tacitus' report in
Germania ch. 9 that the Germans "consecrate groves and coppices" and his
descriptions of the holy grove of the Semnones (Germania ch. 39) and the
grove where the booty from the Battle of Teutoberger Wald was hung (Annals
I, ch. 61), that we know that the Germans of the early Iron Age were
worshipping in much the same manner as did the Norse of the Viking Age.

By the beginning of the Common Era, the Germanic people had settled
throughout most of modern Germany. Tacitus tells us that the many tribes
were divided into three larger groups, the "Ingvaeones" nearest the North
Sea (Jutland/North Germany), the "Hermiones" in the middle part of the
country, and the "Istavaeones" everywhere else. The Germanic expansion was
stopped in the first century B.C.E. by the counter-expansion of the Roman
Empire, which had already devoured Gaul and was now reaching over the
Rhine. Rome's attempt to subjugate and acculturalize the folk of "Germania"
came to an end in 9 C.E., when Hermann the Cheruscan (called "Arminius" in
the Latin sources) entrapped and destroyed three Roman legions at the
Battle of Teutoberger Wald. After that battle, the Rhine remained the
frontier between the two folks until the Germanic tribes began to cross it
in the Migration Age.

Although the Germanic peoples were never conquered by the Romans, it was
common from a very early date for Germanic men to serve in the legions;
Hermann, in fact, had been one of those soldiers, and learned the strategy
and organization which made the victory at Teutoberger Wald possible in the
Roman army. Roman goods, such as glass vessels and swords inlaid with gold
figures of Mars, also made their way north to Denmark. As was
characteristic of Imperial practise, the Romans along the border of the
Rhine integrated local belief with their own, so that a great many votive
stones with Latin inscriptions actually refer to Teutonic deities. Our
knowledge of the Continental cult of the Mothers (matronae - see "Idises"),
for instance, comes to us solely through such Romano-Germanic votives. Much
of our knowledge of early Germanic religion is through such altars and the
writings of Roman historians. However, the tendency of Romans to not only
translate the names of foreign deities into those of their own (the
interpretatio Romana), but to do it indiscriminately and haphazardly, as
with the unarmed and cornucopia-bearing "Mars Ollodius" (Great Tree) from
Custom Scrubs, Britain (Miranda Green, Gods of the Celts, p.118-19),
sometimes makes it a problem to determine which native god was meant. Mars
and Mercury are the most difficult names to evaluate, since they were the
two most popular and, in the Celtic area, seem to have been used
interchangeably (F. Benoit, Mars et Mercure). The other source evidence,
however, suggests that most of the time, *Woðanaz was probably the god
meant by "Mercurius"; whether "Mars" sometimes referred to this god as well
is still open for question.

The fluid character of the interpretatio Romana was not solidified until
the late third or early fourth century. At that time, the Romans had
acquired the seven-day week from the Middle East and set the names of their
own gods to it: Sun-day, Moon-day, Mars'-day, Mercury's-day, Jupiter's-day,
Venus'-day, and Saturn's-day. When the interpretatio Germanica was applied
to the weekdays, it resulted in a fairly standard Sun-Day, Moon-Day,
Tiw's-day, Wodan's-day, Thonar's-day, and Frija's-day ("Saturn" never had a
standard translation, perhaps because Wodan had already been used for
Mercury and the other Germanic deity of death was a goddess - Hella -
rather than a god). Thereafter, with a few antiquarian exceptions
identifying Wodan with Mars because of his role as a battle-god, the
Germanic identities of "Mercury", "Mars", "Jupiter", and "Venus" were
firmly established.

Even though the weekday-attributions were not originally Germanic, we have
been calling them by the names of our god/esses (and hence, knowing or not,
calling on those god/esses) for some seventeen hundred years. Thus the
choice of weekdays in worshipping individual deities is a matter of some
worth: as Wodan has been called most often on Wednesdays, or Frija on
Fridays, they are likely to be stronger on the days given to them.

For the three hundred fifty years of the Roman Iron Age, major changes were
taking place within Germania. Northern tribes were continuously moving
southward, partially in search of better land and partially because the
migration from Scandinavia was apparently continuing. The East Germanic
tribes in Eastern Europe, under great pressure from the migrating horde of
the Huns, were also moving westward into Germania at this time. In the
process of these movements, the smaller tribes that Tacitus had described
were gathering into larger and more powerful groupings such as the Alamanns
("all the folk") and the Franks. In 166, the tide of Roman
expansion/invasion was abruptly reversed: the Quadi and Marcomanni broke
the Roman borders in Venetia, and the Costobocci and the Bastarnae in
Achaea and Asia. The Romans quickly regrouped and closed the frontier
again, but not easily. In the middle of the third century C.E., several
breakthroughs took place: Belgium, Upper Germany, Italy and Greece were all
invaded and Gaul very seriously ravaged by various Germanic folks.
Eventually the Romans managed to restore their old borders, except for
Dacia, which was left to the Goths. Musset comments that, "In the end the
brutal energy of Diocletian succeeded, after a generation of disasters, in
keeping the Germans out of the Empire. But they had weighed up both its
wealth and its weakness, and were not likely to forget either" (The
Germanic Invasions, p. 11).





Chapter V

The Migration and Vendel Ages

350-792 C.E.

The turning point of Germanic culture was the Migration Age (ca. 350-550
C.E.). In this time, the Germanic peoples settled throughout all of Europe
and part of North Africa, conquering the Roman Empire by a combination of
military force and political treaties. In the process, however, they lost
most of their own heritage, so that the descendants of the Franks and
Burgundians today speak French; the descendants of the Visigoths speak
Spanish; the descendants of the Lombards and Ostrogoths speak Italian; and
only the Anglo-Saxons and those tribes who stayed in the area of Germania
kept their cultural inheritance. The great events of the fifth century C.E.
began with the great surge of the tribes across the Rhine in the winter of
406-07 - the surge which broke the Roman borders forever. They ended
roughly a hundred years later with the baptism of the Frankish king Clovis
- the act which was, in time, to seal the doom of Heathenism in Continental
Europe. Yet it was from this time that many of the legends which inspired
the greatest songs and sagas of the North sprang: the Migration Age was
also the Germanic Heroic Age. This was the time of wyrm-patterned swords
and boar-crested helms, ring-giving rulers and huge hoards of gold; this
was the time of the great heroes and great betrayals.

The Migration Age got its start in earnest in 375, when the Huns devastated
the kingdom of the Ostrogoths. The Ostrogothic king, Ermanaric, committed
suicide. This is generally thought to have been a religious death connected
with his sacral kingship, though opinions differ as to whether his
orientation was Wodanic (Caroline Brady, The Legends of Ermanaric) or Wanic
(Karl Helm, Altgermanische Religionsgeschichte). The Goths, however, were
forced to move westward in search of food and land. At this time, they had
been aware of christianity for several decades: Ulfila had translated the
New Testament into Gothic (giving us our only significant surviving example
of an East Germanic tongue), and christians had suffered some persecution
in 348 (when Ulfila was driven into exile) and 369. It was not until their
period of settlement within the Empire, between 382 and 395, that the bulk
of the Visigoths converted (Thompson,The Visigoths in the time of Ulfilas,
pp. 106-07). The new religion had not been accepted universally by the
beginning of the fifth century: Claudius Claudianus (d. 404 C.E.) recounts
Alaric as having said, "The Gods also drove me to these actions. Birds and
dreams are not for me; but a plain voice was emitted from the sacred grove:
'Cast away all delays, Alaric! Cross the Alps of Italy bravely and you
shall penetrate to the city!'" (Gothic War, in Grove and Gallows, tr. James
Chisholm) Alaric was successful in this: he led the Visigoths to sack Rome
in 410. However, though occasional Heathen elements survived in Visigothic
christianity, such as the wearing of torcs and arm-rings by Arian priests,
the Gothic religion itself had been lost. This process of migration,
semi-integration into Roman society through a mixture of fighting and
negotiation, and conversion, seems to have been a general model for all
those Germanic tribes who settled in Roman lands (Thompson, The Visigoths
in the Time of Ulfilas, pp. 128-29). The only exception to this rule was
the invasion of Britain under Hengest and Horsa in 449. There, not only
were the vestiges of the Roman military and society much weaker, but the
invading Saxons, stemming from a homeland far removed from the borders of
the Empire, had no reason to associate the acceptance of Roman ways with
the acquisition of a part of that large-scale power which Rome still
symbolized. Thus, Anglo-Saxon Heathenism stayed strong for another few
generations, and much of their culture still lived on even after their
conversion.

In 436/37, the battle took place which, more than any other, is the key to
Germanic thought and the way in which our folk wove myth and history
together to build an understanding of themselves and the god/esses. This
was the destruction of the Burgundian kingdom on the Rhine, when (at the
encouragement of Rome's general Aetius, who was himself of Teutonic
origins) the Huns swept down, killing King Gundahari and the rest of the
royal family and devastating the Burgundian folk. From the Roman historical
record of the time, this was a political maneuver to deal with a barbarian
kingdom which was rapidly becoming too powerful for Rome's comfort; it
differs little from the other conflicts of the time. The Germanic legends,
however, swiftly made the story a different one. Thus we have the tale of
the Rhinegold - brought from the river through the workings of Wodan,
Hoenir, and Loki, guarded by the dragon Fafnir, won by Siegfried the
Dragon-Slayer, and inherited by Gunther (Gundahari) and his kin after they
slew Siegfried by treachery. According to the legend, Attila, greedy for
the Rhinegold, lured Gunther and the rest of his family to his own hall.
After a great battle, Gunther and his kinsman Hagen were captured and put
to the torture, but died without telling Attila where the gold lay; they
were then avenged by their sister Gudrun. There are various, and widely
divergent, versions of this tale; the three best-known are the Old Norse
Völsunga saga, the German Nibelungenlied, and Richard Wagner's Der Ring des
Nibelungen. Despite the fact that Siegfried probably did not exist
historically, he became the favoured hero of the Continental Germans; his
death in Nibelungenlied (where the magically protected hero is speared
through the one vulnerable spot on his body by Hagen, who is described in
Waltharius and Þiðreks saga as being one-eyed) bears both a striking
resemblance to the death of Balder and to a Wodanic sacrifice. One of the
most mystical poems in the Poetic Edda is that which describes Siegfried's
awakening of the walkurja (valkryie) Sigrdrífa, who then teaches him all
manner of runic and spiritual lore, but also makes it clear that her love
for him will be his death. The whole Völsung/Nibelungen cycle sets the
personal spiritual initiation of the characters against the doom of the
Burgundian folk, with Wodan clearly guiding the process in the Old Norse
sources and perhaps showing himself in a more hidden way, through the
one-eyed Hagen, in the German version. Historically, the tale is at best
inaccurate: Attila was still very young when the Huns destroyed the
Burgundians; Theoderic, who was supposed to have been the greatest hero in
his band, had not been born yet in 437; and the Norse version of the story
then brings Gudrun's sons to the court of that Ermanaric who died in 375.
All of this has little weight: though the roots of the story are grounded
in the Rhenish kingdom of the Burgundian tribe and its defeat in 436-7, the
stem and the fruit became the very soul of the Northern folk.

A similar process took place with Theoderic the Great, the Ostrogoth who
took power in Rome at the end of the fifth century and effectively ruled
the Western half of the Roman Empire. Theoderic himself was an Arian
christian, whose main political agenda was to create a realm in which
Romans and Germanic folk could function effectively together. In Germanic
legend, however, he became a very different figure: not only the heroic
exile of Attila's warband, but born of a supernatural father (the devil,
according to christians...) and able to shoot fire out of his mouth. German
folklore has him leading the Wild Hunt down the Rhine; the Rök stone (a
Swedish runestone, ca. 800), calls on a Theodoric who "sits ready on his
steed, his shield strapped on". The identity of this Theodoric has been
questioned, but given the prominence of Theodoric the Great in Germanic
legend, it was probably he who was meant; like many of the mythic heroes of
the Northern folk, he may well have been seen as a half-godly figure whose
name and image carried much might.

At the end of the fifth century, the Franks had conquered most of modern
France (with the Burgundians in Burgundy); Theoderic and his Ostrogoths
held Italy; the Anglo-Saxons had England; the Visigoths were still
migrating from France to Spain; and the Vandals were settled in Northern
Africa. The Franks were the last of the tribes in former Roman provinces to
forsake the troth of their folk. This was brought about by their king
Clovis, who was otherwise best known for the way in which he had made his
regal power sure by the brutal liquidation of his kinsmen (the chronicler
Gregory of Tours mentions that towards the end of his life Clovis made
great laments about his lack of kin - not because he grieved for them, but
because he hoped to find another living relative whom he could kill).
Clovis, who was already married to a Catholic woman, decided that he would
convert if he were given victory in a certain battle against the Alamanns.
His conversion encouraged his people to follow his example, and the Franks
became christians - though the magical powers of the Merovingian kings were
still believed in until the end of the dynasty.

At this time, the tribes who dwelt in "Germania" still kept to their
Heathen troth. It was through the Frankish influence that much of the
conversion across the Rhine took place. The sixth-century Frankish
dominance over Frisia, Thuringia, and Alamannia did not directly involve
conversion at first; however, the Irish and Anglo-Saxon missionaries of the
seventh century were strongly encouraged by the Frankish rulers, as the
spread of christianity into "Germania" represented the social and
administrative unification of Northern Europe under the Franks. At the end
of the seventh century, the conversion/subjugation process began to expand
towards the North Sea, where the Frankish reconquest of the Northern lands
they had previously held and the christianization of the Frisians "went
hand in hand" (Geary, Before France and Germany, p.215). Despite the heroic
attempts of Radbod of Frisia (best known for his refusal to convert on the
grounds that "he could not do without the fellowship of all those who had
ruled over the Frisians before him, and...did not want to have to sit
around in heaven with a little pack of beggars" - Vita s. Wulframi, quoted
by James Chisholm in "A Toast to Radbod") to resist, the Frisians were
eventually subdued. Thus the ground was laid for Charlemagne's genocidal
wars of conversion against the Heathen Saxons in the latter part of the
eighth century. Charlemagne destroyed the Saxon religious centre, the
Irminsul, in 772, and carried out mass forced baptisms, stunning with clubs
those prisoners who were reluctant. The Saxons still continued to resist;
and after his victory at Verden in 782, Charlemagne "massacred 4500
prisoners, quite possibly as an act of personal vengeance. The result, of
course, was even more widespread rebellion" (Wallace-Hadrill, The Barbarian
West, p. 98).

England holds a special place in the religious history of our folk, for in
this country we see (at least for a time) a successful Heathen settlement
in a new land, which might well be taken as a model for Heathen folk who
live in places such as North America and Australia today. Seventeen of the
place-names which are given to the Anglo-Saxon gods describe natural
features, showing that the early English could feel the might and being of
their deities in places that were not already hallowed by tradition and the
bones of their forebears. Eight such names are formed with -leah (grove or
clearing in a grove), of which six are called after Thunor and one each
after Woden and Tiw; four or perhaps five are formed with -feld (field or
open area), of which two or three are called after Woden and two after
Thunor. The other four are Tysoe ("Tiw's spur of land"), Tyesmere ("Tiw's
pool"), Wodnesdene ("Woden's valley") and Woddesgeat ("Woden's gap")
(Anglo-Saxon Paganism, p. 15). There are also three "natural" place-names
which may be compounded with Frig - Frethern (Frig's Thorn?), Froyle
(Frig's Hill?), and Friden (Frig's Valley?), but it is uncertain whether
the goddess' name is actually the first element of these words (Wilson,
Anglo-Saxon Paganism, p. 21). It was not uncommon to name burial mounds
after gods; there are three called "Woden's mound" and two called "Thunor's
mound". The Anglo-Saxons clearly lost no time in blessing their new lands
and getting on with the worship of their gods and goddesses in the old
ways. We know that they built temples: these are described by Bede in his
Ecclesiastical History of the English People. A building has been excavated
at Yeavering which is thought to have been a Heathen hof: among other
features, it lacked occupational debris, was a focal point for an
inhumation cemetery, contained a pit which had been filled with regular
deposits of ox-bones, including skulls, and had a number of
"non-structural, free-standing posts" which may have been carved
god-figures of the sort which were apparently usual from the Iron Age
through the Viking Age (Wilson, Anglo-Saxon Paganism, p. 45). During their
Heathen period, the Anglo-Saxons kept up their close ties to the other
North Sea peoples. There seems to have been considerable movement back and
forth between Jutland, Frisia, and England; and, as discussed below, very
close ties between the East Anglian royal dynasty and the kings of Sweden.
Relatively little was written about English Heathenism; however, because of
the close cultural contact, it is not too unsafe to guess that it was at
least very similar to Scandinavian religion in the late Migration and
Vendel Ages, if not necessarily identical to that described in the Norse
Eddas.

The conversion of England is written up in detail by Bede (Ecclesiastical
History of the English People). This process began at the beginning of the
seventh century; as with the Franks, it started with the kings and was
forced on the common people from above. Æthelberht, king of Kent, was the
first target for the Roman missionaries, perhaps because he was already
married to a Frankish christian. Of the christianization of the
Northumbrians, Bede tells us that, "The occasion of the conversion of this
race was that Edwin became related to the kings of Kent, having married
King Æthelberht's daughter Æthelburh" (Ecclesiastical History, ed. Colgrave
& Mynors, p. 163); he relates a much fuller story, which is chiefly
interesting for the traces of information it gives us about pagan practise
and what may have been an English frith-garth of the Wanic type (see "Fro
Ing"). Thereafter the conversion happened swiftly. The last of the English
kingdoms to hold out against christianity was Mercia, ruled by the staunch
old Heathen Penda. Penda was particularly notable for his brand of
tolerance: he "did not forbid the preaching of the Word...if any wished to
hear it. But he hated and despised those who, after they had accepted the
christian faith, were clearly lacking in the works of faith. He said that
they were despicable and wretched creatures who scorned to obey the God in
whom they believed" (Ecclesiastical History, p. 281). Penda died heroically
in 659, fighting against Oswiu, a king who had converted not only his own
folk, but also King Sigeberht of the West Saxons. After Penda's death,
Oswiu promised his year-old daughter to be vowed to the christian god as a
perpetual virgin in thanks for the victory, a sacrifice of another's life
and free will which some folk might consider far worse than the Wodanic
killing of battle-captives.

Although this period was a dark one for Continental Heathenism, religion in
Scandinavia seems to have reached new heights of beauty and understanding
during the Migration and Vendel Ages. The carving of runestones was
becoming common in Scandinavia about this time; most of our surviving runic
inscriptions in the Elder Futhark date from this period. Some of the
greatest holy treasures of the North were made at this time as well. Among
these treasures were counted the Gallehus horns - two horns made from
several pounds of solid gold, decorated with scenes that probably
represented myth or ritual drama. Unfortunately, they were stolen and
melted for the metal in the last century. Still surviving, however, is the
great gold collar from Färjestad (Öland, Sweden). Made of five rings of
gold ornamented with incredibly detailed wirework and tiny animal and human
figures, the whole piece weighs 700 grams (about a pound and a half), and
the precision of the workmanship cannot be reproduced with the best modern
tools (Erikson, Löfman, A Scandinavian Saga, p. 149). An even more
impressive and detailed seven-ringed collar of the same ornamented type and
from the same period (ca. 500 C.E.) was found in Möne (Västergotland,
Sweden). These collars are too large and inflexible to have easily been
worn by a human; it is probable that they were made to outfit the wooden
image of a god or goddess, "carved from tree-trunks and with sloping
shoulders suitable for the collars" (Andersson, Jansson,Treasures of Early
Sweden, p. 56). The goddess Freyja's necklace Brisingamen may have been
seen as just such a piece of work; these collars might well have been
counted worth four nights of her love.

About 450 C.E., inspired by the visual art and technical skill of Roman
coins, the Scandinavians began to make the stamped gold pendants which are
known today as bracteates. A huge number of these exist, many marked with
runes and holy signs; many of the bracteate-images can also be easily
identified in terms of Northern religion. One of the most common is a rider
accompanied by a bird or birds of prey, who may represent Wodan; several
seem to show the death of Balder; others have a spinning or weaving
goddess, who is probably Frija. A man with a boar also appears, as does a
man with his hand in a beast's mouth. There are a number of bracteates
which seem to show various forms of shamanic practise, such as
shape-shifting and howe-sitting. The style of art is remarkable as well:
the lines swirl in a way that suggests an attempt to show swift motion and
the currents of might. The later bracteates are almost totally abstract in
the sense that it is difficult to identify specific animals or human
figures, but their patterns are still very controlled and powerful.

The artistic style which we can see developing in the bracteates - the
dissolution of the classical model leading to the weaving of complex
patterns in which the shape and symbolism are most important and natural
representation virtually irrelevant - is the native style of the Northern
folk, one which carries both great beauty and great soul-might. The
interlacing, swirling patterns which Northern art began to perfect at this
time have an hypnotic magical effect, like watching a weaver at work.
Images may also have been brought together for spiritual reasons: brooches
such as the Besjebakken raven, which shows a mustached man's face on the
raven's back, or the Skørping eagle, which has a bearded face staring out
from the crook of the bird's leg, may have shown the Northern understanding
of the god/esses working through the beasts that embody their might.

At this time, also, the Scandinavian countries were beginning to form their
first large-scale states. Rulership on this scale had a very strong
religious basis: the cultic centre was one and the same with the centre of
earthly might. As the great mounds at Old Uppsala (Sweden) and Lejre
(Denmark), together with the kingly practise of sitting on a mound to make
laws and decisions, suggest, the might of the kingly dynasty was, in large
part, founded on the ruler's relationship with his forebears and ultimately
with the gods who fathered his line (Freyr and Óðinn were the two most
often named as kingly clan-fathers).

The deeds from which legends are born were taking place at this time in the
North as well as on the Continent: the foundation of the kingdom of Denmark
brought forth the tale of the Danish king Hrólfr kraki and the heroes of
his warband, while the kingdom of the Swedes rested on the deeds and holy
deaths of the Freyr-born Yngling line. But probably the best-known of the
Migration Age heroes of Scandinavia is Beowulf. Though this warrior was a
Gautish (East Swedish) atheling, he is famous because of the Anglo-Saxon
epic poem Beowulf - the greatest word-work of the early English. As a young
man, Beowulf is said to have rescued the Danish royal hall Heorot from the
troll-wight Grendel who had been attacking it at night by wrestling with
the monster and ripping his arm off, then diving into a haunted mere to do
battle with Grendel's dam. The later attack of Beowulf's king Hygelac on
the Frankish territories of Frisia, and his death there in 521, is
documented in Continental record just as it is told in Beowulf. As an old
man, Beowulf is said to have killed a dragon that was laying waste the land
of his people, receiving a mortal wound in the process. The poem was
written down by a christian, and so there is little overt Heathenism in it,
but the whole structure of the legend is soaked with Heathen belief, as
well as being a clear guide to the basic ideals of Germanic heroism.

In particular, Beowulf seems to keep alive the memory of Heathen burial
customs. The poem begins with the ship-burial of the legendary Scyld
Scefing (see "Fro Ing"), whose body is sent out onto the waves with all his
treasures. It ends with Beowulf being cremated amid his weapons and the
dragon's gold before his body is laid in a great barrow on a ness as a
landmark for seafarers to look for "when the ships drive far over
dark-misted flood". For a long time, it was thought that these descriptions
were influenced by Viking Age burial customs and signs of the late date of
the poem. This was changed by the discovery of the Sutton Hoo ship-burial
(dated to the early 630s). Like Scyld Scefing, one of the last Heathen
kings of England had been laid in his death-ship, with all his wealth and
weapons around him and a golden standard above; instead of sending him out
on the earthly ocean, his folk raised the mound over him as he fared over
the dark waters to God-Home. This burial is very like the ship-burials in
the great mounds at Vendel (Sweden). The helmets adorned with gold,
beast-figures, and religious images such as the dancing twin warriors; the
shields with opposed figures of eagle and fish; the quality and style of
the workmanship; all suggest a common culture. The similarity between the
Anglo-Saxon and Swedish burials in this period when the conversion of
England was starting to gain momentum may also show that the kin who buried
this English king so richly were deliberately making a point about their
community with the Heathenism of the Swedes, and perhaps even setting up a
religious/dynastic centre similar to those of Sweden.






Chapter VI

The Viking Age

792-1066

To many folk, "Northern tradition" means "the religion of the Vikings".
While, as we have seen, that is a long way from the whole truth, the Viking
Age nevertheless plays a special part in the memory and rebirth of the
elder Troth. It was during this time that the Heathen Scandinavians swept
down on christian Europe, raiding and conquering; during this time that the
monks prayed for deliverance from "the fury of the Norsemen". The word
"Viking" itself, literally "bay-goer", was used to mean "raider" or
"pirate"; and this is the image which has fastened itself to the Northern
folk. The dragon-prowed Viking longship is thought of by many folk as the
very sign of Northern culture - fitting in more ways than one. Not only
does the longship show forth the warrior soul of the North, which is what
folk usually think of first when they see the dragon-prow raised, but it is
also one of the most advanced technological developments of Western Europe
at this time, and the exquisite wood-carving of the ship from the Oseberg
burial show that our folk were as skilled in the ways of fine art as in the
ways of war and invention.

The Viking Age is also the chief source of our surviving myths, recorded by
the skaldic and Eddic poets. This, and the following efforts of Icelandic
antiquarians such as Snorri Sturluson to preserve their country's heritage,
is the reason why most folk learn about the Germanic god/esses by their Old
Norse names, against the background of Viking Age culture. Again, it should
be noted that the elaborate word-hoard of our forebears shows us a great
degree of cultural development: the poetry of the skalds was more complex
in form and content, and called for a greater level of lore and wit to
understand it, than any poetry being composed in "civilized" Western Europe
at that time. These Northern "barbarians", in fact, believed that one of
the greatest and most impressive gifts a man could possess was the ability
to make poems as fast as he could speak. Perhaps the ultimate Viking,
showing most of the traits which characterized our forebears, was Egill
Skalla-Grímsson - a huge warrior with a furious temper and frightening
appearance, who was also one of the most skilled and subtle poets of his
age, a runic magician, and a prosperous farmer.

The dreaded "horned helmet" associated with the Vikings in popular culture
was, as most true folk know by now, not actually worn in the Viking Age -
and certainly never in battle. No horned helmet from the Viking Age has
ever been found. There is a small core of reality behind the fictional
"Loyal Order of the Water Buffalo" helms, however. Ritual horned helms were
used in Denmark in the Bronze Age (though the bronze horns were shaped far
more like lurs than like cow-horns) and archæologists have found several
Viking Age male figurines (including one from Kungsängen and one from Ribe)
wearing what at first glance appear to be horned helmets. However, a close
look at the earlier versions of the figure which appear on items such as
the Torslunda helm-plate matrices (Vendel Age) shows that the "horns" are
actually tipped with bird-heads; and those on the Ribe figure appear to be
whole birds. The heads are hardly recognisable on the Kungsängen figurine,
but if one has the other images to compare it with, it can be seen that the
slightly forked tips of the "horns" are probably meant to show open beaks.
In fact, it is likely that these images may originally have shown either
Óðinn himself, with his two ravens flanking his head, or else an
Óðinn-warrior ritually decked out to resemble the god - a far cry from
Hägar the Horrible and his cow-horn headgear!

In general, the keyword to the Viking Age is dynamism. The Northerners were
continuously reaching out in every direction, striving to fare farther and
win more - more land, more gold, more lore, more glory. The Viking Age is
thought to have officially opened with the raid on the christian monastery
of Lindisfarne, off the coast of England. This took place sometime in late
792 or early 793 (there are various readings of the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle's
dates). The next fifty years saw an explosion of Viking activity: the ships
of the Northmen sailed up the rivers of France (Ragnar loðbrók sacked Paris
in 845 C.E.) and were feared as far south as Moorish Spain. At the same
time, the Swedish Rus were trekking east to Miklagarðr (Constantinople).
Some of them stayed in the city as the Emperor's Varangian guard, others
simply conquered and settled their way along the Volga, building cities
there (the Rus founded Novgorod and Kiev in the 860's) and, in time, giving
their tribal name to Russia. In Ireland, where only small local
fort-settlements had been known before the Vikings introduced the very
concept of large towns and cities: Dublin, Limerick, Waterford, and Wicklow
were all founded as Viking settlements in the 840s.

The British Isles were the main target for Viking attacks, however, and in
850 C.E. the Danish warriors began not only to strike and raid England, but
also to winter there overnight and to conquer land for themselves to hold.
By the end of the third quarter of the ninth century, the northern and
eastern parts of England (the area known as the Danelaw) was almost wholly
under Scandinavian control; only the efforts of King Alfred (best-known for
the burning of fictional cakes) kept the Danes from taking over the whole
country. Alfred turned the tide of invasion in 878, defeating the Danish
leader Guthrum and forcing him and his folk to accept baptism as part of
the settlement which established the borders of their lands.

While the Danes were turning their attention to conquering other lands,
Haraldr hárfagri (Hairfair) was in the process of uniting all the small
kingdoms of Norway under himself as ruler, something which hardly sat well
with many Norwegians. Some were inspired by Haraldr's example to go win
lands elsewhere; others began to move to the newly-discovered Iceland (the
settlement of which started ca. 870).

When the Norse came to Iceland, they found it uninhabited except for a few
Irish monks, who hastily packed up and left, and a great horde of
land-wights and trolls. Although the land itself was of varied character,
including glaciers, volcanoes, and lava-fields, parts of it were green and
fruitful, the general climate relatively mild, and the waters teeming with
fish. The country was also said to have been largely covered with forest -
or rather, scrub birches of the sort that still grow there in patches. The
new settlers quickly established themselves in the farmland all around the
coast; the interior of the country was then, as it is today, totally
uninhabitable. The full story of the settlement is told in Íslendingabók
and Landnámabók; many of the better-known sagas (such as Laxdæla saga,
Eyrbyggja saga, and Egils saga) tell how certain clans came to the country
and took their lands there. This was often guided by the gods or forebears:
one settler, Raven-Floki, was shown the way by a pair of ravens which he
had blessed (blótaði) in Norway (Landnámabók); the Þórsgoði, Þórólfr
Mosturskeggi, cast house-pillars carved with his god's image into the water
and settled where they came ashore; and Egill's father Skalla-Grímr did the
same thing with the coffin of his father Kveld-Úlfr, who had died during
the voyage (Egils saga).

As well as explorers, settlers, warriors, artisans, and poets, the Viking
Age Scandinavians were also merchants, trading all the way down to the
north of Lapland and up to North Africa. Their chief items of export were
furs, walrus ivory, and slaves; many items of extreme rarity came into the
Scandinavian countries, such as the peacock found in the Gokstad
ship-burial (Erikson and Löfman, A Scandinavian Saga, p. 203) and the
lizard-skin purse from Birka (Foote and Wilson, The Viking Achievement, p.
195), but more common were such things as silk, wine, and glass. A great
deal of cash also flowed Northward; Arabic silver coins are not uncommon
items in Viking hoards. The major towns of the Viking Age were large
merchant centres such as York, Dublin, and Birka, where goods both local
and imported seem to have changed hands at a great rate. The Scandinavian
traders of the Viking Age, in fact, probably had a greater effect on the
West than the Northern raiders: as far-faring and ambitious merchants, they
can be seen to have brought a new and exciting life to the economy of
Europe.

The tenth century was marked by the consolidation of Northern gains and the
integration of Scandinavian settlers into the lands they had claimed. In
911/12, the whole area of Normandy was given to the Northmen from whom it
gets its name; more and more Scandinavians were migrating either eastward
into Russia and the Byzantine Empire, or westward to the British Isles and
Iceland. Greenland was discovered by Eiríkr inn rauði in 982, and
settlement there began a few years later. Bjarni Herjólfsson (after whom
the "Bjarni Herjólfsson Icelandic Navigation Memorial Award" is named - see
"Word-Hoard"), getting lost while trying to find Greenland in 985, was
likely the first European to see America, unless one believes that the
Irish St. Brendan really did cross the Atlantic and return in a leather
boat (not impossible, as proven by Tim Severin's "Brendan Voyage", but
perhaps somewhat dubious). Attempts were made to settle "Vinland" between
1000-1005, led by Leifr Eiríksson and Freydís Eiríksdóttir, but these
proved unsuccessful, and for some time the authenticity of the saga
accounts was doubted. However, the excavations at L'Anse aux Meadows, which
turned up, among other items, a Norse soapstone spindle-whorl, a
ring-headed bronze pin, and foundations of a sort typical of Scandinavian
settlement, have proven definitively that the sagas which speak of Vinland
are based on reasonably solid fact.

On a religious level, many other changes were taking place during the
Viking Age. Thonar, or Þórr, seems to have been rising to greater and
greater prominence; the Norse rulers of Ireland, for instance, were spoken
of as the "tribe of Þórr" (Turville-Petre, Myth and Religion, p. 94), and
the most common item which we can definitely identify as a Viking Age
religious symbol is the Hammer of Þórr, which often appeared as a pendant
and/or grave-amulet at this time, perhaps in response to the christian
habit of wearing a cross. One Danish jewelry-mould, in fact, shows Hammers
and crosses being cast together (Roesdahl and Wilson, From Viking to
Crusader, p. 191). The most famous "mixed piece", however - the
dragon-headed pendant from Iceland which has often been seen as a crosslike
Hammer with the christian cross cut into it - is sometimes suspected to be
simply a rather strangely shaped cross (Graham-Campbell, The Viking World,
p. 187). In any event, Þórr seems to have been the chief god of the Viking
Age, closely followed by Freyr. Óðinn, as the patron of poets and
especially the god of battle from whose names most war-kennings were
formed, is far more prominent in skaldic poetry than other forms of
evidence suggest was the case in general worship. The skaldic influence
also seems to have led to the (probably late tenth-century) formulation of
Óðinn's hall as largely or exclusively a warriors' afterlife.

A growing interest in the end of the world and the doom of the gods also
seems to have made itself felt in the last half of the tenth century. Part
of this may have stemmed from the millenarian hysteria which was gripping
christian Europe at this time; part of it probably came from the
encroachment of christianity on the Northern countries, as well as the
series of disastrous battles ravaging them. Both Hákonarmál and Eiríksmál,
the memorial poems of Hákon the Good and Eiríkr Blood-Axe, link the deaths
of these kings with the threat of the doom of the gods. Völuspá, which
tells of the last battle in chilling terms shaped by both Heathenism and
christianity, is generally accepted as having been written around the year
1000.

It was in the tenth century that the influence of christianity first began
to really spread into the Northern lands. In 965, King Haraldr Blue-tooth
of Denmark was converted, and he in turn (as the runestone of Jelling with
its bizarre tendrilled crucifix proclaimed) christianized the Danes.
Several of the Norwegian kings were converted during their sojourns in
England. This was the case with Hákon the Good, but upon his return to
Norway, thanks to the guidance of his friend Sigurðr, jarl of Hlaðir, he
returned to the Heathen ways which were necessary for him to keep the
support of his folk, and upon his death (961), the great Heathen skald
Eyvindr skáldaspillr praised him for protecting the holy steads and spoke
of his welcome by the gods and einherjar (Hákonarmál). The sons of Eiríkr
Blood-Axe, who came after Hákon the Good, were christians who destroyed the
holy places; Eyvindr speaks of how their reign was attended by bad weather
and famine. However, they were succeeded by Hákon the Great (son of Sigurðr
jarl), whose reign Einar skálaglamm describes in the most glowing terms in
Vellekla, telling how the earth became fruitful again when Hákon restored
the hofs and wih-steads.

The next source of christian influence on Norway was Óláfr Tryggvason
(Óláfr the Traitor - not to be confused with Óláfr inn digri or "St.
Óláfr"), who was likewise converted while abroad and who, with the support
of Haraldr Blue-Tooth, found it politically expedient not only to stay
christian, but to use his faith as a pretext for rewinning the sole rule of
Norway which had been won by Haraldr inn hárfagri. Óláfr promoted
christianity by bribery and, when that failed, sword and torture. A general
example of his methods was seen in the story of Eyvindr kinnrifi, one of
the most notable folk who resisted conversion. The king tried to convince
him "with blithe words", then with gifts and great banquets, then with
threats of death. At last Óláfr had a brazier of glowing coals set upon
Eyvindr's belly, which burst from the heat; Eyvindr then spoke his last
words of defiance against the christian king and died (Óláfs saga
Tryggvasonar, ch. 76, Heimskringla). Óláfr also sent missionaries to
Iceland, with variable success. He was killed in the year 1000 C.E.,
brought down by an alliance gathered by Queen Sigríðr (whom he had
understandably angered during their unsuccessful courtship by striking her
in the face and calling her a "Heathen bitch" when she refused to convert
for him).

The southern faith had found some interest in Iceland, however, leading to
much strife. In the year 1000, the conflict had become serious enough that
it was decided that all folk should live under one troth and one law, and
that the person who should choose would be Þórgeirr the Lawspeaker. He went
"under the cloak" for a day and a night, a description which may hint at a
shamanic ritual of communication with the gods and ghosts (Jón Hnefill
Aðalsteinsson, Under the Cloak). When he came forth again, he decreed that
all the folk of Iceland should become christian, but that Heathen practice
(including the eating of horsemeat and the exposure of deformed infants)
should still be allowed in private. Upon his return home, Þórgeirr cast his
god-images into the falls called Goðafoss. It is thought by many Heathens
now that Þórgeirr's decision actually made it possible for Icelanders to
preserve the tales and poetry of Heathenism, protecting them against the
economic stranglehold which the mainland could have exerted upon them (and
would have in later years) had they officially held to the elder Troth, and
thus leading to the rebirth of our ways in the fullness of time. Þórgeirr's
act of casting the god-images into the falls is especially interesting
since, as we know, this was a usual means of making sacrifices, and earlier
holy images were likewise hidden for Heathen purposes. We may perhaps guess
that these deeds were guided by whatever Þórgeirr learned while he was
"under the cloak" - maybe, with an eye towards what should become in the
age when the gods should rise from the waters of Wyrd and take their high
seats once more?

Shortly after Óláfr the Traitor, Norway was plagued by a second christian
Óláfr - Óláfr inn digri (the Fat or Big-Mouthed), a great tyrant and
destroyer of Heathen ways. Óláfr was more hated by the folk of his country
than any king before him; in the version of his story given in
Heimskringla, Snorri tells us that "He investigated the christianity of
men, and when it seemed lacking to him, he made known the right customs to
them, and he laid so much upon it that if there was anyone who did not wish
to leave Heathenism, he drove some out of the land; some he let have their
feet or hands hewn off or their eyes gouged out; some he let be hanged or
hewn down, but he let no one go unpunished who did not wish to serve (the
christian) god" (ch. 73). For these charming activities, he became the
patron saint of Norway, whose feast day is still celebrated there today.
Before his death, even the christian Norwegians were less enthusiastic
about him: when the Danish king Knút came to Norway, there was no one who
did not support him against Óláfr, so that he won the country without
shedding a drop of blood. Óláfr then fled the country, and when he tried to
come back, the folk rose against him, so that "they had there such a great
host, that there was no one who had ever seen such a great army come
together in Norway...There were many landed men and many very powerful
farmers, but the great mass was made up of cotters and workmen...That host
was greatly raised to foeship against the king" (ch. 216). Óláfr inn digri
was slain at the battle of Stiklarstaðir in 1030.

The Viking Age is thought to have come to its official end with the death
of Haraldr hardraði at the Battle of Stamford in 1066 - the last direct
Scandinavian attempt to conquer another land. Haraldr himself, who had
previously served in the Varangian guard in Byzantium (among other
adventures) and was known as a vicious and subtle strategist as well as a
mighty warrior, is sometimes spoken of as "the Last Viking"; certainly he
was not followed by any kings with great ambitions outside their own
countries, so his death may well stand as the end of the age. Ironically,
after the English king Harold Godwinsson had defeated Haraldr hardraði, he
was called at once to march his weary army back south to Pevensey - where
the Viking-descended, but French-speaking and totally assimilated Norman,
William the Bastard, had just landed with his own host. Harold Godwinsson
fell in that battle; the Normans took England, imposing their own system of
feudalism and, to a degree, the French language upon the Saxons.

Heathenism, however, survived longer in Sweden; it was not until 1100 that
the great hof at Uppsala was broken. Sweden had always been the most
conservative and the most religious of the Northern nations; and since its
contacts tended to reach eastward rather than westward and the other lands
bordering the Baltic still by and large kept their native traditions, there
was less pressure on the Swedes until the end of the eleventh century.
Today, Old Uppsala - the heart of Swedish rule and religious activity in
the old days - is still thought of as the holiest stead of Northern
Heathendom by many true folk.

With the suppression of Heathenism, Scandinavian artistic culture, which
had been so largely based on the Northern religious beliefs, eventually
ceased to be productive. The last phase of the highly developed native art,
the "Urnes style", had effectively died out by 1200, to be replaced by
rather inferior attempts at imitating Romanesque art; Norse poetry lasted
longer, but was already beginning to go into decline by the time Snorri
Sturluson wrote the Prose Edda (about 1220). The last bastion of native
Germanic creativity was Iceland, where the antiquarian interest of the
thirteenth and fourteenth centuries led to the writing of the sagas and the
preservation of the older poetic lore; but eventually the Icelanders ran
out of material and, having no productive/evolving religion to support
further literary development, went into a decline similar to that of their
mainland cousins.






Chapter VII

The Rebirth

1150 C.E. - onwards!

Some 150-200 years after the conversion of their country, the Icelanders
began to show a great antiquarian interest in the tales and ways of their
forebears, writing down both historical events and legends. The first
Icelandic historian was Ari Þórgilsson the Wise, who wrote down the tales
of the settlement of Iceland, now known as Íslendingabók and Landnámabók.

The greatest of these antiquarians was undoubtedly Snorri Sturluson (born
1179 - slain 1241). Snorri was the Lawspeaker of Iceland twice (1215-1219
and 1222-1231), exerting his office from a booth at Þingvellir which he
called "Valhöll"; a major political figure who negotiated Iceland's
integration into Norway - and, most important of all, an historian and a
skald who wanted to be sure that the dying art of skaldic poetry would not
be wholly lost. For the latter purpose, he wrote his Edda, called the Prose
Edda or Snorri's Edda - a compendium of Norse religious tales and an
instructional text in skaldcraft. Snorri was highly educated in both
Classical and christian mythology, and his version of the Norse myths shows
a great deal of systematization which may not have been there in the
original (see discussion under "Books and Sources"), but it is still a
major source for us. He also wrote Heimskringla, a history of the kings of
Norway, and is strongly suspected to be the author of Egils saga
Skalla-Grímssonar (not only does the style closely resemble his, but he was
one of Egill's proud descendants). The tale of Snorri's own life is told in
the near-contemporary Sturlunga saga.

In 1643, Bishop Brynjólfur Sveinsson acquired a manuscript which he thought
had been compiled by Sæmundr the Wise (an Icelandic priest-magician who
lived from 1056-1133, the source of many colourful Icelandic folk stories)
and hence referred to as "Sæmundr's Edda". This belief is not founded in
anything solid, but the name stuck, so that the Poetic Edda was often also
called "Sæmundr's Edda". In 1662, Brynjólfur gave the codex to King
Frederick III of Denmark; it is therefore called "Codex Regius", and is the
main manuscript from which the Eddic poems as we have now are derived. The
other manuscript containing many of these poems is Hauksbók (written down
by Haukr Erlendsson shortly after 1300), which also holds a version of
Landnámabók. Some of the poems which are usually collected in Eddic
editions or translations today come from other sources: Hyndluljóð was
written down in Flateyjarbók, and Baldrs draumar comes from the fragmentary
fourteenth-century ms. AM 748 4to.

The sagas themselves are divided into four sorts, "family sagas" or
"Icelanders' sagas" (sagas such as Egils saga, Grettis saga, Brennu-Njáls
saga, and so forth), "kings' sagas" (historical sagas of the kings of
Norway, such as those collected in Heimskringla and Flateyjarbók), "sagas
of elder times" (fornaldarsögur - those legendary sagas such as Völsunga
saga), and "sagas of chivalry" (mediæval romances such as the tale of
Tristan and Isolde, translated into Icelandic). The kings' sagas were the
first types to be written; the later parts of these (or at least the lost
sources of some), were actually composed by contemporary chroniclers from
roughly 1150 onwards, a practice which continued through the fourteenth
century. The first sagas of Icelanders were probably composed around the
beginning of the thirteenth century, and continued to be written through
the middle of the fourteenth century. The sagas of chivalry probably began
to be widely translated around 1250. We are much less certain about the
fornaldarsögur. Most of the basic stories were surely known in some form to
general Norse oral tradition throughout the Viking Age, and may well have
influenced the Icelanders' sagas - the most obvious example of this being
the famous similarity between Grettir's battle with a certain troll and
she-troll and Beowulf's battle with Grendel and Grendel's mother.

In general, the Icelanders of the thirteenth and fourteenth century seem to
have looked back at their Viking past with much pride. Sometimes they are
thought to have gone out of their way to make their ancestors more
frightening and bloodthirsty than they actually were; Roberta Frank, for
instance, has argued strongly that the saga accounts of the "blood-eagle"
were based on a combination of antiquarian enthusiasm about the wild
Vikings with misunderstood skaldic poetry (English Historical Review,
1984). With just a few exceptions (such as Flateyjarbók, where the compiler
seems to have believed that the name Óðinn could not be written without the
words "hin ille", "the evil", in front of it), they also seem to have been
relatively sympathetic towards memories of Heathenism. Sometimes this in
itself causes problems, as when accounts of "Heathen customs" that may or
may not have been accurate were added for literary purposes to give the
sagas that certain archaic flavour, but it has also permitted the
preservation of a body of lore unparalleled among the orally-based native
religions that were destroyed by christianity.

Antiquarian interest on the Continent and mainland Scandinavia did not
really get started until the seventeenth century, when the Dane Ole Worm
began his great work of collecting the "national monuments" of the Northern
countries. In 1622, he obtained an edict forcing all the bishops of Denmark
to submit reports on runestones and other antique monuments in their areas.
At about this time, the Swede Johannes Bureus (tutor and advisor of King
Gustavus Adolphus) carried out a similar work in Sweden, drawing and
beginning to interpret a great many of Sweden's runestones (many of which
have since been lost and are known to us only through his drawings). These
two men may be thought of as the founders of modern runic studies. After
Bishop Brynjólfur's gift of the "Codex Regius" to King Frederick III, the
Eddic poems began to be published and more widely circulated and known.

This antiquarian interest continued to simmer on a low level until the
nineteenth century. At that time, the general awareness of Europe turned
towards "romanticism" - the interest in spiritual development, guidance by
soul and emotion, and the belief in an idealized past. This, combined with
the new nationalism which was particularly sparking those folks with no
direct Classical/Western heritage (mostly Germans and Scandinavians) to
seek their national identity in their own origins, led to a great upsurge
in the awareness of a Germanic past. This upsurge was manifested in such
groups as the Swedish Gotiska Förbund, which combined an interest in
ancient Norse literature and culture with the desire for national
independence and reform. It also appeared in persons such as the Grimm
Brothers, Jacob and Wilhelm, who collected and published their "fairy
tales" between 1816-18. Jacob Grimm went on to found modern Germanic
philology; in 1844, he produced his massive study, Deutsche Mythologie
(Teutonic Mythology), which linked Norse literature with folklore from all
over the Germanic world.

Perhaps the greatest of the German "romantics" was Richard Wagner, whose
four-opera cycle Der Ring des Nibelungen, was first performed in 1876. This
huge work (15-18 hours of solid music, depending on how slowly it is
conducted) was loosely based on Völsunga saga, considerably altered by
Wagner's own rather idiosyncratic ideas on politics, love, and life, but
also informed and inspired by an immense amount of research into Norse
literature and Germanic traditions. The Ring Cycle is probably the
best-known single source for Germanic mythology today. Unfortunately,
Wagner's attitude towards the god/esses was not particularly good (in
places, bloody awful), and his version of the religion is slightly warped
(It is probably a good idea for those true folk who deal with the general
public to watch the Ring Cycle after having read both Saga of the Volsungs
and Nibelungenlied; the current Warder of the Lore found it needful at one
point to prepare a long handout detailing the differences between Wagner
and the other two versions). However, he was also a deeply inspired man
whose wide reading in Germanic tradition always makes his works worthy of
consideration, whether or not he chose to change the stories. His main
contribution to modern Germanic religion may be the linking of Loki with
Loge and the interpretation of Loki as a fire-spirit - which academics
today do not generally accept, but which has stuck deeply into the
awareness of most Ásatrúar. He has also given us an image of valkyries
which is very hard to shake...

In the last years of the nineteenth and the first two decades of the
twentieth century, Germanic mysticism found a new degree of interest among
the younger folk of Germany. A number of small bands and "Germanic
prophets" sprang up at this time. Among these, perhaps the most prominent
was Guido von List, inventor/discoverer of the eighteen-rune Armanen
futhark. At this time, unfortunately, Germanic mysticism, political
pan-Germanism, and racism, especially anti-Semitism, were beginning to be
strongly linked - a linkage which had not previously existed. In
particular, the anti-Semitism which was so deeply ingrained in continental
German culture by the nineteenth century was a product of the intense
persecution of the Jews encouraged by the christian church in the later
Middle Ages; it was a concept which would have been wholly unfathomable to
the Heathen tribes of Germany, and which seems never to have reached
Scandinavia at all. However, the combination of the mediæval christian fear
and loathing of the Jews with Darwin's discoveries about evolution and
genetic inheritance, the native Germanic love for clan and kin, and the
newfound sense of nationalism provided a deadly mixture of ideology and
powerful, though distorted imagery - which led to the greatest harm
Germanic religion and culture have suffered since the hof-breakings of the
eleventh century. "The Nazis did not invent neo-Germanism - they subverted
something that was already strong for their own political purposes.
Unfortunately, many would-be revivalists of Germanic culture, religion, and
magic are all too enamoured of the Nazi mythos and mystique. The National
Socialists did not advance the cause of Germanism - they set it back at
least 100 years" (Edred Thorsson, "A Short History of the Revival of the
Troth", p. 8).

While the Nazi movement used many Germanic signs of power, such as the
swastika and some of the runes, Germanic religion essentially played no
part in it. Aside from a few half-hearted attempts to replace christian
holidays with vaguely pagan solstice-feasts, the Nazi regime was from
beginning to end a cult focused towards a single personality, Adolf Hitler
- who himself believed in nothing but his own will and sense of destiny.
Germanic studies in general were encouraged and tolerated only insofar as
they supported Nazi ideology; discoveries or historical materials which
contradicted that ideology had to be carefully re-interpreted. A small
example of this may be seen by Nazi-era depictions of the clothing of
Bronze Age women, which was known to have sometimes consisted only of a
string skirt and a blouse (such as those in which the Egtved girl was
buried) or even only a string skirt (such as those on the
goddess/belly-dancer images from this period). In Nazi Germany, however,
Bronze Age women were always shown as wearing long and modest dresses -
sometimes with the string skirt sketched in as a kind of decorative
overgarment (Gløb, The Mound People, p. 64). The purpose of this alteration
was, of course, to demonstrate conclusively that the Germanic women had
always been the most modest and chaste of ladies, as according to proper
Nazi ideology (though some may not think this as terrible as negligently
attributing the Bronze Age string skirt to "800-1000 A.D.", two thousand
years after its actual date, as was done by Ed Fitch in Rites of Odin).
During the Nazi era, Germanic religion and history were, in short, simply
treated as any other propaganda tools, with complete disregard for the
actual beliefs of the Heathen Teutons, the god/esses in who they believed,
and the very underpinnings of the Northern culture. Anyone who doubts this
has only to try picturing a free-minded Viking or Germanic tribesman
accepting the suggestion that he be shorn like a thrall and made to wear a
uniform and march in step, obedient to the least word of his leader - or a
woman such as Signý the Völsung, Sigríðr the Proud, Unnr the Deep-Minded,
or Freydís Eiríksdóttir listening meekly to the news that her sole purpose
for being is to bear strong sons for "the race"!

Despite the fact that the Nazi movement was not, for all its trimmings, a
product of the elder Germanic culture, the imagery of native Teutonicism it
used became so closely associated with it that no more attempts were made
to revive the elder ways for some time. Even now, more than a full
generation later, the taint of Nazism is one with which all true folk who
are open about their Heathenism have to deal sooner or later. It keeps us
from using one of the holiest signs of our forebears, the swastika, in
public where it might distress people or give them the wrong idea about us
(that is, the idea that we might be neo-Nazis, fascists, or racists), and
often leads to suspicious glances when we speak about the runes, Wodan,
Thonar, or our Germanic heritage (this problem is not only rife among the
general public, but even among other Pagan folk, who have in previous years
gotten an impression that Ásatrú consists largely of the "Thor-and-swastika
boys"). In the era immediately following World War II, Germanic religion
and culture were largely taboo subjects: everything "German" was tarred
with the same brush.

In the 1950s, however, Karl Spiesberger reached back to bring up the
Armanen rune-magic of Guido von List again, while an Australian by the name
of A. Rud Mills produced a series of books on the elder religion. They did
not meet with great success, though small Armanen groups have continued in
Germany since.

The next appearance of Teutonic culture in a mainstream setting was given
to us, ironically, by a deeply christian scholar of Germanic philology -
Professor J.R.R. Tolkien, author of Lord of the Rings. Tolkien's work draws
extensively on Germanic literature: for instance, his dwarf-names come
straight out of the Poetic Edda (including "Gandalf" - "wand-alf" or
"magical alf"), Bilbo's theft of the cup which awakens the dragon is a
straight steal from Beowulf, and Aragorn's ancestral sword - broken at his
father's death and reforged again when it is time for him to win his
rightful place - bears a suspicious resemblance to the sword of the
Völsungs. Tolkien's use of the English language was also strongly
influenced by his knowledge of Germanic word-roots, as well as his
extensive background in Anglo-Saxon and Old Norse literature. It has often
been said of Tolkien that he gave the English-speaking peoples a
folk-heritage, but this is only half-true; it would be better said that he
is the little thief who brought Sága's gold cup into the light and thus
awakened the dragon of the Northern ways which had slept so long in the
barrow-mound of our forebears. From Tolkien's work stemmed, in large part,
the modern explosion of interest in "fantasy literature" - the literature
which makes use of the archetypal elements of magic, heroic questing, and
wights beyond humanity and the limited pantheon of the Abrahamic religions;
and from that stemmed a reborn interest in the magic, history, and
ultimately religion of the North, from which much of the most effective
"fantasy literature" since Tolkien has drawn its might.

The bud of rebirth blossomed in 1970.  In Texas three men were independently drawn to the Elder Troth, Stephen Flowers (Edred Thorsson), Valgard Murray, and Steve McNallen each began to study and practice the ancient ways of their ancestors.  In time they would run across each other and realize they had each independently started on the Elder Path.  In 1973, Sveinbjörn Beinteinsson founded
the Ásatrú movement of Iceland and Stephen McNallen founded the Ásatrú Free
Assembly of America. The former is still going, and Ásatrú is accepted as
one of the official religions of Iceland; the history of the latter was
rockier. However, the Ásatrú Free Assembly did manage to establish Ásatrú
solidly as a re-created Heathen religion. In 1980, Edred Thorsson founded
the Rune-Gild as a magical/initiatory Order for those dedicated to the
study of runic galdr-magic.

During the same period of time, Garman Lord was also reviving the related
Northern tradition of Theodism, which, unlike the AFA (whose focus was
almost totally on the Viking Age), concentrated on the lore and beliefs of
the Heathen Anglo-Saxons. The Theodish movement continues today and is
closely linked with the Troth. The Odinic Rite was also moving to gain
acceptance in England; it split up a couple of years ago, and at present
there are two groups going by the name "Odinic Rite". The main focus of
Ásatrú in Great Britain, however, is the active and swiftly-growing
Rune-Gild UK, headed by Drightning Freya Aswynn (Troth Elder, High Rede
member, author of Leaves of Yggdrasil).

The Ásatrú Free Assembly broke up in 1987. Near the end of the same year,
Edred Thorsson (as Warden of the Lore) and James Chisholm (Steersman)
founded the Ring of Troth, an explicitly non-racist organization dedicated
to the promotion of the religion and culture of the Germanic peoples. In
1988, the Ásatrú Alliance, a small group of loosely-organized member
kindreds with a decidedly more conservative and less scholastically-based
slant on the religion than that promoted by the Troth, was also founded and
began to publish its minimal-production quarterly newsletter, Vor Tru and
to hold a general moot called the Althing in Arizona every summer. At their
last Althing, the A.A. produced the official ideological declaration that
"Ásatrú is the ethnic religion of the indigenous Northern European
peoples".

Edred Thorsson's A Book of Troth, outlining some of the general ideas,
rituals, and organizational elements of the Troth, was published by
Llewellyn in 1989. Since its founding, the Troth has also continued to
produce a quarterly magazine, Idunna, heroically edited by Shope Dianne
Ross from 1988 until mid-1991, when it was taken over and dramatically
expanded by Shope Þórfinn Einarsson. At Ostara of 1992, James Chisholm
turned the Steersmanship over to current Steerswoman Prudence Priest and
Edred Thorsson stepped down from his office, leaving it to KveldúlfR
Gundarsson, current Warder of the Lore. A full High Rede was also appointed
at this time.

In 1991 Ymir Thunarsson founded Eagles Reaches in Houston, TX.  Eagles Reaches rapidly expanded and began producing a glossy magazine called “on the Wings of Eagles” late in the same year.  In 1994 Eagles Reaches evolved into Irminsway, founded by Vithar Herren (Sam Herren).  This group changed its name to The Heathen Kinship in 2006.

Another notable Northern-tradition organization which has made itself known
in the last years (though even smaller than the Ásatrú Alliance), is
Hrafnar, a San Francisco group headed by Diana Paxson. Hrafnar is
particularly well-known for reconstructing the practice of seiðr or
spae-working, a form of Northern magic loosely related to shamanism.

From mid-1991 through the end of 1993, the general Ásatrú community was
also served by the independent glossy-covered magazine Mountain Thunder, a
beautiful production edited and put out at an unreasonably low price by
Will von Dauster (careful readers will mark that many of the chapters in
this book are taken from, or refer to, works originally printed in Mountain
Thunder). Unfortunately, it proved impossible to maintain such a
high-quality magazine at such a low cost, and rather than compromise his
standards, von Dauster chose to stop publishing the magazine. Back issues
and article reprints are, however, available (address under "Organizations
and Resources"). Will von Dauster has also begun to publish a smaller
Ásatrú newsletter, which discusses matters and happenings of importance to
the Heathen community; this can be ordered via the same address.

At the time of this writing, Germanic Heathenism, while still tiny in comparison to Wicca, seems to be thriving and growing swiftly. The Troth and the AFA, based in California are the largest Heathen organizations by a factor of five or six, and the most active; there are also a number of independent kindreds and individuals who are working strongly to make the general public aware that the Teutonic ways exist, do not involve racism or fascism, and are worth learning about and following. It seems likely that Heathenism will continue to grow and become stronger for a long time to come - so long as there are folk willing to study, work, and speak up for the gods and goddesses of the North!






Chapter VIII

The God/esses of the Troth

The Elder Troth gives worship to a great many gods and goddesses. The ways
in which we do this, and the ways in which we see them, are very different
from the ways of the Abrahamic religions. To us, the god/esses are our
eldest kinfolk, to whom we give the greatest love and respect, but before
whom we do not kneel or bow. Our aim is to come to know them better and
better and to live together with them - to become one again with the clan
from which we have been long sundered. As we are descended, both in soul
and body, from them, their might also shows itself forth in us.

The god/esses themselves stem from two great kins: the Ases (Æsir) and the
Wans (Vanir). The differences between them have often been simplified by
attributing war and thought to the Ases, peace, nature, and fruitfulness to
the Wans. As a close look at the god/esses themselves will show, this is
not strictly true: Fro Ing and the Frowe both have strong battle-aspects,
for instance, while Thonar is, among other things, very much a nature-god,
and most of the god/esses have some ties to earthly fruitfulness. The
difference between the Ases and the Wans seems to be more one of character
and element: the Wans are firstly deities of earth and water, the Ases of
fire and air - though even here there is a great deal of overlap. The
best-known of the Ases are Wodan, Frija, Thonar, Sif, and Tiw; the only
Wans who we know by name are Njördhr, Nerthus, Fro Ing (Freyr) and the
Frowe (Freyja). At one time, the Ases and the Wans made war, but neither
side could overcome the other in battle. A truce was settled and hostages
exchanged: the etin Mímir and Wodan's brother Hoenir went to dwell among
the Wans, and Njördhr and Fro Ing came to live with the Ases, where,
according to Snorri Sturluson's Ynglinga saga, they held a special position
as priests, and the Frowe as a priestess.

Some folk of the Troth also set great store by Georges Dumézil's theory of
an Indo-European tripartite hierarchy reflected both in the god/esses and
the society of Germanic folk. According to this theory, there are three
"functions": Ruler (magician, priest, judge), Warrior, and Provider. Wodan
and Tiw are the gods of rulership as magician-king and judge-king
respectively; Thonar is the god of warriors, and the Wans are the deities
of peasant-farmers; Edred Thorsson explains that the hierarchy "must be
arranged in just this way: sovereignty must rule over force, and generation
must serve the interests of the whole again under the direction of
sovereignty. The king commands the warrior, and the farmer, or worker,
provides for all" (A Book of Troth, p. 72). It is undoubtedly true that the
three great things, consciousness, strength, and fruitfulness are needful
to everyone; and that the Northerners, like all folks who speak the
Indo-European languages (and many who don't), use threefold divisions for
the mightiest things of religion and magic. Many folk feel that this
tripartite structure is particularly good for designing rituals, as well,
especially since we know that Óðinn, Þórr, and Freyr were the three gods
most favoured in the Viking Age: a well-formed general rite (as opposed to
one for a specific deity or purpose) should probably at least name all
three (and the corresponding goddesses), and bring in the three functions
in some way.

However, among the Germanic folk, a ruler was expected to bring
fruitfulness to the land, every free person was supposed to be able to be a
warrior at need, and the sovereign gifts of magic and skaldcraft cropped up
as often among the ordinary folk (especially the free farmers of Iceland,
who were well known to be the best poets of the Viking Age) as among the
kin of kings. Nor, as we see by looking at the being of the god/esses
themselves, can any of them be limited to a single primary function. The
Wanic Fro Ing, for instance, is equal to Wodan as a god of kingship (first
function) and appears, together with his father Njörðr, most often of all
the gods in the priestly role (first function); while Thonar, though
himself a mighty warder who often does battle, was almost never called on
as a battle-god. As far as the practising of the Elder Troth is concerned,
we have many more references to Thonar as a god of hallowing (the priestly
first function) than as a patron of warriors. Wodan himself was the chief
battle-god (second function) of the Germanic peoples at least from the Iron
Age onward; and his original function, as discussed later, was probably
that of death-god - a role which, though enfolding aspects of all three
Dumézilian functions, has no clear place anywhere in the tripartite system.
Although Snorri Sturluson's Prose Edda places a great deal of emphasis on
Óðinn as the ruler of the pantheon, the sources we have describing Viking
Age religion show that the god who was seen as highest varied from place to
place and tribe to tribe, (as Freyr was particularly worshipped among the
Swedes, for example) while Þórr was most generally the chief god in the
Norse hofs. There is no evidence in any source older than Snorri, who was
writing two hundred years after the conversion of Iceland, that any one
Germanic deity was ever seen as having authority over any of the others. In
short, for the Dumézilian system to stand up within Germanic religion, one
must pass over all descriptions of the practise and history of the elder
troth in favour of the latest and most literary descriptions of it.

The tripartite system also ignores two important classes of folk: the
crafters, who are sometimes classed as "third function providers" but who,
especially as smiths, were thought to have magical powers; and the marginal
figures of the thrall and the outlaw. For those who like neat patterns, Dan
O'Halloran suggests an alternative five-fold system: First Function =
soverignty/authority; Second Function = lore and crafters; Third Function =
warrior; Fourth Function = farmer/provider; Fifth Function = thrall/outlaw.
O'Halloran cautions against associating any one god with any one function,
however, pointing out that each of the gods shows attributes of all levels
of society (Wodan even appears in the fifth function as an otherworldly
outlaw). In general, it is not the way of the Germanic folk to hierarchize
and separate, but rather to see the needful things of life (such as
rulership/magic/spirituality, strength, and fruitfulness) in a more
holistic way, as a single weave of might. Nevertheless, there are many who
have found the threefold model powerful for ritual and belief, so it cannot
be set aside too lightly, although careful consideration of the god/esses
(and of early Germanic society) would suggest that sticking too closely to
structuralist literalism may not be greatly helpful in understanding the
souls and thought of our forebears and the holy ones we worship; indeed,
inasmuch as a strict Dumézilian view requires ignoring large amounts of
data about our ancestors' beliefs and knowledge of the god/esses, it may
actually do injury to the effort to bring back the old ways.

In regards to the being of the god/esses themselves, there are also
different views within the Troth. A few choose to see them as Jungian
archetypes, or as ideal embodiments of various aspects of our souls. Most
folk of the Troth, however, know the god/esses as real and mighty beings,
as free-standing and individually aware as we are (or more so!) who work
their wills upon the Middle-Garth in different ways and whose might is with
us in all that we do. Likewise, most folk of the Troth are sure that the
god/esses came into being before we did. They are mightier than we are
(though not omnipotent), wiser than we are (though not omniscient), and
probably more complex of character than we are. Although they are greater
than we, however, there is no doubt that we are (or can be, if we are
honourable and strong) worthy of them, in much the same way as children can
be worthy of great parents and grandparents; indeed, there are many stories
from the old days which tell how gods (especially Wodan and Fro Ing)
fathered human dynasties, and the Jarls of Hlaðir, who warded Norway
against christianity for a long time, were said in Háleygjatal to be born
of Óðinn and Skaði. Thus the worship we give our god/esses is not a matter
of moaning about their highness and our lowness, but literally
"worth-ship": we honour them for what they are and have given us, and seek
to bring forth that in ourselves which mirrors them.

There is surely much knowledge about the god/esses that has been lost to
humans over time, and much more that is yet to be found. Their own beings
do not change, but different sides of what they are tend to come out at
different times. Tiw, for instance, was best known as the great Sky-Father
in earliest days, but in the Iron Age, he seems to have been called on most
as a god of battle, and in the Viking Age he was known as "ruler at the
Thing (judicial assembly)" (Old Icelandic Rune-Poem). They also take note
of changes in the world: lately, guns have been brought forth at rites for
the blessings of Tiw, and the computer on which this book was edited has
been hallowed to Wodan many times, with a little mead spilled to Loki to
keep his glitches out of it.

As to what the god/esses are and where they came from: the Eddic poems
Völuspá and Vafþrúðnismál, and Snorri's Prose Edda tell of the birth of
Óðinn and his brothers, and of the making of the worlds. We also know from
the Norse sources that some of the gods, such as Thonar and Balder, are
Wodan's children; while other deities, such as Skaði, Gerðr, and Loki, are
etins who were adopted into the ætt (clan) of the Ases by the rites of
marriage (the two goddesses) and blood-brotherhood (Loki). But there are
many of the god/esses about whose kin and roots the lore of our forebears
tells us little or nothing: for instance, there is no tale of the birth of
the Wanic kind; Snorri clearly says that nothing is known of Sif's kin; and
Frija's ætt is known only by the name of her father Fjörgynn. Those who
know these deities well, and think on them often, may find their own
answers in the course of time; but most folk are content to accept and love
them as they are.

On an earthly level, as the chapters on our folk's history suggest, it is
possible to trace some of the roots of our forebears' understanding of some
of the god/esses, and to see how we came to know them as we do. To some
degree, it is sure that the Troth is, and always has been a
nature-religion: Thonar's name simply means "Thunder", and his mother is
the living Earth; we hear Wodan's voice in the storm-wind and see Sif's
hair in the ripe fields, the brightness of Wulþur's (Ullr's) arrows in the
Northern Lights. This should not be taken as meaning that the god/esses are
mere personifications of natural forces, as was often suggested in the late
nineteenth and early twentieth centuries: rather, this world shows forth
their great soul-might in everything about its shaping, and should
therefore be treated with the worship and love that we give to our elder
kin. Other things have also played a part in the growth of our
understanding of our god/esses, however. The love and worship of our
ancestors has been one of the strongest elements in the religions of the
North from the Stone Age onward, and several of our deities (especially
Wodan, Fro Ing, and the Frowe) have very close ties to those of our
forebears who still watch and care for their living kin. As our ancestors
learned new skills and new lore, these also widened their awareness of the
god/esses and their works: for instance, Wodan was surely known long before
the spread of the runes to the North, and the first artistic models for the
Gotlandic picture-stones with their horse-and-rider motif also came from
other lands, but these things gave our forebears yet another a means to
show forth what they already knew of our god/esses. For this reason, the
question of anachronism is not a matter to be thought of in the workings of
the Troth. If we were a group dedicated to pure historical re-creation, you
would not be able to scratch an inscription in runes from the Elder Futhark
(ca. 0-700 C.E.) on a reproduction of a tenth-century Þórr's Hammer; but to
us, the god/esses are one from their eldest roots to this very day, so that
we may yet see Bronze Age lurhorns blown before a Troth hof built after the
model of those twelfth-century Norwegian stave-churches which were probably
based on heathen holy architecture.

The god/esses themselves appear in many shapes to us, which are not bound
by time as we see it. Unlike some Pagan religions, which have different
deities (or major deity-aspects) for different times of life, such as the
Maiden, Mother, and Crone of Wicca, we see our god/esses as coming forth
simply according to need and how they are called. Thus, all of them have
youthful aspects and old aspects. The same goddess can, like Skaði, be the
Warrior Maiden and the mother of a dynasty; the same god can, like Wodan,
be the brave young adventurer and World-maker and the wise and sorrowful
old father. Some folk find their favoured deities shifting with changes in
their own lives, as an unmarried maid might pass from Gefjon's patronage to
Frija's at marriage; others see their own changes and growth in newly found
sides of their beloved god/esses. It is not that the god/esses themselves
change: it is rather that their being is and has always been a single
wholeness, but humans find them easier to know by looking at their various
aspects and the ways in which they come forth in different situations.

Usually Troth folk give some worship to all the god/esses, though how
strongly and how often varies widely. It is not uncommon to find those
whose interest is divided by godly ætts, so that together with the usual
term "Ásatrú" (trust in the Ases), we often now see folk who call
themselves followers of the "Vanatrú" (trust in the Wans). Generally, it is
not good to seek out one godly kindred and never give the other a thought;
however, there are many who think that (so long as all the god/esses are
duly respected), one may be able to learn more by concentrating on the
kindred that is closest to one. And it is surely true that, just as in the
elder days, most folk find in time that there is a single god or goddess
who calls strongly to their own souls. The Old Norse word for this was
fulltrúi (manly) or fulltrúa (womanly) - the one in whom you put your full
trust/belief. In Eyrbyggja saga, Þórólfr Mosturskeggi is called a "great
friend of Þórr" (ch. 3), and the god himself is called Þórólfr's ástvínr,
'beloved friend' (ch. 4): this, together with the understanding of the
god/esses as our elder kin, shows more clearly than anything the Germanic
view of the holy folk. From what the sagas show us of the relationship of
the "beloved friends" to humans, we can see why each of the god/esses must
be able in all ways: you may call upon other deities for blessing in many
things, but for the chief things of life - whether they be fruitfulness and
riches, wisdom, strength, love, or success in struggles - it is the
god/dess who has chosen you who is likeliest to give at your need. Each of
them does this in their own way, which not only matches the god/ess' being,
but is best fitted to the soul of the chosen one. For instance, Thonar
might help in a battle by strengthening your arm, Wodan by casting terror
and war-fetter on your foe, Frija by warding you against all blows, and Fro
Ing or the Frowe by giving you the fierce might of the battle-boar.

The basic relationship between god/esses and humans is one of gifts given
by each to the other. They give us our lives, our awareness, and all that
we need from the growing grain that feeds us to the highest wisdom of the
soul; we give them love, worship, and the might of the blessings we make at
the holy feasts of the year and whenever we speak their names or drink
toasts to them. Grønbech says that "The worshipper went to his grove and to
his god in search of strength, and he would not have to go in vain; but it
was no use his constantly presenting himself as receptive, and quietly
waiting to be filled with all good gifts. It was his business to make the
gods human, in the old, profound sense of the word, where the emphasis lies
on an identification and consequent conjunction of mind with soul". As we
learn from the god/esses, they also learn from us; as they fill us with
life and awareness, so do we give the same back to them. More: "(When
someone) bloted - he made the gods great and strong...The gods who were
much bloted were - according to Christian authors - worse to deal with than
ordinary supernatural beings" (II, p. 209). The gift was always a deed of
sharing, whether it happened in human life (as with the gifts of wedding or
those given by drighten to thane) or between humans and god/esses. Grønbech
comments that "The gift implies mingling of mind and life, communion and
inspiration, and this reality is heightened in the relation to the gods. To
own - eiga - implies vital connection between the owner and the thing, and
the verb eigna means to transfer body and soul, as we might say, to make
the conveyance real; thus gefa and eigna in a religious sense is identical
with blóta" (III, p. 72). At the blessings of the Troth, both god/esses and
humans are blessed!

A clear, straightforward expression of the way many (perhaps most) true
folk see the god/esses of the North is put forth by Gamlinginn in his
statement of troth, "Hér Stend Ek".

Here stand I - alone if necessary - for the things that I believe.

(1) I believe that the Æsir and the Vanir are living Deities who came out
of Ginnungagap before the beginning of time, and have ruled the Nine Worlds
since then, and will rule them until Ragnarök - whether or not humans
believe in them.

(2) I believe that the Æsir and the Vanir are inherently good, and that
they always support good and oppose evil, and that they always want all
humans to do what is right.

(3) I believe that the Æsir and the Vanir foster and value the
individuality of each person, and that each person should be proud of what
he or she inherently is - and that people should never look down on others,
or themselves, for what they inherently are.

(4) I believe that Faith in the Æsir and the Vanir constitutes the Religion
of Ásatrú, which is separate from and not connected to any other religious
faith (although it may be superficially similar in some respects), and that
Ásatrú is my religion and my only religion.

(5) I believe that, as an adherent of Ásatrú, I have a personal
relationship with each and all of the Æsir and the Vanir, individually and
collectively - that Frigg and Óðinn inspire me, that Týr and Zisa guide me,
that Sif and Þórr protect me, and that Freyja and Freyr provide for me -
and that all of the Gods and Goddesses are my friends.

(6) I believe that every human on earth can and may have a similar personal
relationship with all of the Æsir and the Vanir, individually and
collectively, and has as much right as I do to be an adherent of Ásatrú, if
he or she so chooses, and that Ásatrú is freely open to anyone who wants to
accept it - regardless of gender, race, colour, ethnicity, national origin,
language, sexual orientation, or other divisive criteria - and that no
individual or group of individuals has the right to deny Ásatrú to anyone,
or to try to force it onto anyone.

(7) I believe that religious beliefs should always be of free choice, and
that each person who chooses to adhere to Ásatrú should interpret it
according to his or her own ideas, and that no individual or group of
individuals ever has the right to try to make a person adhere to any
religious ideas or beliefs against that person's will, or to try to harm
those who do not agree with them, for any reason.

(8) I believe that the Ásatrú Religion, guided by the great Gods of Ásgarð,
provides the best Way of Life for all who choose to follow it, and that the
Ásatrú Way of Life esteems: courage, honour, hospitality, independence (and
liberty), individuality (with self-reliance and self-responsibility),
industriousness (and perseverance), justice (including an innate sense of
fairness and respect for others), loyalty (to family, friends, and the
society of which one is a part), truthfulness, and a willingness to stand
up for and do what is right.

(9) I believe that when I die my Spirit will live on in Ásgarð, if I have
earned it, in the company of all of the Æsir and the Vanir - so help me Týr
and Zisa.



Chapter IX

Tiw and Zisa (Týr, *Tiwaz, Tius; Tisa, *Týa, *Tiwon)

Although the tales of our folk speak little of Tiw, his name and what few
things we do know of him hint that he held a great place in early times.
Now, many are finding themselves touched by this god (and even his
less-known womanly counterpart, Zisa), and seek to bring his ur-old worship
back to life again and call his might forth to brighten the Middle-Garth.
Among these folk stands Bill Bainbridge, who tells of his chosen god (and
goddess) in this work, "Týr and Zisa".

The Eddic Týr may seem to some, at first blush, a relatively simple and
straightforward deity; Zisa, on the other hand, appears not at all. A
deeper investigation into Týr's nature and character, though, shows a
complexity arising, not only out of the vastly different sources of
knowledge of him, but also out of the seeming differences, even
incompatibilities, in the pictures one derives from the various references.
What, among all the different personalities that could emerge, is the
central reality that is Týr? Is Týr the transcendent Sky Father, the cold
and rational orderer, co-ruler with Óðinn, the stern but fair judge, the
patron of Þing and hólmganga, or the brave and stoic warrior who sacrifices
himself for the well-being of the folk. Each person who attempts to come to
grips with Týr must answer this question for him- or herself, and yet one
suspects that the core truths of this god and his even more obscure consort
(or womanly aspect? - KHG) must remain something of a mystery - in the best
and most sacred sense of the word - even to those who most honour them, as
befits two of the most ancient of our deities. In seeking mysteries,
however, we take them into ourselves and become one with them. It may then
be that the characters of Týr and Zisa will reveal themselves more fully
through the words and deeds of us who find in this pair a holy path
imbedded in our own souls, and an essential aspect of the wholeness that is
the Northern faith.

The earliest appearance of the god we know as Týr appears to have been as
the great sky god of the Indo-Europeans. This we surmise from the apparent
derivation of the names for many of the sky gods in Indo-European peoples -
examples include Dyaus in the Rig Veda, Zeus for the Greeks, Jupiter or
Jove among the Romans, Sius in the ancient Hittite pantheon, and perhaps
Zîu, Zîo, Tîuz, or Tîwaz in the original language of the Teutons - from a
single source, and the similarity in function displayed by these deities.
His name originally may have meant "shining", or simply "light". For the
Germanic peoples, as with others, the name was also a generic word for
"god", a circumstance that continued even into Eddic times. From this, and
from the position of this god in other Indo-European cultures, we believe
that the Sky Father was also the chief of the gods, and probably honoured
together with the Earth Mother. He appears to have been ancient, and thus,
imperfectly understood, when the Indian Vedas were composed; Indra, the
"king of the gods", was considered in some sense his offspring, and Varuna,
as the "creator and sustainer of the world", is considered to have
inherited those functions from Dyaus. According to early Vedic thought,

The Sky is the Father and, with the Earth, the origin of

everything. All the gods, Sun, Moon, Wind, Rain, Lightning,

Dawn, and the rest, are children of the Sky. Dyaus covers

the Earth and fertilizes her with his seed, that is, with rain.

One consequence of Týr's origin is that, unlike Óðinn and despite his
appearance at times as a cold and implacable god of struggle, Týr has not
been viewed as embodying both light and darkness within his nature, but has
remained for those who follow his path preeminently a god of light.

As might be expected, the Tiwaz of Heathen theology had undergone great
changes between the time the Indo-Europeans began to split into separate
peoples and the late Heathen period in Northern Europe, which furnishes us
with most of our data on ancient Germanic religion. Nevertheless, a few
circumstances indicate that at least some element of Týr's identity as the
overarching god of the heavens persisted down to that time. First, there is
the phenomenon of the sacred column of the Saxons, Irminsul. It is thought
that the name of this column is related to the name Hermiones, which,
according to Tacitus, was one of the earliest tribal names among the
Germans. The Irminsul is said to have represented the "column of the
universe upholding all things". While it is difficult to say when the
tradition of the Irminsul began, it is a fascinating coincidence that,
between approximately 170 and 240 C.E., there appeared in Northern Gaul
several "Jupiter columns", on which Jupiter was sometimes represented
mounted and holding a thunderbolt, and around which the images of the four
seasons, the days of the week, or various other deities appeared.
Certainly, it strikes one as at least somewhat plausible that the depiction
in Northern Gaul of the Roman sky god on a column may have influenced the
later use among a Germanic tribe of the column to honour the ancient
Germanic sky god (showing, by the way, that at least some Germans
understood who their sky god was, even if the Romans insisted on equating
him erroneously with Mars). Another indication that for some, Týr retained
at least the spiritual authority of the ancient Sky Father is the
description of him, in the Old Icelandic Rune Poem, as "the ruler of the
temple".

A second connection between the Germanic Týr and his ancient function as
sky god is his identification with the pole star, Polaris. This is clearly
stated in the "Anglo-Saxon Rune Poem":

(Tir) is a star, it keeps faith well

with athelings, always on its course,

over the mists of night it never fails.

Combining the idea of a "world column" with the pole star, one arrives not
only at a principle linking heaven with earth, but also an ordering
principle around which the heavens and the earth are organized and revolve.
Whether the old Saxons and their English descendants actually made this
connection or thought of Týr in such terms remains, unfortunately, a matter
of conjecture.

Finally, it appears that in the most ancient times, Týr was honoured
primarily on mountains and in forests. If Týr were, as many have assumed,
primarily a war god and a god of the political and juridical structures,
one would not expect to find his holy places in natural and somewhat
inaccessible settings, but rather, mainly in towns or near places of
military significance. That an ancient Teuton would have to climb a
mountain - that is, to place him- or herself between earth and sky - to
honour Týr completely indicates that Týr, like so many of the Heathen gods
and goddesses, retained a vital connection for the old Germanics with the
natural force in which he was first perceived, and never became entirely
"socialized".

In his extensive account of German society, the most comprehensive such
survey of Roman times, Cornelius Tacitus made prominent mention of three
deities, to whom he ascribed the Roman names Mercury, Hercules, and Mars.
It is generally assumed that these names correspond to Óðinn, Þórr, and
Týr, and later Roman usage in Britain decisively confirms the
identification of Týr with "Mars". This tendency to regard Týr as a god of
war has continued, for some, down to the present day, and there is ample
ground for it. It seems to have been common to engrave a "Týr rune" on
implements of war, presumably so that they would not fail their wielder in
battle. This custom was expressly sanctioned in the Sigrdrífumál of the
Poetic Edda:

Learn victory runes if thou victory wantest,

and have them on thy sword's hilt -

on thy sword's hilt some, on thy sword's guard some,

and call twice upon Týr.

In the Prose Edda, Óðinn, in the guise of Hár, "The High One", describes
Týr in terms quite consistent with his apparent function as bringer of
victory in war:

There is a god called Týr. He is the boldest and most

courageous, and has power over victory in battle; it

is good for brave men to invoke him. It is a proverbial

saying that he who surpasses others and does not waver

is "Týr-valiant". He is also so well-informed that a very

knowledgeable man is said to be "Týr-wise".

The Saxons' progenitor deity, again decisively identified with Tiwaz, is
thought to have been one Saxnot, or later in England, Seaxneat, the divine
ancestor of the royal house of Essex. The name means something like "Sword
Companion".

In modern times, this tradition regarding Týr was carried on in the ritual
manual of the Ásatrú Free Assembly:

Tyr, in his many guises, is the original Indo-European sky

god. Long before the Viking Age, though, he had been

demoted to a lesser, but still important status. Tyr is a war god,

and his virtues are those of bravery, sacrifice, and devotion to

justice.

*****

Tyr, then, is a model for those who follow the path of the duty-

bound warrior, responsible for the welfare of others.

The "demotion" spoken of is nowhere so clear as in the "Hymiskviða" of the
Poetic Edda, where Týr serves as little more than a straight man for Þórr.

There are, however, difficulties in regarding Týr's perceived function of
"war god" as an essential element in his character. First and most
obviously, Týr was originally a chief deity, in an age and land wherein a
people not adept at warfare had little chance of long-term survival. Under
such circumstances, any deity would by necessity have become a "war god",
since victory in war was one of the crucial items the deity would be
expected to deliver. For example, there can be little doubt that Freyr also
sometimes functioned as a "war god", for all that he is also a god of peace
and plenty (see "Fro Ing"). Another problem is that none of our sources for
Týric mythos show the supposed war god actually making or participating in
war. Certainly, Óðinn, and Óðinnic human protagonists, are depicted in such
activities, and indeed, one of the reasons Óðinn is believed to have
supplanted Týr as chief god is his ability, as "chooser of the slain",
better to produce victory by producing more slain among the opposing side.
But the extant sources fail to show either Týr or Týric military heroes in
battle. And in the one Eddic tale to show Týr in any detail, he is shown as
binding violence, not unleashing it.

A third consideration is that in other Indo-European cultures, the true
counterpart of Týr is not especially associated with war. In the Indian
pantheon, neither Dyaus, nor Mitra (after Dumézil), nor Varuna (as
inheritor of the role of Sky Father) were viewed as specifically war gods.
Zeus and Jupiter, though rulers and thus capable of overcoming their foes,
were accompanied in their pantheons by deities for whom war was a
specialty, Ares or Apollo or Mars, respectively. Only if one identifies
Dyaus with Mitra, and then follows him to Persia where he becomes Mithra,
does one approach a war god, and by the time of that transformation, the
Teutonic branch of the Indo-Europeans would long have parted company with
the Indo-Iranian branch. Assuming, as from the standpoint of Ásatrú we
probably ought to, that a god is more than a social function, and retains
his essential character regardless of what people at any given time may
happen to think about him, it is difficult to support with comparative
material anything more than the view that Týr probably functioned more or
less as a "war god" for a period because the Northern peoples needed him
to.

Finally, war is not terribly compatible with the other roles Týr has
performed in society. As Sky Father, Týr's function is quintessentially
creative, not destructive; as noted above, he tends to be viewed as a god
of light, and certainly cannot supportably be regarded as a "death-god", as
can Óðinn. In making fertile the Earth through his seed, in the form of
rain, Tiwaz is generally considered to be taking part in a marriage, not a
rape. And as Þing god, Týr's function was to manage conflict and direct it
into channels that are not destructive of the community, not to stir up
conflict for its own sake, again, as Óðinn has been known to do. Thus,
although Týr can certainly be, as McNallen wrote, the true patron of the
self-sacrificing warrior fighting for the common good, he is not
fundamentally a god of slaughter, nor does he call especially to those
whose path involves physical violence. One must look, then, far past the
battlefield to glimpse his true nature.

Týr is also referred to as the Northern god of justice. This term can be
enormously misleading. "Justice" comes from a Latin source, and expresses a
fundamentally Mediterranean concept. The word seems to imply that there is
a set of abstract, universal principles against which empirical phenomena
can be rationally measured to arrive at a "just" result, and also implies
the existence of a judge - an impartial, disinterested, and all-powerful
party who adjudicates disputes based upon the previously mentioned abstract
principles of justice. A third component of a system of "justice" has in
practice been a set of comprehensible, codified laws promulgated by an
absolute, but definitely human, "authority". The old Teutonic system of
punishing wrongdoing and resolving conflict, by contrast, was local rather
than universal, based itself on precedent, rather than a rationalistic
derivation of a result from abstract principles, often utilized an assembly
acting as jury rather than a judge, and relied on principles of conduct
that were viewed as having divine origin and as being the property of the
local folk, rather than on the edicts and decrees of political authorities.
Thus, the lore gives us no indication that Týr was a judge, or that he
decreed laws for the people to follow. Forseti, as an arbitrator, came
closest to a judge, and Heimdallr was the one who ordered society and put
people in their proper places (as described in the Eddic poem Rígsþula).
Týr simply established a framework for managing the struggles and conflicts
inherent in any community such that the community, rather than being torn
apart, emerged stronger. To call Týr, therefore, a god of right, after the
German Recht, would come nearer to the truth, although perhaps the most
accurate term would be Þing god, after the institution with which Týr was
most closely identified in later Heathen times.

The Romans clearly knew of the connection between the Teutonic "war god"
and the judicial function in society; Tacitus reported that:

Capital punishment, imprisonment, even flogging, are allowed to

none but the priests, and are not inflicted merely as punishments or

on the commanders' orders, but as it were in obedience to the god

whom the Germans believe to be present on the field of battle.

Since Tacitus later mentions that capital cases are tried in the assembly,
the link between Týr and the Þing is inescapable. This connection was also
recognized by the Frisians in Britain who crafted two Latin inscriptions
found at Hadrian's Wall referring to "Mars Thingsus". While this is not the
place to examine in detail the remarkable institution of the Þing, it would
probably be fair to describe it, at its most sedate, as a jury trial with
audience participation, and at its most raucous, as the pursuit of open
warfare by other means. In its judicial aspect, it, and Týr, are also
associated with trial-by-combat, or the hólmganga. Particularly in the
Icelandic sources, the picture clearly emerges of a forum guided to a large
extent by what were regarded as the ancient laws of the locality (as
enunciated by the Þingspeaker or Lawspeaker?), but in which the support of
powerful factions for one side or another unquestionably affected the
outcome, and the lone, unpopular litigant stood a drastically reduced
likelihood of success.

Two cultural phenomena in Britain hint strongly at the persistence of the
connection between Týr and the political and judicial systems. The first is
a symbol known as the "broad arrow", appearing as a rather truncated Týr
rune, that was used to signify the legal profession, government property,
and the military. The second is the mediæval fair, discussed at some length
by Nigel Pennick in his work, Games of the Gods (pp. 129-60). Pennick links
these fairs to locations identified through their names either with the
Þing or with Týr, and discusses how their layout, according to a "sacred
grid", implies a connection with a metaphysical/religious concept of divine
and cosmic ordering of the universe. The fairs also featured a pole in the
center (Irminsul?) on which was hoisted a glove (Týr's severed hand?).
Overshadowing these in importance, however, are the institutions of the
adversarial and jury-based (as opposed to the investigative and
judge-based) system of justice, and Anglo-Saxon common law. These are
virtually unique in the world today to English-speaking countries, and can
only have their roots in the Heathen concept of law, and in the Þing.

Týr's connection with the Þing has led Georges Dumézil, by a somewhat
torturous path, to conclude that Óðinn and Týr represent two aspects of the
social function of sovereignty, the "first function" in his tripartite
socio-theology. In Dumézil's view, Týr represents the rational, social, and
"light" aspect, and Óðinn represents the magical, inspired, and "dark"
aspect. The author is decidedly not a Dumézilian, and hence will leave a
comprehensive discussion of Dumézil's theories to someone more sympathetic
to them. An important, and apparently sound, basis for them is de Vries'
opinion that the "war god" aspect of Týr is not fundamental, and arises
largely from the almost warlike character of the Teutonic judicial system
(and indeed, on the tendency of the Teutons to regard war, as well as lots,
as a sort of judgement by the gods and hence, judicial in nature). More
troubling is Dumézil's view that Germanic law, as represented by the Þing,
expresses a corrupted and "pessimistic" view of law:

At the very least theology describes a divine Order where all is

not perfect, either, but where a Mitra or a Fides keep watch as

guarantors and shine as models of true law. Even if polytheistic

gods cannot be impeccable, they should at least, to fulfill their

role, have one of them speak for and respond to man's conscience,

early awakened, surely already well awakened and mature,

among the Indo-Europeans. But Tyr can do that no longer. The

Germanic peoples and their ancestors were no worse than those

Indo-European peoples who fell upon the Mediterranean, Iran,

or the Indus. But their theology of sovereignty, and especially their

god of Law, by conforming to the human example, was cut off

from the role of protestation against custom which is one of the

great services rendered by religion. This lowering of the sovereign

"ceiling" condemned the world - the entire world of gods and men,

to being no more than what they are, since mediocrity there no

longer results from accidental imperfections, but from essential

limits.

One with a more sympathetic view of Germanic religion would note that the
function of a native or folk religion is generally to support and
strengthen the folk, not imbue it with guilt for not living up to
artificial standards of behavior. One might also find it peculiar that
Dumézil should consider those gods admirable who encourage wishful
thinking, and mediocre who teach self-sacrifice for the common good. Still,
if Týr and we are condemned to being no more than we are, that is
nonetheless preferable to being what we are not.

Another weakness of the theory is that important aspects of Northern
theology must be distorted in order to make it fit. To conclude that Týr
has abandoned his "proper" function, Dumézil suggests as a "possibility"
that Týr, despite the obvious derivation of his name, really has no
connection with the ancient sky god, uses that lever to speculate that Týr
"might have" coexisted with Óðinn, and then assumes not only that they must
have coexisted, but that they must have been counterparts representing two
aspects of the "sovereign function", since such a nice model of this
division of labour exists in Vedic lore surrounding Mitra and Varuna, and
since some very rough correspondences seem to exist in Celtic religion and
in some relatively minor figures in Roman myth and pseudo-history. However,
the Irminsul speaks of Týr's continuing link with the sky and the universe
beyond it, and the whole of Teutonic mythology fails to show an instance of
Týr in cooperation or interdependence with Óðinn, or any indication of a
clear, recognised division of labour between them.

Dumézil does derive important support from Saxo Grammaticus' story of
Óðinn's temporary replacement:

Thus, Odin, wounded by the double trespass of his wife...took to

an exile overflowing with noble shame, imagining so to wipe off

the slur of his ignominy.

When he had retired, one Mit-othin, who was famous for his

juggling tricks, was likewise quickened, as though by inspiration

from on high, to seize the opportunity of feigning to be a god; and,

wrapping the minds of the barbarians in fresh darkness, he led

them by the renown of his jugglings to pay holy observance to

his name. He said that the wrath of the gods could never be

appeased nor the outrage to their deity expiated by mixed

and indiscriminate sacrifices, and therefore forbade that prayers

for this end should be put up without distinction, appointing to

each of those above his especial drink-offering. But when

Odin was returning, he cast away all help of jugglings, went

to Finland to hide himself, and was there attacked and slain

by the inhabitants.

Presumably, upon his return, Óðinn reinstated collective sacrifice. Dumézil
proclaims this "undoubtedly an ancient myth", and identifies Mit-othyn, or
Mithothyn, with Týr on the strength of the name's similarity with the word
mjötuðinn, meaning "the judge-leader". Then, relying on Julius Caesar's
description of Germanic society as communal, and in a rather jarring
intrusion of modern economic theory into ancient society, Dumézil
associates Óðinn with totalitarian communism, and Týr with classical
liberalism and private property. Saxo's source may indeed have been an
ancient myth, and could conceivably have had to do with Óðinn's replacement
of Týr as chief of the gods. Caesar, however, is notoriously unreliable,
having described the whole of Germanic religion as worship of tangible
things such as the sun, the moon, and fire, while Tacitus, a mere century
and a half later, found any number of deities being honoured, some in ways
that continued in use up to the christian suppression. From Tacitus on,
Teutonic society does not appear particularly communistic, nor Óðinn
especially hostile towards private property or, for that matter, individual
freedom.

Theories such as Dumézil's, of course, are advanced with the idea that
certain predispositions and patterns recur in a grouping of people, in this
case Indo-Europeans, and these shape people's religious perceptions and
thus, their mythology. From the standpoint of psychology, comparative
religion, or, for that matter, political economy, this approach can provide
useful insights. From the standpoint of theology, however, and assuming
that one accepts the possibility that a god actually exists and has a
definable character apart from his social function, one cannot respect the
integrity of the available sources regarding Týr as a Germanic deity and
conclude that he is simply a rational and social counterpart to the
divinely-mad and other-worldly Óðinn. Neither Týr nor Óðinn can be
comprehensively defined in terms of one another and the roles they play in
human society, or even human psychology; given the cosmic scope of both
their natures, we would be presumptuous in believing we can comprehensively
define them at all. As believers in the folk-religion we are studying, we
seek after mysteries that expand the scope of our gods and our
understanding of them, not reductionist theories that reduce them to
manageable and socially productive "functions".

The single tale in the lore unquestionably about Týr, and expressing his
nature so clearly that it could not be transferred to Óðinn after the
latter ascended to the throne of Ásgarðr, describes the binding of Fenrir,
the wolf son of Loki and the giantess Angrboða. Because the auguries told
the gods to expect great harm from Fenrir and his siblings, the gods
"brought the wolf up at home, and only Týr had the courage to go up to it
and give it food". As the wolf grew great and strong, the Æsir sought to
find a fetter strong enough to bind him. After three failed attempts, they
obtained from Svartálfheimr a magical fetter, and went with the wolf to an
island in a lake. When they suggested, however, that Fenrir allow himself
to be bound, he balked, even though the gods promised to set him free if he
could not break the bonds:

The wolf said: "If you bind me so that I can't get free, then you will

sneak away so that it will be a long time before I get any help from

you. I don't want to have that ribbon put on me. But rather than be

accused of cowardice by you, let one of you place his hand in my

mouth as a pledge that this is done in good faith." Each of the gods

looked at the other then and thought that they were in a fix, and

not one of them would stretch forth his hand, until Týr put out his

right hand and laid it in the wolf's mouth. Now when the wolf

began to struggle against it, the band tightened, and the more

fiercely he struggled the firmer it got. They all laughed except

Týr: he lost his hand.

From this tale, Týr is known above all as the god of self-sacrifice for the
common good. The story's other implications, though, are not so easily
discerned. The spectacle of the Þing god, often called the "god of
justice", swearing a false oath has troubled many. Even disregarding that
the word "oath" was not mentioned, however, one must remember that all the
gods made the promise, and Týr alone redeemed his honour by paying the
pledge-price. Beyond this legalism is also the fact that all knew that
Fenrir must be bound if the earthly and cosmic order of things was to be
maintained, but only Týr was capable of putting the universal need above
his personal welfare; and who better to perceive the greater need and the
relative unimportance of his own appendage than the god of earthly and
cosmic order, Tiwaz, Sky Father?

But the real mystery embodied in this story lies only partially in Týr's
act, which is readily comprehensible in human terms. Týr's relationship
with the wolf adds a far deeper and more complex aspect to the myth.
Whether Fenrir represents cosmic chaos and destruction, as some theorize,
or violence and greed, which Týr also in some sense bound in the Þing, the
striking element of the story is that Týr seemed actually to have been
friends with the wolf. Whatever it was about Fenrir that so terrified the
other gods seems almost to have struck a chord in Týr. A mere god of law
and order would not have reacted in that way. Only a god fully cognizant of
the necessary part that chaos and destruction play in the cosmos, and in
his own nature, would have fed that chaos and destruction, knowing that it
must bring the end of all the god himself works to preserve. Although Týr
plays a decisive part - the decisive part - in binding the destructive
forces that threaten the worlds, he nonetheless does so from a viewpoint
that acknowledges and respects those forces, and that identifies with the
totality of being and of Wyrd, rather than his own role in Wyrd's working
out. Týr is thus the warrior, the constant star impassively recording the
warrior's deed, and the universal axis of being and destiny that joins the
two and gives them meaning, Irminsul. In Týr's defining act, the warrior,
the master of struggle presiding over the great Þing of life, and the
universal, boundless, and transcendent sky become one, and we see more
clearly than in a thousand etymologies the essentail unity among the
multitude of faces Tiwaz has chosen to show the Indo-European peoples over
the millennia.

The discerning reader will have noted by this time that practically nothing
has been said about Zisa. This is because, however sparse our sources of
knowledge are about Týr, they are infinitely sparser as to Zisa. Discussing
Teutonic religion, Tacitus tells us:

Some of the Suebi sacrifice also to Isis. I do not know the origin or

explanation of this foreign cult; but the goddess' emblem, being

made in the form of a light warship, itself proves that her worship

came in from abroad.

Jacob Grimm, our principal source for information on Zisa, makes the
eminently plausible connection between Isa and Zisa, or Cisa, and links
both with mediæval Latin references from around the 11th century to the
patroness of Augsburg, Germany, once a home of the Suebi, who also honoured
Tiwaz. September 28th seems to have been the Feast of Cisa, in fortuitous
juxtiposition with Michaelmas the following day; the archangel Michael's
character does appear to manifest some similarities with that of Tiwaz.
Cisa seems to have borne at least some relationship with the harvest.

Such is the nature of our hard knowledge; what we do with it is largely up
to us. Some have seen Zisa as a female counterpart to Týr, out of
theological necessity, and because Loki taunts Týr with cuckoldry in the
"Lokasenna". Some support is given to this view by the discovery of the
Raum-Trollhättan bracteate. This bracteate has often been seen as Týr
because it shows a figure with one hand in the mouth of a beast. However,
the hairstyle and the skirt are characteristically female, as are the
clearly defined nipples or breasts: knowing of the existence of a goddess
whose name is the womanly form of Týr, it is hard to interpret this piece
as showing anything else. On the other hand, the picture emerging from both
Tacitus and Grimm is not that of a Mrs. Warrior, a Lady Justice, or even a
Queen of the Sky. Far from representing evidence of foreign origin, the
ship is extremely ancient in Northern religion, and carries connotations
both of early goddess worship and of death and the journey to the other
world (see "Bronze Age", "Njörðr and Nerthus", and "Soul, Death, and
Rebirth"). One might even be forgiven for noticing as perhaps more than a
coincidence that the goddess Nerthus, although described by Tacitus as
Mother Earth, has her holy place on an island in the sea, on which was
found a secluded lake. Nerthus, much in the manner of Freyr in a later age,
was carried about the precinct in a chariot pulled by cows, and during her
procession, weapons were put up and the peace was kept as sacred. If one
tends, as some do, to see in the original Sky Father Týr's most essential
nature, one would also tend to seek in Zisa echoes of his earliest and only
known consort, the Earth Mother, a figure in fact quite like Nerthus; and
if Tiwaz incorporates within himself the blinding light of creation, then
his consort would have included within herself the darker mysteries of
death and the transformation within, represented since earliest times by a
ship. But such thoughts at present are no more than speculation, and time
must determine whether a truth is contained within them that will emerge in
the minds and workings of those on a Týric path.

In modern times, Týr has attracted his share of folks who accord him
especial honour. For the most part, these Týrians share many common traits
derived from their patron, such as a certain reserve, a tendency to place
more emphasis on thought and reason than on emotion and ecstatic
experience, a deep concern for fairness to others and for insuring that the
consequences of their own acts promote the common good, and most
fundamental, an uncommon capacity for seeing past their personal viewpoints
and interests, and acting on behalf of the community, the faith, and Wyrd
itself, to bring into being what the Norns have woven for us in the most
beneficial manner possible.

As Týr has many aspects, however, so those attracted to him often differ
substantially in their view of Týr, and in the way they express their
acceptance of him as a paradigm for their own lives. As the old A.F.A.
ritual book shows, there are some who place the image of self-sacrificing
warrior at the center of their concept of Týr, regarding his other facets
as secondary or too far in the past to matter. While the path of a Týric
warrior doubtless has much in common with other "warrior paths", such as
discipline, self-testing, and, most often, training in some form of martial
arts, a Týric warrior tradition would offer a stark contrast to, say, an
Óðinnic one. Few Týrians emphasize magical practice much, nor would they
find the berserker rage much to their taste. Other differences would exist
with practices inspired by Þórr or Heimdallr, both of whom have served as
models for warrior paths. A Týric warrior, for example, may incline more
than most to enquire carefully into the philosophical and moral
underpinnings of a cause, and the motives of its advocates, before
committing to defend it.

Several Týrians see the god's path as one of service to the community and
to justice. One such person summarizes this approach succinctly:

In basic terms, Týrian spirituality involves always trying to do what is

right, what is fair, what is just, and what is honest, with special stress

on service to, and protection of, the community, both the Ásatrú

community and the general community in which one lives.

While it is difficult to find fault with this description, and most Týrians
seem to adhere to it as best they can regardless of their personal
ideologies, the discussion above of Týr as Þing god provides a somewhat
different model, and one perhaps closer to the concepts of the old Heathen
Teutons. As the Þing, and the ancient law that informed it, sought to
harness the conflict and hostility in ways that strengthened and unified
the community, accorded a certain dignity and respect to both winners and
losers, celebrated the folk's traditions and heritage, and permitted the
folk to arrive at a result that it felt and considered fundamentally right,
so a modern Týrian might step into the fray, not to mediate and bring
peace, but to sharpen, define, and elevate a conflict, to make it possible
for both sides to retain their own dignity and honour while recognizing
those of their opponents, and to strengthen the contestants and the
community by encouraging better solutions and a deeper sense of
responsibility. Such a Týrian would not be "called a peace-maker", but
might nonetheless bring the community greater benefits than what many think
of as peace. Binding the wolf, after all, was not intended to make him
tame.

But yet another path calls to those who seek Týr, not on the battlefield or
in the assemblies and courts, but in the crystal clarity of dawn in the
high mountains, between Earth and Sky. This path has long seemed lost in
the mists of ancient history and pre-history, and it yet glimmered only
faintly when the Vedas were composed. It is somewhat like the path whose
perceived absence in Northern religion Dumézil so lamented, but it is not
the same. It is not, as Dumézil thought it should be, a path that opposes
or judges the folk for not living up to an intellectual's ideals. Rather,
it is a way that does justice to the complexity of the multiverse, which
far surpasses the capacity of our theological vocabulary, and yet it
remains firmly rooted in the land, and in the community. This way is akin
to Irminsul. At its top is the blinding light and pure being of sky and
sun. Its base is enveloped and supported by earth, mother of all. And from
its axis radiates the sense of natural order, relation, and meaningfulness
that allows one, whether in the stillness of contemplation, the flash of
intuition, or the immediacy of action, to grasp and become one with the
dynamic and sometimes chaotic flow of life that surrounds one, and to find
the place in that flow from which one may realize one's highest ørlög. This
way of Tiwaz does not sacrifice the self to the Self, as Óðinn taught;
having seen the transitory nature of any self, it seeks rather to express
the ever-transforming Truth of being and becoming, life and spirit. But
part of that expression is to nourish the chaos and destruction at the core
of transformation, and part of it is to pledge one's strength, honour, and
life to nourish the Truth and spirit at the core of the folk. And another
part is to seek once again the loving and peaceful embrace of Zisa, as
storm-driven rain seeks the fertile field.

A pantheon is often thought of as a sort of bureaucracy, in which each
member has his or her desk, or "function", where specific requests can be
addressed if one only has an adequate directory. I do not believe this to
be accurate, because I do not believe that gods and goddesses are
functions. Certainly, it does appear that if those scholars who have
studied the Indo-European and other religions have taught us anything, it
is that the deities people honour are not always who and what the people
imagine them to be; that is, the pronouncements of folk religion are not
always to be taken literally at face value. On the other hand, the
theologian is not accorded the scholar's luxury of assuming that nothing
happens in religion other than what takes place in people's heads. Thus, a
people may ascribe characteristics or functions to a deity that are not
inherent to the deity, and that the deity later discards at the earliest
opportunity. Further, although the Teutonic peoples are unquestionably
Indo-Europeans, not all of their deities can be derived from and
comprehended within an Indo-European context; some have uniquely Teutonic
characteristics, which is to say that some have helped shape the Northern
peoples in ways one does not find elsewhere. Consequently, some of the
native Indo-European gods who found themselves in this new, Teutonic
pantheon expressed their characters in new and different ways. One assumes
that this was intentional. And of course, the origin of peoples does not
necessarily tell us anything of the origin of gods.

With this as a preface, I would suggest that, over the centuries and
millennia, as the Northern peoples emerged, various beings whom we think of
as deities found in those peoples a fitting medium for their creative
activities, and the Teutons responded by inviting those gods and goddesses
into their hearts and minds. Many of these gods were more ancient than the
Germanic peoples, and some, including Týr, were honoured by many other
peoples as well. But all in some way committed themselves to us. For Týr,
the moment of commitment came when Ásgarðr and Miðgarðr hung in the
balance, when even All-Father Óðinn despaired of accomplishing what was
needed to insure a future for Ásgarðr and the folk to whom he had extended
his protection, and when Tiwaz, already ancient enough to have been
forgotten by peoples of whom the Teutons knew little or nothing, stretched
forth his hand as pledge to Ásgarðr and to us that his friend, the
devouring Wolf, would not, until the end of the age, keep us from knowing
and living our Wyrd together.

Týr has kept his pledge to us, and now some of us, a tiny part of the last
folk still to honour him of all the peoples he has befriended, extend our
own hands and offer pledges of our own. I believe that it is not too late
to restore the ancient and sacred bond between us, and I know that some of
us are working to that end now; may the work succeed. May Zisa once more
bring peace and renewal to the tortured Earth and to the folk, and may she
guide us to the mysteries we need to inform and empower her restored rites.
And let Týr, Sky Father, help us to erect the new Irminsul joining heavens,
earth, and folk, and celebrating the victory, not of arms over an enemy,
but of our true spirit and destiny over the centuries of falsehood and
forgetfulness we have survived. Such, then, is my view of the Týric path,
which we now claim because it is ours by nature, and because it is ours by
Right!

In the modern age, Tiw's colour is often seen as red, though it may also be
a very light blue.

Some followers of Tiw think that the god's holy beast should be the wolf
(which, together with its ferocity, is a beast with a highly developed
social character, geared towards working within the common society of the
pack). However, Jamey Hrolf-Martin argues well for seeing the dog
(Gamlinginn suggests, specifically the Wolfhound, that noblest of all dogs)
as the beast of Tiw, mentioning that "The next semi-major role Týr plays in
myth is his battle with the helhound Garmr. The choice of Týr's doom-foe
has caused some well-founded confusion, given the latent antagonism that
exists between the lord of law and Fenrir, the wild wolf. Despite this,
given the nature of the opponents faced by the other major gods at
Ragnarök, I feel Týr's pairing with Garmr is ideal. Þórr faces the earthly
wyrm, Óðinn faces the wild wolf, and keeping in context, Týr faces the
trothful hound.

"Keeping in mind Garmr's role as guardian of the Helway, he serves a lawful
purpose. Among men the hound/dog has come to be known as an ever loyal
companion to man, and in Germany, the hound/dog was a sign...of the
foundation of justice and the codification of law...Given this, one might
draw the conclusion that the hound/dog is an animal sacred to Týr, much as
the wolf is sacred to Óðinn (note the contrasting nature of both beasts and
gods)". And what is a hound if not an even more socialized wolf?

The horse may also be associated with him: the English place-name "Tysoe"
is paired with the red horse cut into the slope of Edge Hill.

Tiw's weapon may have been the spear in earliest times; there is some
question as to whether the great spear-casting men of the Bronze Age
rock-carvings represent *Tiwaz or *Woðanaz.

Contributors

From the second paragraph to the discussion of Tiw's colour, this chapter
was written by Bill Bainbridge, Elder

Gamlinginn, Elder

Jamey Hrolf-Martin, from "Fenrir's Binder", Idunna V, ii, 19, For-Litha
1993, p. 37.




Chapter X

Wodan (Óðinn, Woden, Wotan, *Wodans, *Woðanaz)

(Bragi): 'Why did you take victory from him, if he seemed the bravest to
you?'

(Óðinn): 'For that which cannot be known: the gray wolf gapes ever at the
dwellings of the gods.' (Unknown skald, Eiríksmál)

The root of Wodan's name is the Proto-Germanic *Woðanaz - which may mean
"The Furious One", "The Mad One", or "The Inspired One". Wodan is all of
these, and more: his being is that wild wod which rushes through mind and
body, to be seen in the inspiration of skaldcraft, the howling of the
stormwind, and the frothing madness of the berserk warrior.

Of all the god/esses, Wodan is the one who is best known to us, as it was
his gifts for which the skalds and saga-tellers of the eldest days were
most grateful. He is the winner, keeper, and giver of the mead Wod-Stirrer
(ON Óðroerir), which he shares with those humans whom he wishes to bless so
that they may speak and write with some of his song-skill. Like all the
god/esses, he is many-sided, and more of his names and strengths have
survived than those of any other deities. He is the god of battle and
kingship; as leader of the Wild Hunt, he is greatly feared through the
Germanic lands, but farmers also leave their last sheaf out so that Wodan
and his horde of ghosts will make their fields fruitful. He is the father
of many human kindreds, and the betrayer of his chosen heroes; he sits in
dignity above the worlds on his seat Hliðskjálf, and wanders through the
worlds in the guise of an old tramp. Though all the god/esses have their
share of magic, he is best-known as a wizard, winner of the runes and
father of galdor-songs.

Wodan most often appears as a tall, one-eyed man with a long hoary beard,
wrapped in a blue-black cloak with a wide-brimmed hat or a hood drawn down
over half his face. Völsunga saga describes him as being barefooted and
wearing patterned breeches. Sometimes Wodan is also seen in full armour,
with byrnie, helm, shield, and spear (though not sword). All things about
the shapes of the holy ones tell us about their being. The blue-black cloak
Wodan wears is the colour of death and the undead, the shade our forebears
called "Hel-blue". In Icelandic sagas, men put on a blue cloak when they
were in a mood to slay, and Þiðreks saga tells us that wearing this colour
is the sign of "a cold heart and a grim nature". Yet it also shows us the
endless depths of the night sky - the realm of the god's wisdom - and his
might to hide and show forth what he chooses. Likewise the hat or hood:
Wodan's face, and what he sees through the eye that lies in Mímir's Well,
are ever half-hidden from humankind, his mirk-side ever matched evenly with
his brightness. Still, he appears differently at different times: there are
some true folk who have seen both of his eyes at once in their meditations,
and some images that are thought to be his, such as the mask-faces on the
backs of several Vendel Age raven-brooches, also have two eyes.

Although Snorri Sturluson, with the dual models of christianity and
Classical mythology before him, carefully presented Óðinn as the head of
the pantheon (and dignified ruler of Ásgarðr), the surviving evidence tends
to show that this god was not dearly loved by most folk. Unlike "Þórr" or
"Freyr", "Óðinn" was seldom used as an element in human names: there is one
late reference to a human woman named "Óðindís" on a 10th century Swedish
runestone from Vestmanland, and a relatively rare Danish man's name
"Óðinkaur" ( either "Óðinn-tresses" - in which case, perhaps a cultic title
referring to the long hair of a king or other holy man - or "the one given
to Óðinn"). The latter name survived into the christian period, and was the
name of at least two bishops of royal blood. "Óðinnphobia" is not uncommon
even today, and for good reason. Many call on him for help in one thing or
another, and hail him as kindly teacher and shaman, which he is in some of
his aspects, but those who do this without being wholly given to him should
be very careful. Of all god/desses, Wodan seems to be swiftest to claim the
geld for his gifts, and he often takes what one would rather not give. One
of the ways in which he sometimes works is shown in the tale of how King
Víkarr's mother asked Óðinn for help in her brewing. The god gave her that
help, asking in return "that which lies between your girdle and yourself".
While uncertain why he should want her dress, she agreed - only to find
that, unknown to her as yet, she was pregnant and that it was her unborn
son whom Óðinn wanted to be dedicated and, in time, sacrificed to him.

Wodan can be tricky to those who deal with him, but he is often cruel to
those who are truly given to him and love him best. He is a grim god, a
stirrer of strife; and as many of our sagas (Saga of the Völsungs perhaps
being the clearest of these) show, he is well known for testing his chosen
ones to destruction. In Icelandic literature, his heroes are usually the
type known as "dark heroes" - ugly, troublesome, tormented men of great
might and tangled character, such as Starkaðr and Egill Skalla-Grímsson.
Wodan himself is seldom a god of social order; if anything, he is the
opposite. His most beloved dynasty, the Völsungs, included outlaws,
werewolves, and brother-sister incest, and he says of himself in Hávamál
110, "I know that Óðinn swore a ring-oath: who can trust in his troth? He
swindled Suttungr, took symbel-mead from him, and left Gunnlöð to weep".
Yet of all gods, Wodan seems to be the one who is seen most often within
the Middle-Garth and who has the most to do with the affairs of humans,
especially on the large scale. He forges his chosen ones harshly and brings
about their death in time - not because he loves their suffering, but
because he is always gathering his might against the Last Battle, Ragnarök,
so that a new world may be born after the death of the old. He himself has
already undergone many great trials to gain the wisdom which makes this
possible: the nine nights' hanging and stabbing through which he found the
runes, the casting of his eye into Mímir's Well as payment for a draught of
its waters.

Despite these things, Wodan is not always dark of deeds or of heart. One of
his names is Óski, "wish" (perhaps related to the Anglo-Saxon proper name
Wusc-frea, Wish-Fro?), showing him as the kindly granter of desires. He
often appears to give rede and help to his chosen ones, as he does to
Sigurðr the Völsung and Hrólfr kraki, for instance. In a lighter mood, he
came to King Heiðrekr in the shape of a man Heiðrekr knew and challenged
him to a riddle-game; he also showed himself to Óláfr inn digri (Óláfr the
Fat, also known as "St. Óláfr") as an old storyteller, offering blessings
which the Christian king rejected by trying to hit the god with a
prayer-book. Hárbarðsljóð shows him playing a practical joke on Þórr,
appearing unrecognised to the other god as an old ferryman, introducing
himself by saying, "I am called Hoarbeard - I seldom hide my name" (this
out of a god with more than an hundred recorded by-names!), and teasing his
son until Þórr is ready to start swinging his hammer.

Wodan is more than a little fond of his drink; Grímnismál 20 tells us that
he lives on wine alone, and in Hávamál he recounts, perhaps a little
ruefully, his drinking of the three cauldrons of the mead of poetry: "I was
drunk, I was over-drunk, at the house of the wise Fjalarr". In her article
"Óminnis hegri", Ursula Dronke even offers an argument for ritual excessive
drinking to the point of vomiting as an Óðinnic act, which may or may not
be comforting on the morning after to those young thanes who have won the
somewhat uncoveted "Egill Skalla-Grímsson Drekk-til-at-Spýja Memorial
Award"...Wodan's adventures with women are also well-known: not only does
he father many dynasties on human women, but he also seduces etin-maids
such as Gunnlöð and has at least three lovers in the Ases' Garth - Frija,
the Frowe, and Skaði. In Hávamál, he boasts of his spells to win the
favours of women; and in Hárbarðsljóð, he matches his many exploits in the
bedchamber against Þórr's tales of fighting thurses.

As much as anything, Wodan is a teacher of all the wights of the worlds.
Sigrdrífumál tells how he scraped the runes into "the holy mead" and sent
them on wide ways, so that "they are with the Ases, they are with the alfs;
some with the wise Wans, some with mortal humans". The skald Þjóðólfr ór
Hvini called him hapta snytrir, "the one who makes the gods wise"
(Haustlöng), and Wodan does the same for human beings. Though this is by no
means a set rule, and has become less general in the past few years as the
elder troth has spread, many true folk whose lives are given to study and
teaching find themselves drawn to Wodan.

Wodan is also called Farmatýr, "Cargo-God". This title can be read in
several ways; it may be that, like Mercury (to whom he is compared in the
interpretatio Romana), he also had a role as a god of trade. It could be
taken as referring to the booty-loaded ship of the Viking whose raids Óðinn
blessed; it could speak of his return from Etin-Home fully laden with the
"cargo" of the mead Wod-Stirrer; or it could be related to his role as
ferryman of the dead, as seen in Frá dauða Sinfjötla. In modern practise,
however, it has also been found that Wodan as Farmatýr is a good god to
call upon when searching for things that are hard to find - not only
out-of-print books, but ritual items of all sorts.

Wodan's first shape was that of death-god: not as the keeper of Hella's
kingdom, but as the Chooser of the Dead, leading souls from world to world
and bringing the might and wisdom of the dead out from the dark realms to
the bright lands above. The rune *ansuz (Ase) is most closely tied to
Wodan; the Old Icelandic Rune-Poem says specifically that this rune names
this god. The word *ansuz itself may have first spoken of the dead
forebears whose might still worked on the living; according to Jordanes,
the Goths called their ancestor-ghosts "anses", which the christian
chronicler interpreted as "demi-gods". As drighten of the restless dead and
leader of the Wild Hunt, Wodan was known through the Germanic lands from an
early time - perhaps the earliest times. Though no Norse myths tell of the
Hunt, the Hunter's name is known as Wodan or Oden (or as the earlier form,
Wod) from Scandinavia to Switzerland. The rushing might of the dead through
the empty fields of winter brings forth all the strength that sank into the
earth at harvest's end: the Last Sheaf is left out for them so that their
blessings will make the lands fruitful again.

As the god who goes forth into the realm of death and brings might back,
Wodan became the god of magic and skaldcraft (which in itself is the skill
of galdor-magic): it is from the land of the dead that those lores rise and
that wod roars. As the Eddic poem Hávamál tells us, he got the runes by
means of a shamanic death-initiation. Hanged and stabbed at once, dangling
on the Gallows-Tree between the worlds, Wodan sank slain to find the
twenty-four-fold pattern which lies at the very roots of the worlds - the
shapes and sounds of the mights with which all things are wrought. As a
magician, he also calls the dead forth to learn lore from them and hear the
wisdom of their fore-tellings.

As the one who passes between the worlds of death and life, Wodan became
king- and forebear-god, for the might of the king in Scandinavia and Saxon
England was grounded on the mounds of his forefathers, from which he spoke
his deemings and laws with the wisdom of the holy ones who lay within.
Wodan was the first father of many of these lines, particularly in
Anglo-Saxon England where nearly all the kingly genealogies go back to him;
and it was he (together with Fro Ing, as spoken of later), who opened the
speech between the king lying beneath the mound and the ruler who sat on
its heights.

During the Iron Age, while the Germanic people were migrating, Wodan rose
more to be seen as a battle-god, in which role he was the chosen patron of
many of the Germanic tribes such as the Lombards, the Alamanns, and the
Cherusci. From the later Norse sources and the Classical references,
Wodan's place as battle-god and hence tribal patron was not due to his
might as a warrior, but his role as Chooser of the Slain: the god who made
the casualty-list was clearly the one whose choices ruled the outcome of
the struggle, and thus Wal-Father (Father of the Slain) became Sig-Father
(Father of Victory). In later Norse sources such as Styrbjarnar þáttr,
battle-hosts were given to Óðinn by letting a spear fly over them with the
words, 'Óðinn have you all!' The many deposits of weapons and accounts of
captives and booty being given as sacrifices in the Iron Age are likely to
show just such dedications: whatever survived the battle on the losing side
had already been marked out for the god's keeping.

Wodan was by no means the only god of the Vikings, not even of those who
went raiding or battling to win new lands for themselves in the south. But
his presence was surely mighty among them. The Raven Banner was borne by
the Danes in 878, as described in the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle: "that
battle-flag...which they call Raven"; and the Ecomium Emmae Reginae tells
how the Danes had a banner of white silk in the middle of which a raven
appeared at times of war. According to Orkneyinga saga, the jarl Sigurðr of
Orkney had a raven banner (woven by his mother) which ever brought victory
to the one before whom it was borne, but death to the one who bore it -
probably as a sacrifice marked out for Óðinn. Turville-Petre suggests that
this god was also the particular patron of many of the kings of Norway,
such as Haraldr inn hárfagri (Hairfair) and Eiríkr bloðøx. Although there
are few signs of the cult of Óðinn in Iceland, where Þórr and Freyr were
the favoured gods, Óðinn was not unknown there. His worship in that land,
however, seems to have been limited to a few individuals - skalds such as
Egill Skalla-Grímsson and cross-grained adventurers like Víga-Glúmr - who
were not only suited to him by nature, but stemmed from families with a
tradition of Óðinn-worship. Even in such families, dedication to Óðinn was
by no means the rule: Egill's brother and uncle, both named Þórólfr, had no
share in either the wisdom or the surly tempers of the family Óðinnists,
Kveldúlfr, Skalla-Grímr, and Egill.

Though Wodan is a battle-god, he is hardly ever seen fighting for himself.
He chooses the slain, but seldom actually slays them; his decision is
enough to set their doom. In token of this, it may be noted that he bears
no sword: though he gives swords and armour to his heroes, and is seen
dressed in byrnie and helmet, his only weapon is the spear Gungnir ("the
shaking one"). The spear is the sign of his might, used for hallowing - but
not in the same way as the Hammer of Thonar. The Hammer-hallowing is a
blessing; the hallowing of the Spear dooms whoever or whatever its flight
passes over to be destroyed in the Middle-Garth so that Wodan may have it
in his own hall. Although most pictures of Wodan show Gungnir as a
thrusting spear, all references to his use of it, or indeed to the Wodanic
use of any spear, tell us that it is a throwing spear. The many
spear-blades with runic inscriptions from the Migration Age are also very
narrow of haft, showing that they must have been used for casting rather
than thrusting. The same is true for the Kragehul spear-shaft (Denmark, 5th
century), the inscription of which is debated, but seems to be a ritual
dedication of its victims.

Wodan is known as the ruler of Walhall - the Hall of the Slain, where his
chosen einherjar ("Single-Harriers") fight every day and feast every night
in training for Ragnarök. Although Snorri presents Valhöll as the Norse
heaven reserved only for the battle-slain elite, in contrast to Hel where
everyone else ends up, this view seems to be late; the growth of the
Walhall-belief is spoken of further in the chapter "Soul, Death, and
Rebirth".

Together with the Walhall belief is the belief in the walkurjas
(walcyriges, valkyrjur) - the women who choose the slain for Wodan and bear
drink to the god and the heroes in Walhall. In earlier Ásatrú, the word
valkyrja was used to mean the woman who carried the drinking horn at
rituals; more recently, it has been either a very general word of honour
for a strong woman or else as a technical spiritual term for the fair
womanly being who wards, teaches, and inspires - the highest part of the
soul. The walkurjas will be spoken of further in the chapter on "Wights";
here it is enough to say that the reading of their being which is
best-supported from elder sources is that they seem to be parts of Wodan's
own self sent forth in womanly forms. The god himself is called
Valkjósandi, a manly reflection of the womanly valkyrja, and the
walkurja-name Göndul (probably related to gandr, "magical staff or wand")
mirrors Óðinn's own heiti Göndlir. The walkurja-names Herfjötur
(war-fetter) and Hlökk (fetter) are likeliest to stem from Wodan's own
skill at laying battle-fetters; "Skögul" ("shrieker") may be related to the
Óðinsheiti Viðhrimnir ("he who screams in opposition"). The walkurjas often
act as Wodan's messengers and, as Wagner had it, the embodiments of his
will. Eyvindr skáldaspillr's Hákonarmál shows Óðinn sending Göndul and
Skögul out to choose Hákon the Good in battle and bring him back to
Walhall; in Völsunga saga, the god sends a walkurja with an apple of
fruitfulness for one of his heroes.

Wodan's best-known beasts are the raven and the wolf, best known in
Northern literature as those who feed on "Yggr's barley" - the bodies of
the battle-slain. His two ravens, Huginn ('Thoughtful' or 'Bold') and
Muninn ('Mindful' or 'Desirous'), fly forth every day to bring him news of
all the worlds. The ravens' names are often incorrectly translated as
'Thought' and 'Memory', but they are in fact adjectival formations. Our
forebears thought that to see ravens flying before one was a sign of
Wodan's great favour, especially before a battle or after a holy rite. When
Hákon jarl of Hlaðir, who had been forcibly baptized, had escaped and won
his way back home, 'he made a great blessing. Then there came flying two
ravens and croaked loudly. Then the jarl thought he knew that Óðinn had
accepted the blessing and the jarl should have victory in battle'
(Heimskringla I, Óláfs saga Tryggvasonar ch. 27). The raven is also tied to
Wodan through its relationship to the gallows, so that: "There is...no
certain way of determining whether the raven first became associated with
Óðinn as gallows-bird or battle-bird; the Germanic sacrificial practice of
hanging prisoners after a battle might indeed make a distinction between
the two sources of the raven's diet meaningless" (Grundy, "The Raven in the
Cult of Óðinn" - unpublished dissertation chapter).

Óðinn's wolves are called Geri and Freki, both names meaning "the greedy
one". In its description of Valhöll, Grímnismál 20 tells us that "glorious
Host-Father, used to battle, sates Geri and Freki; but weapon-famous Óðinn
lives on wine alone". In Norse or Anglo-Saxon poetry, "to sate wolves" is a
usual phrase for killing men, but here the image is of a great drighten
feeding the hounds in his hall - a double image which shows us Wodan as the
bright ruler in God-Home and as the dark ruler of the corpse-strewn
battlefield. The wolf shows the fiercest side of Wodan's battle-might. His
warriors were berserks and shape-shifters, often called úlfheðnar
(wolf-coats) from their use of wolfskins to bring on this wod. The
best-known image of such a warrior is from one of the Torslunda helm-plate
matrices (Sweden, ca. 700), which shows a man in a wolfskin holding a spear
before a one-eyed weapon-dancer who wears a helmet horned with bird-heads.
Similar figures also appear on the sword-sheath plate from Gutenstein and
in one of the graves from Kungsängen (Sweden, ca. 800).

As well as ravens and wolves, Wodan also has the gray eight-legged horse
named Sleipnir ("slipper"), whom he rides through the worlds. This horse is
shown on the Gotlandic picture-stones Ardre VIII and Alskog Tjängvide I.
There has been much talk over the meaning of Sleipnir's legs. The simplest
reason given is that the eight legs shown on the picture-stones could have
merely been meant to show the horse's speed, and only later taken as a
specific peculiarity of Óðinn's mount. However, in Myth and Religion of the
North, Turville-Petre tells us that 'Apparitions portending death often
appear mounted on greys...(and) misshapen horses with varying numbers of
legs have been widely reported as portents of evil' (p. 57). H.R.
Ellis-Davidson suggests that there may be a relationship between
eight-legged Sleipnir and the funeral bier borne by four pallbearers; she
also refers to an Asian shamanka (female shaman) and her eight-legged horse
(Gods and Myths of Northern Europe, pp. 142-43). Sleipnir's eight legs
could also be seen as mirroring the eight worlds ringed around the
Middle-Garth.

Wodan himself appears as a serpent and an eagle, taking both shapes in his
quest for the mead of poetry; two of his heiti (by-names), Ófnir and
Sváfnir, are also listed as names of the wyrms who gnaw at the roots of the
World-Tree.

In elder days, Wodan was particularly worshipped with human sacrifices;
though he was not the only deity to whom men's lives were given, he was by
far the most usual one. This, of course, can no longer be done. However,
there was another manner of "human sacrifice": the dedication of one's own
life to Wodan, so that the one thus dedicated was known to be fey (feigr) -
death-doomed and willing alike to live or die for the god. This was best
spoken by Sigmundr the Völsung after Óðinn had appeared to break the sword
which the god had given him long ago. When Sigmundr's wife Hjördís found
him wounded on the field, she asked if he could be helped, and he replied,
"Many live when there is little hope, but my luck (heill) has turned from
me, so that I will not let myself be healed. Óðinn does not wish me to
brandish sword again, now that it is broken. I have had my battles while he
willed it." The emblem called the walknot , made of three overlapping
triangles, is strongly associated with Wodanic sacrifice and/or death in
battle; at least, this is the context in which it appears on the Gotlandic
picture stones. Though there is still some academic debate about what this
sign might have meant in elder times, heathens now take it that the walknot
is the token of those who are thus given to Wodan and should be worn only
by those who are willing to fall at his choice. The Old Norse reconstructed
form *valknútr - "knot of the slain" - is based on the modern Norwegian
name valknut for the embroidered or woven pattern.

Wodan has two brothers with whom he made the worlds, called either Vili and
Vé (Prose Edda) or Hoenir and Lóðurr ("Völuspá"). Hoenir appears as Wodan's
brother in other myths, for instance as one of the hostages given to the
Vanir; Lóðurr is often interpreted as Loki, as a couple of myths have
Óðinn, Hoenir, and Loki wandering through the worlds together. "Vili" and
"Vé" mean "Will" and "Holiness"; they are often seen as hypostases of Óðinn
himself. De Vries points out that in the traditional Germanic genealogies
the youngest generation has three alliterating names, and that therefore
the Óðinn-Vili-Vé triad must go back at least to Primitive Norse, before
the loss of the initial W- in front of o and the change of w to v which is
one of the marks of the transition from Primitive Norse to Old Norse
(Altgermanische Religionsgeschichte II, p. 281).

Holy places given to Wodan in elder days include mountains, fields, lakes,
streams, at least one bog, and groves. He himself is often seen as a god of
the wind, particularly the stormwind, but has watery aspects as well:
according to the story of Sinfjötli's death, it is he who steers the ship
of the dead over the dark waters, and Hárbarðsljóð also shows him as a
ferryman.

Stones which have been associated with this god in modern times are
meteorites and lapis lazuli. Because the ash-tree was used for
spear-shafts, it is thought to be a tree of Wodan; the yew is also seen as
his tree because of its close ties to both magic (especially runic magic)
and death. Nineteenth-century references speak of the fly agaric mushroom
as springing from the froth dropping from Sleipnir's mouth, but this is
likeliest to be a product of Germanic romanticism. It is also highly
unlikely that the fly agaric (or any other psychoactive substance) was used
in bringing on berserkergang, though this mushroom does have a long history
in shamanic use (Note: fly agarics are poisonous unless properly prepared -
do not try this at home). The European mandrake (not to be confused with
the American mandrake or May-Apple) has also been found to work well with
Wodan, as do hawthorn and mugwort.

The drink most associated with Wodan is mead, because of the clear tie to
the mead of skaldcraft. The Grímnismál reference to "wine" may be meant to
show Wodan's status, as wine was a rare drink imported to Scandinavia from
southerly lands; in an article in Skalk, Christine Fell suggests that the
word could have been used for any sort of fermented fruit drink. Especially
in poetic usage, it could also have referred to alcoholic beverages in
general. It has also been found in modern times that akavit is a good drink
for calling on Wodan.

Contributors

Freya Aswynn, Elder

Stephan Grundy (summarized by Kveldúlfr Gundarsson from Grundy's Ph.D.
thesis-in-progress: The Cult of Óðinn: God of Death?)

Kveldúlfr Hagan Gundarsson, Warder of the Lore

Diana Paxson, Elder

and all the folk of Trothline who took part in the "Óðinn's Eyes"
discussion





Chapter XI

Loki

"They hurry to their end,

they who ween themselves so strongly standing.

I am almost ashamed to work with them.

To turn myself again into licking flames

I feel a luring lust.

To consume them who once tamed me,

instead of stupidly going under with the blind,

though they be the godliest gods!

that does not seem stupid to me.

I'll think on it: who knows what I'll do?"

- Wagner, Richard (Rheingold, scene iv)

"This subtle friend of the gods is rather refractory to a sober method of
analysis dividing him into mythological and folkloristic elements. As a
matter of course he has been caught time upon time and placed on the
anatomist's table, has had his body dissected and his inner organs numbered
as belonging partly to a corn spirit, partly to a spirit of nature and
partly to something else; but the analysis has never succeded in depriving
him of his deftness and agility, he slips from under the hands of the
anatomists and springs to his feet ready with a shocking jest" (Grønbech,
II, pp. 330 -31).

There are few god/esses who bring forth such a strong and swift reaction
among followers of the Northern ways as Loki. Particularly in the earlier
days of the Rebirth, he was seen almost as a "Nordic Satan", never called
on, and usually not acknowledged as a deity by anyone - with a few
exceptions such as Alice Karlsdóttir, whose Borealis article on Loki stands
as one of the best heathen explorations of his character (this article was
later reprinted in Gnosis). There are still plenty of folk in Germanic
religion who are shocked by the very idea of giving Loki any sort of
worship or spiritual attention, and cannot imagine how someone following
the Northern ideals of honour and troth could do so - they see Loki as a
sort of Nordic Satan. The idea that someone can call themselves "Ásatrú",
true to the Ases, and still worship or even work magically with the one who
often works to bring about their end, is still one that meets with much
challenge, and is indeed open for discussion. However, there are a few true
folk who, like Wodan himself, have found the Trickster to be someone worth
sharing a horn with. Forthwith the words of one of those folk, Paul
Stigård...

Picturing the Æsir, Loki doesn't fit. He is not a valorous warrior, an
incarnation of the world's fertility, nor a sage with the wisdom of the
ages. He does not represent a divine level of honour, strength, courage, or
any ideal of Teutonic society. Picturing Ásatrú, Loki still doesn't fit.
Books dealing with the Norse gods as a subject of religion or magick tend
to spend a half page on him. Just enough to show thought was given to
Mischief-maker, but not enough to encourage any thought about him by the
reader. Asking Ásatrúar brings a similar reaction. No one seems to want to
think about Loki, he just doesn't fit.

However, Loki is ever-present in Norse mythology. If our pagan ancestors
wanted to ignore him as much as modern Ásatrúar do, he would be briefly
mentioned in the Edda, rather than driving Þórr mad in every other lay.
Obviously, Loki fits somewhere.

Scholarly works on Norse mythology and paganism also only deal with him
perfunctorily. Therefore, books were written to deal with Laufey's-son
separately. De Vries wrote "The Problem of Loki" in 1933, and Rooth's Loki
in Scandinavian Mythology came out in 1961. Loki was dealt with
academically. However, reviving the religion of Óðinn and Þórr leaves no
rest for the wicked. Loki insists on having his due.

A problem arises, though, in trying to know who Loki is. This is an eternal
problem with neo-pagans. Worshipping a deity who embraces more than one
concept prevents easy understanding. Flame-hair takes this to a new level,
not only presenting himself in many different, even contradictory, aspects,
but also requiring at least minimal effort of study to understand these
aspects. He not only refuses to let himself be known, no one seems to want
to know him.

However, knowing Od's-blood is possible, whether or not it is desirable. In
doing so, another problem facing neo-pagans arises: that of reconciling
oneself with one's god. The more common case is the original pagan worship
of a deity seeming horrible: the Blood-Eagle and similar rites are no
longer desirable. But in this case, the god himself appears reprehensible.
Understanding Loki on an intellectual level becomes as much of a problem as
dealing with him on a spiritual level.

Possibly the worst act associated with Loki is the killing of Baldr. To
most Ásatrúar, this no doubt seems the worst crime possible, the killing of
a god. And Wolf's-father is not even remorseful for this act, as well he
should not be.

The Edda does not tell of the time Baldr spent in Jötunheimr, learning
their ideas before he came back, determined to undermine the gods. He
taught them of peace and became the most beloved of the Æsir. He spread
flowers and the concept of utopia. He was actually talking deities of war
into being nice. While it is not known why the others were so gullible,
Loki was not fooled. He discovered Peace-freak's weakness to mistletoe,
which was hard to find as it is not native to Iceland, and put that
knowledge to good use.

Of course, this is not serious. Baldr was not out to destroy the strength
of the Æsir, but his teachings were certainly having that effect. Ragnarök
would be coming early in the year, and the gods would not have had a chance
in Hel. And if Loki had simply spoken out against this divine hippie, no
one would have listened. After all, who trusts Loki? They would have tied
him down right then to prevent him from harming the Flower-powerful. And
his efforts would have come to naught (Warder's note: Snorri's presentation
of Baldr as a kind, sweet, peaceful Christ-figure is almost certainly a
great distortion of the god's original warrior-character, as discussed in
the chapter on Baldr, where the many spiritual implications of this myth
are looked at more closely. But when one considers what Snorri seems to
have been doing here, the Loki he knew is to be applauded as the force of
change who - even in a literary work - shows up to keep the forces of
stagnation from weakening Ásgarðr. Of course, no one thanks the guy who
rocks the boat! - KHG).

But there are other despicable acts, other atrocities Sky-walker has done.
His family tree reads like a litany of plagues and curses (as if he were
responsible for his relatives!). He is apparently the father of the
Miðgarðsormr, the Úlfr Fenris, and Hel; the brother of Byleistr ("Lame")
and Helblindi ("Death-Blind" - one of Wodan's less lovable aspects - KHG),
as well as the mother of Sleipnir, Óðinn's eight-legged horse. And if Baldr
can end up resembling Christ by the time the Edda is written, apparently
Loki can have descendants similar to Lucifer at that point as well.
However, since Loki's children by his other wife, Sigyn, turned out
wonderful, is it possible his other progeny took after Angrboda, their
mother? If so, this still does not deal with the question of marehood, but
that is another matter entirely.

This leaves the primary negative image of Loki, that of a thief. Many times
he plays a prank or steals some treasure and brings down the wrath of the
Æsir. However, they do not simply punish him or cast him out, they demand
he solve the problem. Which he does, every time. He has a trait common to
tricksters the world over: providing. Just as Prometheus gave humans fire,
Sammael gave Adam and Eve the Apple of Knowledge, and Raven gave the world
light, Loki, under the name Lóðurr, has the power to provide mind
("Völuspá" mentions life-force and good appearance - KHG) to humanity, as
well as returning anything of which he deprives Ásgarðr. In fact, he is
very likely the only one capable of retrieving such things. Simply put, he
has the power to give and take, and is the only one with the power to give
back what he has taken.

Which is one reason to worship such a god. When something disappears
mysteriously, Týr is certainly not to blame, and as such cannot help in its
retrieval. Lost objects are the province of Loki, and while his followers
may be more likely to lose possession, they do not stay lost.

Another dominion of Loki is parties, especially the crashing thereof.
Lokeans come and go unannounced, and try to avoid being bounced from
parties as ruthlessly as Venom-eye was in Lokasenna. On the other hand,
Ásatrúar who want their celebrations to go smoothly do not offend, but
please Loki. Unlike the Greek goddess Eris, he does not pick on people just
because they got his attention.

Actually, he does have many other aspects in common with Eris, including
bad puns and mental masturbation. However, choosing the path of Loki is
more than that, transforming life into the divine rebellion, demonstrating
the personal existence of free will every day. Discordians refer to such
people as "Chaosists", those who stir up chaos. "Zenarchy" (by Kerry W.
Thornley) explains a fitting sort of philosophic lifestyle for
Loki-worship, although by no means the only one.

For example, an aspect of life Thornley does not mention is the use of
computers. If there is a single greatest representation of intelligence and
freedom flowing as fire, it is the energy pulsing through electronics. The
keyboard is the taufr of inspiration and the monitor scrys into the Well of
Wyrd. No vitki should be without one, much less a follower of Loki.

But all manifestations of freedom without bounds, such as keys, and
intelligence without limit, such as books, are connected with Gold-thief.
This is why his punishment is so horrible. At the end of Lokasenna, Loki
was captured and taken to a cavern under the Earth. There he was tied down
with the bowels of his son Nari, and a serpent was placed above him to drip
venom onto his face. Sigyn catches the vile liquid in a bowl until it fills
up, and then she must pour it out while a few drops of poison spill into
her husband's eyes. When he writhes, the Earth shakes.

No doubt the binding of Loki happened in conjunction with the religious
suppression in Scandinavia. One of the most positive aspects of Ásatrú is
the free admission that every aspect of the religion is a metaphor, a motif
of life. When the binding of Loki is mentioned, it is in a prose
afterthought to a poetic lay. It is an addition, as the free spirit of the
Norse was not being bound until later in history.

But the final point is that just as Óðinn, Þórr, and even Freyr and Frigg
have dark sides, Loki has a bright spot or two, and both the "good" and
"evil" need to be accepted in any deity. Further, to be Ásatrú is to be
true to all the Æsir, not just most of them. Ásatrúar have as many layers
as Ásatrú does. Just as all are made up of small amounts of the more
popular gods, all have a little bit of Loki as well. Loki has been bound
for at least 800 years, as the Teutonic religion has. Now, his bonds are
loosening and we gain his fire in our soul and an occasional mischievous
spark in our eye.

As far as our forebears' view of Loki, we know relatively little outside of
the Eddas. He is not born of the Ases or Wans: he is an etin, with whom
Wodan swore blood-brotherhood. This is no bar to counting him among the
god/esses: Skaði and Gerðr are also of pure etin-blood, and most of the
holy folk are half-breeds. He is the son of the etin Fárbauti
("Cruel-Striker") and a womanly wight called Laufey ("Leafy Island").
Although there is no direct Norse evidence for the nineteenth-century
reading of Loki as a fire-god (based on a false etymology connecting him
with logi, 'flames'), a naturalist interpretation might read his birth as
springing from lightning setting a wood on fire - an event which, in
itself, is destructive, but is often needful for the health of the land.
One might even draw this out to suggest that, like forest fires, Loki
brings true devastation on a long-term scale forth only when he has been
kept from doing his smaller works of destruction (leading to new life) for
a while.

Loki has several heiti, including Hveðrungr (roarer? - Völuspá 55,
Ynglingatal 32), Loptr (he who fares aloft - or, as Paul translates it,
"Skywalker"), and perhaps Lóðurr (etymology difficult). Snorri describes
him as handsome, and he is normally seen as a short slight man with fiery
red hair. The small size is surprising, since he is supposed to be of
etin-kin; but other wights (mostly Þórr) are always threatening or beating
him, and he seems unable to defend himself physically. On the other hand,
Heimdallr, as Warder of the Ases' Garth, is presumably a fine warrior, and
Loki proves his equal at Ragnarök...

Not only is Loki always getting the Ases into trouble and out again - but
his solutions always bring them more good than they had before. Sleipnir,
the walls of the Ases' Garth, Wodan's spear, Thonar's Hammer, Sif's gold
hair, Fro Ing's golden boar and ship, the acceptance of Skaði among the
god/esses - we have Loki to thank for them. He does not do these things out
of loyalty, a trait he seldom shows (in fact, to save his own skin, he once
tricked his good friend Thonar into faring towards an ambush in Etin-Home
without Hammer or gauntlets). Most of the time, his motivation is to keep
from being punished for whatever he did wrong in the first place.
Nevertheless, there are many who might think that the reparations he ends
up making far outweigh the original damage. Even when he is in the worst
odour with the Ases, he is inadvertently helpful: while hiding out from
their wrath, he builds a fishing net. As he hears Þórr nearing, he burns
it, then leaps into the river and turns into a salmon - but the pattern of
the net remains in the ashes so that the Ases can recreate it, and Loki is
caught by his own invention and Þórr's quick hands.

Loki is also sometimes helpful when he was not responsible for the problem
in the first place. In the Eddic poem Þrymskviða, for instance, he has
nothing to do with the theft of Þórr's Hammer - but it is he who finds out
where the Hammer is and what Þrymr wants in return for giving it back, and
it is he whose quick wits cover so that Þórr can pass as Freyja through the
whole of a bridal feast at which the cross-dressed god shows a distinctly
unladylike character. He also goes above and beyond the call of duty to
make Skaði laugh by tying one end of a rope to a goat's beard and the other
to his bollocks, then starting a tug-o-war with the goat. All of the
stories in which it is Loki who saves the day (whether or not he was the
one who nearly lost it) hint that perhaps it is not such a bad idea to ask
him for help in the stickiest situations. In one of our older skaldic
poems, Haustlöng, which describes Loki's recapture of Iðunn from the etin
Thjazi, Loki is called "Óðinn's friend", "Þórr's friend", and "Hoenir's
friend". Simek suggests that this, together with his generally good
portrayal in the poem and the myth, "could possibly point to an originally
more positive role for Loki in Germanic mythology" (Dictionary, p. 315).

Loki often appears as Þórr's travelling companion on journeys to Etin-Home.
In fact, J.S. Pereira has suggested that travellers in highly dangerous
areas would do well to call on Thonar and Loki together - though stresses
that this would probably only be done in times of the greatest need and
most intense danger, such as a war zone where the social order has already
broken down so far that Loki's amoral swiftness of wit is the best thing
for dealing with it. In such a case, Thonar would not only give the
strength and endurance such a faring would need, but also offer a sign of
the stability lying on the other side of chaos and the traveller's hope to
get to settled steads again. For more ordinary farings, one might suspect
that calling on Loki (with or without Thonar) would, at best, be an
invitation to lost luggage. Then again, Loki might be just the god to ask
about bringing said luggage back, although we would suggest insuring it
before calling his attention to it!

Despite his usual charm, Loki appears as a terrifying figure at Ragnarök,
when all his might is turned towards destruction - when he breaks his
chains and leads the hosts of the evil dead across the sea on a ship called
Naglfar, which is made from the finger- and toe-nails of corpses. Then, one
of his sons is Wodan's bane and one is Thonar's; if Surtr can be seen as
his kinsman as well, which seems likely, it is almost wholly Loki's clan
that works the doom of the gods. It should also not be forgotten that he is
the god of earthquakes, forest fires, and such.

The earliest evidences we have for Loki are the "Balder-bracteates" of the
Migration Age, on which a winged figure - probably Loki in Freyja's
falcon-cloak - stands in front of the sacrifice. One image which is
probably of Loki has also survived from the Viking Age. The Snaptun
bellows-stone found near Horsens in Jutland (now held in the Prehistoric
Museum at Moesgård near Århus) shows a moustached face with its lips sewn
together - the revenge taken on Loki by the dwarf Brokk when Loki had
cleverly gotten out of paying for a lost wager with his head. Though there
is no way to really know, one might guess that the smith's sympathies were
with the dwarf and that this particular reference on the bellows-stone was
a warning to Loki not to get too frisky in the smithy: in fact, the
practical purpose of the stone was to feed the flames with a controlled
flow of air while protecting the bellows from their heat. This use of his
image also suggests the possibility of Loki as first stemming, not from the
etins of mountain and ice, but from Surtr's fiery kin in Muspell-Home.

As far as traditional worship goes, there is no evidence for it, neither
place-names nor literary/historical references. As Bill Bainbridge
observes, most religious practice is based, one way or the other, on
upholding social norms; while the dangerous Trickster may have had his
place in some rites, it is unlikely that he ever had an organized cult.

However, ritual drama may well have been a major feature of Scandinavian
worship; and if the myths were enacted in a cultic context, Loki would have
shown himself very important to Norse worship indeed. Here he could be
likened to the Trickster-figures of other traditional cultures, whose
clowning during ritual performances and processions - and the whole concept
of temporary reversal and "carnival" mockery of the established order
presided over by the Lord of Misrule, which ultimately strengthens social
norms - is needful to the success of the rites. Like many other Tricksters
or Lords of Misrule, Loki is of ambiguous gender: not only does he mother
Sleipnir (and it should be remembered that calling a man a mare and/or
saying he had borne children was the worst insult possible to the Vikings),
but he also dresses as Þórr's lady-in-waiting in Þrymskviða, and in
Lokasenna, Óðinn accuses him of having lived under the earth as a woman for
eight winters and borne children. When he wants to travel most swiftly, he
borrows, not Wodan's eagle-shape, but the falcon-hides of the Frowe and
Frija; this again must be seen as a form of shamanic cross-dressing. The
Trickster is the one who crosses all boundaries (especially those of social
taboo), creating the border-state in which acts of ritual shaping and
reshaping are possible. This function, particularly in regards to various
degrees of cross-dressing, is shared by other deities; but Loki is the one
who embodies it most often and thoroughly. The border-state is the time of
greatest might - but also the time of greatest danger, when nothing and
no-one is safe; this too should be remembered when dealing with Loki.

It is also worth pointing out that the poem Lokasenna ("the Flyting of
Loki"), in which Loki crashes a party of the Ases to which he was not
invited (rather like the evil fairy in "Sleeping Beauty") and trades
vicious insults with everyone there, is actually one of our richest sources
for Norse god/ess lore. Until recently, it had been thought that the
irreverent attitude this often raunchy poem shows towards the god/esses was
a sign that it had been written after the conversion; but the langage and
metre are consistent with an early date. Gurevich suggests that the mockery
of Lokasenna actually "should be interpreted not as a sign of the
'twilight' of paganism but as a mark of its strength...All these parodies,
mockeries, and profanations occur within the sacral sphere" (Historical
Anthropology of the Middle Ages, pp. 168-69), arguing that one of the
strongest and earliest characteristics of traditional religions is the
ability to weave humour with the most serious holiness and even to laugh at
the god/esses. This is surely a side of the Norse religion in which Loki
comes into his own....

Grönbech suggests that Loki "was the sacral actor whose business was to
draw out the demon, to bring the antagonism to a head and thus to prepare
for victory - hence the duplicity of his nature; to act the part he must
partake in the holiness and divinity of the sacrificial circle, and when
this ritual fact is translated into the language of the legend, it assumes
this form: Loki is of giant extraction, born in Utgard and admitted to the
company of the gods on his entering into friendship and a blood covenant
with Odin" (II, p. 331).

Loki is the total antithesis of social rules, whose very being causes them
to break down around him. Sometimes good comes of this, and sometimes ill.
Taken to its farthest reaches, this characteristic of his appears in his
role as one of the chief causes of Ragnarök. It should be marked that
Loki's chief foe is not Thonar (who thinks little of breaking guest-laws
when he has the chance to bash an etin on the head), nor even Tiw (as one
might have guessed), but Heimdallr, the warder of the Rainbow Bridge and of
the gates of the Ases' Garth.

In later Scandinavian folklore, Loki appears as the creator of fleas and
spiders, and the spider, lokke, may possibly have some etymological
connection with him. This would fit neatly with Loki's character. As well
as the father of monsters and mother of Sleipnir, he is certainly likely to
be the creator of mildly obnoxious bugs and insects which, like the spider,
can be very helpful or can be deadly poisonous. Although cockroaches seldom
appear in Scandinavia or Germany, it is a pretty good bet that Loki has
something to do with them as well. Other than that, there are no beasts
traditionally associated with Loki. However, Alice Karlsdottir suggests
that the grackle, being a small, loud-mouthed, and obnoxious cousin of the
raven, is probably Loki's bird. The fox, which seems like a smaller,
weaker, but slyer and more adaptable cousin of the wolf, has also been
suggested for him in modern times. For the same reason, American Ásatrúar
might also see Loki in the coyote; he surely has much in common with the
Amerindian spirit Coyote.

When working with Loki, it should not be forgotten that he has a truly
ill-willing side, and his sense of humour can be very nasty indeed at
times. He can, indeed, be a practical joker of the most dangerous sort.
Great care is called for, especially in a religion such as that of the
Troth, where fires of sundry sorts play such a great part. Both houses and
woodlands can go up in flames very easily... Calling Loki into your life
will surely bring changes, but there is no surety that you will like them,
or even live through them. Toasting Loki at symbel has been found to bring
small accidents within the evening (such as eyeglasses melted in campfires
or lost forever in snowbanks). Those who work with delicate equipment,
especially that through which energy runs, should be especially careful:
Loki is the God of the Glitch and the Power Surge.

Nevertheless, it is probably better to be on good terms than bad with him.
Some of us have found that a toast made to Loki, or a few drops poured to
him, before the start of a ritual/feast works well to stave off disasters,
whereas Lokasenna shows in graphic detail what happens when Loki is not
given a drink and a seat among the other god/esses - and even when he is
not invited, he will show up anyway. Further, it might even be seen as
somewhat rude to ask Thonar in and tell him his travelling-buddy has to
stay outside, or invite Wodan to a feast and let him think that his
blood-brother is unwanted.

In working with Loki today, it has been found that he is especially fond of
single-malt Scotch, and a shot of it poured out to him with the appropriate
request will often encourage him to fix whatever horrible thing he has done
to your life or your computer.

On the wilder edges of Ásatrú, there exists a disorganization by the name
"Friends of Loki" - a sort of Norse Discordianism, frequently manifesting
via computer. "The Friends of Loki are known for strict dogmas,
coordination, hierarchy, organizational rules, orthodoxy, and respect for
the staider and socially oriented aspects of mainstream Ásatrú. Not!"

But perhaps the most truly Lokean blessing/curse was not first spoken by
any Germanic folk, but by the Chinese: "May you live in interesting times!"
Whether this is a blessing or a curse...just depends on how well you get on
with Loki.

Contributors

Bill Bainbridge

Alice Karlsdóttir

J.S. Pereira

Lew Stead

Paul Stigård

and very special thanks to Grendel Grettisson for "Friends of Loki", and to
all the folk from Trothline who had their say in the long-running and often
rather warm "Loki" discussion.





Chapter XII

Balder (Baldr, Bealdor)

The greatest secret of the North is a secret that only two know: "What did
Óðinn say - before he climbed on bale-fire - into the ear of his son?" With
that question as the last one of the riddle-game, Óðinn showed himself
forth to both the etin Vafþrúðnir and the human hero Heiðrekr, winning the
games and setting the dooms of his opponents. Wodan and Balder: they know
the rune that is hidden from all others, the eighteenth song of Hávamál
which Wodan will not tell.

Snorri tells us that Balder is the fairest and most beloved of the gods. He
is the heir to the Ases' Garth, the son of Wodan and Frija - but was doomed
to an early death. Snorri's version of Balder's death is one of the
best-known tales of the North: how, after Frija had gotten everything in
the worlds except the little mistletoe to swear not to harm him, the gods
played a game in which they tossed weapons at Balder. Meanwhile, Loki, in
the shape of an old woman, had gotten the secret out of Frija and cut an
arrow of mistletoe, putting it in the hand of the blind god Höðr and aiming
it at Balder. After Balder's death, Hella said that she would let him go if
everything in the worlds would weep - and this happened, except for one
giantess named Thokk, who, Snorri tells us, was Loki in disguise. However,
according to Völuspá, Baldr and Höðr (who was slain in revenge by Váli, the
son that Óðinn had gotten for that one deed) shall come back when the world
is reborn after Ragnarök and rule in Óðinn's place.

Saxo Grammaticus has a different version of the story. As he tells it,
Balder was an aggressive, highly sexed warrior who competed with Höðr (not
blind in this version) for a woman. One day, Höðr came on the house of some
"forest-maids" (generally thought to be walkurjas) who told him that they
decided the outcome of war by their invisible deeds in battle, and warned
him not to attack Baldr. Höðr then learned that there was but one sword
that would kill Balder, which could be found together with an armring that
would give wealth to its owner. After several adventures and struggle
between the two heroes, the "forest-maids" found Höðr again and told him he
would have to eat the magical food from which Baldr got his strength. Höðr
followed the three maidens who made the food and convinced them to give him
some of it, after which he was able to mortally wound Balder.

The story of Balder, especially as Snorri tells it, has often been thought
to have been influenced by christianity. This is almost certain in Snorri's
portrayal of the god: "He is the wisest of the Ases and most beautifully
spoken and most gentle, but it is one of his characteristics that none of
his decisions can be fulfilled". Snorri, in fact, gives us the image of a
beautiful, suffering, and rather passive god - very suspiciously like the
"White Christ". This is hardly consistent with the rest of what we know
about him. Like Freyr and Freyja, Balder is known to us only by a title
meaning "ruler" - a title which continued in ordinary Anglo-Saxon usage
and, less often, in Old Norse. The root of the word is probably "strength";
it may also be identical with the Old Norse adjective baldr - "daring,
courageous". His wife's name, Nanna, probably means, "the courageous" or
"the battle-joyful" (de Vries, Religionsgeschichte, p. 223). Although Saxo
is infamous for garbling his stories, as well as euhemerizing them, his
description of Balder as a warrior is likely to be closer to our forebears'
beliefs than is Snorri's pre-Christ. The tale of the Finnish legendary hero
Lemminkäinen was also probably influenced by or based on Balder's story
(Turville-Petre, Myth and Religion, pp. 117-18). Like Balder, Lemminkäinen
was slain with a weak reed or herb (cowbane) by a blind man. His mother,
too, sorrows after him and undergoes a great journey for his sake, but she
is more successful than Frija: she is able to put her son's body together
and bring him back to life. Lemminkäinen's chief characteristics are his
love for battle and his love for women, concerning both of which he is
notably successful: he is the very paradigm of the manly young hero, and it
is likely that Balder also shared this character.

Likewise in the heroic mode, Balder's dreams foretell his own doom. In
this, he closely resembles many (indeed, most) of the heroes of the North,
who typically dream their own deaths before the event comes about. The
description of these dreams in Saxo, where the goddess of the underworld
promises Balder her embraces, are particularly similar to Gísli's
death-foreboding dreams in which a dark dís claims him as her husband
(Gísla saga Súrssonar) and Glaumvor's dream of dead women beckoning to
Gunnarr, which foretells the doom of the Burgundian king ("Atlamál hin
groenlenzku"). In fact, Balder is particularly (one might even say fatally)
attractive to these dark and deathly goddesses. It is Balder whom Skaði
desires above all others, though it is not his wyrd to be claimed by her:
it is Hella who decks her hall and brews the beer for his welcome feast.

The earliest literary work we have which probably holds references to the
Balder story is the Anglo-Saxon "Dream of the Rood" (ca. 650-750), which
inverts the process demonstrated by Snorri. Although this poem was
ostensibly about Christ, many of its elements do not correspond to the
christian myth of the crucifixion. The poem's "Christ" is presented as a
strong young Germanic warrior undergoing a swift and violent heroic ordeal,
and Wyrd is in fact invoked to describe his doom: "that was a dreadful
Wyrd" (line 73). He is wounded, not with spear or nails, but "with arrows";
after his death, the whole of the world weeps, a detail which is elsewhere
only found in the Balder tale. It seems likely that the christian poet used
the story of Balder to transform his god from a meek figure undergoing a
shameful criminal's punishment to an heroic sacrifice of the sort for which
the Anglo-Saxons already had a model.

The image of Balder as a sacrifice is almost certainly native Germanic. In
Húsdrápa, which was written by the Heathen Úlfr Uggason in the tenth
century and shows no taint of christian influence, Balder is called the
"heilagr tafn" - the "holy sacrifice". The very word "tafn" was used only
for Heathen gifts to the god/esses; it could not be given a christian
interpretation after the conversion. It was most often used in skaldic
poetry as an internal rhyme for "hrafn" (raven), referring to the
battle-dead; the skaldic poet Helgi trausti Óláfsson specifically called
his slain foeman "Gaut's tafn" (Óðinn's sacrifice). The interpretation of
Balder's death as a holy, and probably Wodanic, sacrifice is also borne out
by the way in which it seems to appear on a number of bracteates of the
Migration Age, as spoken of later.

Balder's home is called "Breiðablik" (Broad-Gleaming), and it is said that
no feiknstafir (staves of harm) can come there, which de Vries reads as
speaking of Balder's invulnerability (Religionsgeschichte, p. 214). The god
Forseti (Fosite) is supposed to be his son. Balder was worshipped during
the Viking Age; several place-names in Sweden and Denmark are compounded
with his, including a "Balder's Mountain" and a "Balder's Cornfield".
Turville-Petre comments, however, that these names tell us little - only
that his cult does not seem to have been practised widely, that it might
have been connected with rocks and hills, and perhaps that there was an
element of fruitfulness to it (Myth and Religion, pp. 117-18). There is a
place-name Baldersbrønd (Balder's Spring) in Denmark, which Saxo mentions.
According to the Gesta Danorum, when Balder returned to shore after
defeating Höðr in a sea-battle, he pierced the earth to loose this spring
so that his tired soldiers could drink. This, as Stephan P. Schwartz has
pointed out (Poetry and Law in Germanic Myth, pp. 20-21), bears a close
resemblance to the Frisian legend of Fosite, and may well hint at a belief
in Balder, as well as Fosite, as a law-god (see the discussion under Fosite
in "Wuldor and Other Gods").

The "Zweite Merseburger Zauberspruch" also mentions Balder:

"Phol and Wodan went to the wood.

Then Balder's horse sprained its foot.

Then chanted Sinthgunt, Sunna her sister;

then chanted Frija, Folla her sister,

then chanted Wodan, as well he knew how to.

Thus be the bone-sprain, thus be the blood-sprain, thus be the limb-sprain,

bone to bone,

blood to blood,

limb to limb:

thus be the binding".

There has been much academic argument about this charm, including the
question of whether "Balder" is meant as a personal name, or whether it is
a title for the god "Phol". If this charm has any meaning besides being the
common Indo-European healing charm with Germanic names plugged in, then the
interpretation which seems the most spiritually valid (though
Turville-Petre dismisses it as over-imaginative) is the idea that the
stumbling of Balder's horse on the way to the wood (presumably, to the holy
stead within a grove) was a sign of his coming death. The belief that the
stumbling of a horse was an ill sign was, indeed, very well known to our
forebears; and in his studies of bracteate-iconography (see below), Karl
Hauck has come to the conclusion that there is Migration Age pictoral
evidence for this reading of the charm.

The bracteate from Fakse (Denmark) has a central figure with a ring in his
left hand and a half-broken twig jutting downward from his solar plexus. He
stands in a half-marked enclosure. Behind him is a man with a spear; before
him is a man with wings who wears a feminine skirt and also holds a ring. A
bird of prey hovers above his head; there are two fish at the bottom of the
bracteate. On the bracteate from Beresina-Raum, the same grouping appears,
with the difference that the figure in feminine garb stands within the
semi-enclosure and holds the twig up; the shot has not yet been fired. The
one from Gummerup has the foremost figure holding a sword as well as a
ring; the twig is shooting overhead.

Karl Hauck, a German scholar who has specialized in bracteate iconography
for over forty years, has written extensively on these bracteates: his
conclusions can be summarized as follows. The spear-holding man is clearly
Wodan, the winged and cross-dressed figure Loki, and the man in the middle
Balder. Hauck interprets the ring which Balder holds as Draupnir, which
Wodan put on the funeral pyre, and suggests that here, it appears as the
symbol of Balder's sacrifice. As discussed in greater detail below, it is
possible that Höðr's part in the slaying was a later addition and that
Wodan originally had a more direct part in it; Hauck's interpretation is
that in the oldest version, which we see on the bracteates, Wodan gave his
son the ring while Balder was still alive, to mark him out for doom. The
enclosure, which appears in several variant forms, is especially
interesting: it seems to show a fence of some sort, and in the area from
which these bracteates stem, a number of place-names go back to an original
"Óðinn's enclosure", in which the particular term for "enclosure" seems to
describe a construction of wood ("Frühmittelalterliche Bildüberlieferung
und die organisierte Kult", p. 487). In Snorri's version of the story,
vengeance cannot be taken on Höðr at once because the slaying occured in a
holy place (griðastaðr, or "peace-stead"); this may also refer to a
specific holy enclosure. The bird of prey may represent, as Hauck has often
suggested, a baleful battle-wight whose appearance is a sign of Balder's
doom, or it may be one of Wodan's birds ready to claim its share of the
sacrifice; the fish which appear at the bottom of a couple of these
bracteates probably show the might of the Underworld where Balder,
according to the Norse sources, shall soon fare on his burning ship.

The variant forms of the Siegfried-story also offer a suspiciously close
correspondence to the tale of Balder's death. According to the German
Nibelungenlied, Siegfried had bathed in a dragon's blood and was therefore
invulnerable except for one spot on his back where a linden leaf had
fallen. Hagen found out from Siegfried's wife Kriemhild where that place
was, and speared Siegfried in the back as he bent to drink from a stream.
Both the invulnerability motif and the spearing are missing from the Norse
version - it might be suggested, because Balder was still known as a god in
the North at that time, but had long been suppressed in the south. In both
versions, however, the figure of Siegfried was very like that of Balder:
handsome and loved by all, the bravest of men and the best of warriors, but
doomed to die young in spite of all his strength and magical warding.
According to Continental tradition (the epic poem "Waltharius" and the
German source for Þiðreks saga), Hagen was also said to be one-eyed; and
his name means "hedge-thorn" (hawthorn), which is a wholly unlikely name
for a Germanic warrior (the popularity of the Old Norse name Högni was
based on this character's heroic role in the lays about the fall of the
Rhenish Burgundian kingdom). "Hagen", like "Helgi" and a few other names
which became common in the Viking Age, may well have originally been a
cultic title, referring to an enclosure like that in which the Balder of
the bracteates was sacrificed. The place-names Hauck cites also hint at the
possibility of a strong Wodan-identification for both the name and the
character. The spearing, of course, is typical for a Wodan-sacrifice; the
more so given the streamside location, since running streams were often
thought to be holy, and there is a particular connection between streams
and both Balder and his son Fosite.

The interpretation of Wodan as the chief mover in Balder's death rests on
several strong points. Firstly, the seemingly harmless missile weapon which
suddenly becomes deadly is characteristic for Wodan-sacrifices. In Gautreks
saga, Wodan gives Starkaðr a reed to thrust into King Víkarr at the mock
sacrifice which has been arranged. When Starkaðr does this, the reed
suddenly becomes a spear and the calf-gut around Víkarr's neck becomes a
strong rope. In Styrbjarnar þáttr, after King Eiríkr has sacrificed to
Wodan, the god gives him a reed to cast over Styrbjörn's army with the
words "Óðinn has you all!" He does this, and his foes are straightaway
struck blind. Wodan is also well-known for deeming the deaths of his chosen
heroes and his children. The list of heroes whom he blessed, only to have
them slain in the end, is long and enfolds both legendary and historical
warriors: Sigmundr the Völsung and Hrólfr kraki, Haraldr Hilditönn,
Heiðrekr, Eiríkr Blood-Axe and Hákon the Good, among others. Unlike the
rest, however, Balder does not take his place in Valhöll - it is not for
the last battle that Wodan wants him.

The name Höðr simply means "warrior"; and Wodan himself, as well as Bileygr
("weak-eyed") is also called Tvíblindi ("blind in both eyes"), and
Helblindi ("Hel-blind"). The figure of the blind warrior, then, is not hard
to read as Wodan himself, and this is how many scholars, including
Turville-Petre, de Vries, and Polomé, see him. However, the Beowulf poet
knew a version of the story in which Hathcyn slays his brother Herebeald;
if Beowulf is indeed to be dated to the late seventh/early eighth century,
this would show that Höðr was a part of the tale quite early. It is also to
be noted that Wodan seldom actually slays his own victims: he is the one
who deems their death, but leaves other hands to carry out his sacrifice.

De Vries (Altgermanische Religionsgeschichte) and Polomé (Essays on
Germanic Religion) both interpret Balder's death as an initiation ritual:
and surely a youth's passage through death to come back as man and ruler,
as Balder does, is one of the basic models of initiation. This can also be
compared to Wodan's initiation on the World-Tree: he dies, sinks down, and
returns more mighty than before. Balder's initiation, however, is far
longer-lasting, and may even have greater meaning for the worlds. Because
he does not join the warriors in Walhall, despite the fact that he has been
slain with a shooting-weapon and burned according to the usual practise of
Wodan's followers, he does not die at Ragnarök. Instead, he is in Hella's
safe keeping throughout the last battle, so that when the world is born
again, he can come back and take his father's place to make the might of
the gods great again. Balder's rebirth is also Wodan's rebirth, and Wodan's
great victory: but without death, as the Death-God himself knows, there can
be no rebirth. Balder's death has sometimes been read as a myth of
fruitfulness, but he has nothing to do with the fruitfulness of the fields.
Instead, his passage shows this process on the largest of all scales: the
falling and rising again of the cosmos. The worlds weep at Balder's death,
because they know that to be the sign of their doom as well, but we know
that this shall not last forever. Kveldulf Gundarsson suggests that this
lore is truly the secret which Wodan whispered in Balder's ear: the rune
eihwaz ("yew"), "the rune of the will which survives death and
rebirth...life hidden within death as the fire is hidden within the rough,
cold bark of the yew...By this rune Baldr, hidden for a time in Hel's
protecting kingdom, is able to bring himself and Hodhr forth alive again
after Ragnarok" (Teutonic Magic, p. 103).

To Ásatrú, Balder is the seed of hope. Living, he is, like Siegfried, the
brave young hero who embodies all that is brightest within us. His
sacrifice ends the old age and brings the new to birth; as he waits in
Hella's halls for his rebirth, he reminds us that even Ragnarök cannot
destroy the might of the god/esses nor the best of what they, and we, have
wrought. In this new time, we may also think on the fact that it was
Siegfried's story which has saved more of the old lore, in poetry and
prose, than the legend of any other hero, and the same story that has
kindled the widest-reaching works of Teutonic art in this age: Siegfried's
deeds and early death have wrought much the same work for Heathendom among
the folk that Balder's early death will wreak for the god/esses, so that
the hero may well be seen as a reflection of the god.

Balder is less a god to be called on for help than one to be loved,
remembered, and toasted at symbel. There are no hints in the lore of our
forebears of him doing anything for humans: his might is not in what he
does, but in the promise of what he is and shall become. It is particularly
fitting to remember him at the four great feasts of the year: at
Midsummer's, when the Sun stands at her height and our thoughts turn to the
deeds of the bright young heroes and heroines; at Winternights, when the
world turns towards darkness and cold; at Yule, when the dead are closest
to the land of the living and only the evergreens show that life shall
spring forth again; and at Ostara, when we may most hope that the
brightness of the land's rebirth shall be echoed again in the bright
rebirth of the worlds after Ragnarök.

The plants holy to Balder are the ox-eye daisy and white flowers of the
same family, which are called "Balder's Brow"; the name is also given to
the chammomile. The linden and the mistletoe bear the obvious association
with the god, especially the latter: the "mist-twig" is the plant that
opens the way into the underworld, as it did for Balder, but it may also be
seen as the plant that will open his way back out again.

Balder's colour is white; gold may also be fitting to him.

"Siegfried's Funeral March" from Götterdämmerung is fitting music for
remembering Balder's death, the more so since Wagner quite deliberately
subsituted Siegfried for Balder in his version of the fall of the old world
and the dawning of the new.

Contributors

Stephan Grundy

Diana Paxson


Chapter XIII

Frija and Other Goddesses

"Motherly Frigga, you who miss Balder,

you who bear the world's woe in your embrace,

You who comfort Odin, you who nourish all things..."

(Grieg, Edvard, from the operatic fragment Olav Tryggvason)

Frija (Frigg, Frige, Fricka, *Frijjo)

Except for Hella, Frija was (so far as we know) the most widely known of
the early Germanic goddesses. Her name appears in Old Norse, Anglo-Saxon,
and on the continent; as chief among the goddesses, it was her name that
was used for the sole feminine weekday as a translation for "Venus" - from
which we get the modern English "Friday". She is Wodan's wife not only in
the Old Norse materials, but in the Continental Origio gentum
Langobardorum, where she likewise uses her wits to trick him into giving
victory to the menfolk of a woman who had prayed to her for help.

Frija's background before her wedding to Wodan is almost unknown. In
Lokasenna she is called "Fjörgynn's maid", but nothing is told of Fjörgynn
himself. He may be a manly twin to the womanly Fjörgyn - a name which is
given to Thonar's mother Earth. In this case, it is possible that Frija
herself, like many of the goddesses and mothers of gods, was firstly one of
the etin-kin. However, it is also possible that Fjörgynn was an earlier
Germanic god, whose borrowed name survived among the Baltic peoples as the
god Perkunas and perhaps as a Gothic *Faírguneis. The name may be related
to a word for "oak"; the Baltic Perkunas was a thunder-god, so that
Fjörgynn/*Faírguneis might well have been a forerunner of Thonar (Karl
Helm, Altgermanische Religionsgeschichte II, pp. 40-41). The problem is
made more complicated by the fact that the word usually interpreted here as
daughter, "mær", can also mean "wife" or even perhaps "lover", which
readings may even be more likely, given that Loki is using the description
to start off an attack on Frija's chastity.

Frija's own name comes from an Indo-European root meaning "beloved", and is
probably related to the modern English word "frig" through this root,
though neither is derived from the other. De Vries also mentions the
possibility that the goddess' name could derive from the Germanic frî-,
encompassing the meaning of "belonging to the sib, protected"
(Altgermanische Religionsgeschichte II, p. 305), which seems more
characteristic of the goddess.

Of all the goddesses, Frija is the most motherly. In his lament
"Sonatorrek", Egill Skalla-Grímsson uses the kenning "Frigg's descendants"
as a general term for all the dwellers in the Ases' Garth; she is the
closest thing to an All-Mother the Northern folk know. When she appears in
myth, her works are twofold: to care for and protect her children or
favourites, and to keep the bonds of society strong. In this she is often
set against Wodan, who has his own favourites and who is little concerned
with the bonds of society.

Although Frija is a goddess of social order, she is sometimes accused of
unfaithfulness to Wodan. In Gesta Danorum, Saxo accuses her of submitting
to a servant's embraces in order to get him to take the gold from the
statue of "Othinus" for her own jewelry, whereupon the god departs in a fit
of pique at the double insult to his image and his bed. Aside from Saxo's
obviously euhemeristic use of statues and servants, the basic idea -
Wodan's woman giving her body to someone of lesser status for jewelry - is
suspiciously similar to that of the Sörla þáttr account of Freyja sleeping
with the four dwarves for Brisingamen. This has sometimes been suggested to
imply that Frija and the Frowe were originally the same goddess. However,
Saxo does not seem to have known of Freyja's existence, and given his
tendency to moralize at every turn (especially about the gods) it is
unlikely that he could have left such a fruitful field as Freyja's
sexuality unploughed. Further, the reference to one deity despoiling the
shrine of another is almost certainly not authentic: whatever the original
mythological basis may have been, Saxo must have seriously altered it. It
seems likeliest that, if there is any relationship between the two myths,
Saxo simply attributed his highly diluted version of the story to the
goddess he knew as Óðinn's wife.

In Lokasenna, Loki accuses Frigg of sleeping with Óðinn's two brothers,
Vili and Vé. According to Ynglinga saga, Óðinn has been away so long that
his two brothers take his realm and Frija with it; in Saxo's Gesta Danorum,
it is told that the god was actually exiled by the other deities. In this
tale, Frija appears as the queen whose person is one and the same with
rulership: she is wedded to the god who holds the realm, whoever that may
be. Infidelity does not come into the question. Frija's association with
Venus, which has sometimes been used to support depictions of her as being
lustful and/or originally the same goddess as the Frowe, stems directly
from the Germanic translations of the weekdays, in which "Venus" was the
only goddess offered for translation; there is no reason to take it as
showing anything about Frija's character.

Frija has no direct battle-aspects - she does not, like the Frowe, go to
the battlefield to choose the slain - but she is able to ward those who do
go to fight, her blessings keeping them whole and safe. She can also bless
and ward one at the beginning of any dangerous faring, as she does for
Wodan at the beginning of Vafþrúðnismál with the words, "Heill
(holy/lucky/whole/healthy) fare you, heill come you back, / heill be you on
the way." One of her few by-names is Hlín, "Protectress". Under this name,
the linden, which was the wood used for Germanic shields, may be seen as
holy to her. Frija may also shape the turning of the battle by her spinning
from afar, and by the way in which she moves the warriors to go or stay. A
human reflection of this aspect appears in Laxdæla saga (ch. 49): the
heroine Guðrún, having brought her husband to kill her beloved Kjartan,
greets him after the deed with the words, "Great morning-work has taken
place today: I have spun twelve ells of yarn and you have slain Kjartan".
Her earthly spinning shows forth the way in which she has worked to spin
the dooms of the men around her, and perhaps (though this is not stated in
the saga) worked with the craft of her spinning to make sure the battle
went as she wished.

Frija's own dwelling-place is called "Fensalir", "Fen-Halls". This hints
that she may be one of the goddesses who was worshipped in the boggy and
marshy places of the northlands, and that gifts to her should be cast into
the waters. H.R. Ellis-Davidson mentions that "In Scandinavia, locks of
hair, gold rings, and various women's ornaments have been found at offering
places in use before the Viking Age, and also traces of flax, together with
instruments for beating it...but...such objects as cheese or bread would
leave little trace in earth and water" (Lost Beliefs of Northern Europe, p.
117). Though Frija is not one of the Wans, her might clearly overlaps with
theirs in this way.

Frija is a goddess of human fruitfulness, called upon for the getting and
bearing of children. As the careful housewife and mother, who knows whether
children can be fed and clothed with the resources at hand or not, she
might also be called upon to lend her spiritual help to ensure the success
of earthly means of fertility control and family planning. Frija is never
spoken of as making the fields fruitful - her realm is within the walls,
the realm of the home and hearth and all those who dwell there. Her only
tie to agricultural fruitfulness comes through her Continental shape as
Perchte/Holda/Fru Gode, leader of the Wild Hunt (together with Wodan).
Although Frija is not a goddess of riches in general, those who want help
in buying a house, making home repairs, or taking care of their families
would likely do well to call upon her.

Frija's magic is that of spinning and weaving, which were deeply important
to the Northern folk; and it is through this craft that her deeper ways may
most easily be learned. The woman's spindle was the weapon matching the
man's sword, for it was a tool of great might with which the wise spinner
could wreak long-lasting weal or woe, and the Spindle is as much Frija's
sign as the Hammer is Thonar's or the spear Wodan's.

The Eddas do not mention Frigg as a spinner, but the Swedish name
"Friggerock", Frigg's Spindle (or Distaff), for the constellation which
southerners named "Orion's Belt", shows very clearly that spinning was one
of this goddess' greatest works. In this connection, de Vries also mentions
the Norwegian belief that chains may not be cut through on a Friday
("Frigg's Day") because this will make the weaving unsuccessful
(Altgermanische Religionsgeschichte II, p. 304). Frigg's working as spinner
and weaver ties in with her character as the one who "knows all ørlög /
though she says it not herself" (Lokasenna 30). In this way, her spinning
is very like that of the Norns.

In German folklore, spinning is one of the greatest border-deeds - a deed
of might which draws the sight of the great holy ones. This is especially
the case in regards to the southern German goddess Perchte or Berchte ("the
Bright One"), who, as spoken of below, is likely to be Frija herself. This
goddess makes sure that spinners work hard during the year, but leave off
on the eve of the Yule-season's twelfth day. In Teutonic Mythology (I,
274-275) Grimm quotes Börner's Folktales of the Orlagau for several
instances in which Perchta has been offended and gives the offenders empty
reels to fill in an hour's time. Interestingly, she is easily satisfied -
in one case, with tow-wrapped reels over which a few lengths of thread have
been spun; in a second, with a few rounds spun on each reel and cast into
the brook that ran past the house. What matters most here is clearly the
holy act of spinning as a gift to the goddess, which restores the frith
between herself and humans. As with Frigg in Norse mythology, the German
spinning goddess appears as the enforcer of the social norms which also
strengthen the oneness of the Middle-Garth with the other realms of being:
the needful work of the year and the needful rest and rejoicing of the
Weihnachten (German "Holy Nights" are alike in worth, and the one who
flouts either gains the wrath of the goddess. The German Holda is said to
be the giver of flax to humans, who taught us the crafts of spinning and
weaving. Grimm tells us that, "Industrious maids she presents with
spindles, and spins their reels full for them over night; a slothful
spinner's distaff she sets on fire, or soils it...When she enters the land
at Christmas, all the distaffs are well stocked, and left standing for her;
by Carnival, when she turns homeward, all spinning must be finished off,
and the staffs are now kept out of her sight" (Teutonic Mythology, I,
269-70).

As the spinner, Frija appears in Austria under the thinly Christianized
guise of "St. Lucy" or Spillelutsche, "Spindle-Lucia", who, like Perchte,
punishes those who have not spun during the year or have spun on her chosen
feast-days. This "santeria"-identification of Frija and Lucy appears also
to have been applied in Denmark, where St. Lucy's Night (December 13) was
both a night of oracles and the night on which the year's spinning should
cease (Liutman, Traditionswanderungen Euphrat-Rhein II, 652-57). In Sweden,
the prettiest girl of the house traditionally appeared as "Lussi" or the
"Lussi-Bride" between 1 and 4 AM on Lucy Day. The chosen maid, dressed in
white with a red scarf and a crown decorated with crow-berries and nine
burning candles, would walk among the men to wake them up with a
life-bringing drink of gløgg (spirits with herbs, honey, syrup, or sugar,
sometimes set on fire); or she might bring that very holy Scandinavian
drink of new times - coffee - and pastries (Feilberg, Jul I, p. 169). As
Ostara brings light and life to the outside world at her feast, the bringer
of light and life to the household in the depths of winter is likeliest to
be Frija, the keeper of the home and the fires of the hearth.

A figure which may be Frija the Spinner also appears on several bracteates:
on the bracteate from Oberweschen, she holds a full-wound drop-spindle; on
the bracteates from Welschingen and Gudme II, she holds something that may
be a distaff.

As both spinner and mother, Frija may also be seen as the queen of that
host of lesser "norns", or idises, who set the ørlög of a child at birth.
Though Freyja's name "Vanadís" ("Idis of the Wans") has led many to think
of her as the chief of the idises, it seems more likely that this is
Frija's role, as these womanly ghosts are basically motherly wights and
work for their children in the ways that are most usual for Frija (see
"Idises").

German folklore does not mention Frija, but the names Perchte/Berchte and
Holda ("the Gracious One") sound suspiciously like titles given to the
goddess to keep from speaking her name - either from christian suppression
or from fear of drawing the attention of her wilder side. "Holda" is
especially likely to be a title, as both "holde" and "unholde" were used in
Middle High German as generic terms for, respectively, well- and
ill-meaning spirits. These figures of German folklore have much in common
with the Frija we know from Norse myths. Their social function and role as
spinners has already been spoken of. Like Frija, they have watery homes:
the German Holda is particularly said to dwell in wells or lakes, and
newborn babies are supposed to be fetched out of "dame Holle's pond". Both
Holda and Berchte make their rounds with the ghosts of unborn or young
children in their train, which also fits in well with Frija's role as the
Northern mother-goddess.

The German folklore may also cast some light on sides of Frija that have
not survived in Norse myth - most particularly, her place in the Wild Hunt.
On the Continent, the Hunt is not only led by Wodan or Wod, but by Holda,
Perchte, or "Frau Gode" (Mrs. Wode) - Wodan's wife. Here the goddess
appears in her wildest shape, swinging her whip as the folk run masked and
screaming through the fields with the ghosts running among them. The ritual
elements of the Wild Hunt/Perchtenlauf are spoken of under "Yule". For now,
it is enough to say that here, we may also see Frija, not only as Wodan's
quiet spouse and homemaker, but also as his female counterpart in all the
wild rites of the Yule season, when all the year's spinning is done and she
has put off her apron and unbound the ties of ordinary life for the
appointed time.

All workings having to do with home and hearth fall under Frija's rule. The
most ordinary tasks such as cooking and cleaning are holy to her, and a
well-made meal or a well-scrubbed kitchen are sure to bring her blessing.
She is also the one who brings frith and joy within the wedding: Friday,
though it is thought unlucky for most things in Germanic folklore (perhaps
because Christianity was particularly hostile towards goddesses?) was still
thought the best of days for a marriage. Indeed, we see that even when
Frija strives against Wodan, it is not by force that she wins her will, but
by subtle workings.

The birch is the tree which Ásatrúar most associate with Frija. In Northern
folklore, this tree is seen as a fair white maiden for reasons which should
be clear. It is used for cleansing both body and soul, especially in the
sauna. In Leaves of Yggdrasil, Freya Aswynn mentions that in Holland,
naughty children got birch branches from "St. Nick" (who goes about in a
big cloak with a staff and a wide hat in that country); and birch branches
were also placed above the door of a newly-wed-couple's house to bless them
with fruitfulness (pp. 68-69). Dianne Ross suggests that in our times,
runic inscriptions invoking the Birch Goddess could be carved into limbs
and the limbs tied to the child's crib or stick horse.

Other trees which may be associated with Frija are linden ("basswood" in
America), as told above, and beech, because its name "book-tree" links it
with the rune perthro, the well of Wyrd, and Frija's role as a seeress. Her
herbs are motherwort, mugwort, yarrow, and all those herbs which work on
the female system and organs. Flax has already been spoken of; we will mark
that linseed oil is often applied to runic talismans after the runes have
been carved and reddened, suggesting, again, the relationship between Wodan
and Frija. In Mecklenburg, on Woden's Day (Wednesday), all work in flax or
having to do with sewing or linseed was avoided, lest Woden's horse trample
it down!

Although there is no Norse record of any animals of Frija, the goose is
most associated with her in modern times. Dianne Ross has argued
convincingly for seeing the traditional "Mother Goose" as the last
reflection of Frija. The geese also had a special relationship with the
frowe of the hall: in "Sigurðarkviða hin skamma", it is told how Guðrún's
distress over Sigurðr's death was mirrored by the rattling of her cups in
the cupboards and the crying out of her geese. Wagner has Frija's wain
drawn by sheep or rams (Die Walküre), and suggests, "Sacrifice sheep for
Fricka, so that she will give a good marriage" (Götterdämmerung). Since the
sheep is the source of the spinner's wool, it seems reasonable to see it as
tied to Frija's might in much the same way as flax is. The cow, the source
of milk and life from early days, might also be associated with Frija. Milk
is surely the drink most traditionally given to the little wights of the
home, and in modern times, it has been found that Frija herself may be
toasted and blessed with milk just as well as with alcohol (unlike her
husband, say...).

Colours associated with Frija in Ásatrú practise today are light blue and
white. Several folk have felt in modern times (independently of one
another) that her favourite jewels are made of silver and polished rock
crystal, a combination of which many women of the Migration and Viking Ages
were certainly fond. Many Germanic women of the Migration Age also went
about with a sphere of silver-framed rock crystal dangling from the front
of their belts; the center of that fashion seems to have been the
Rhineland, though they are common in Alamannia and have been found as far
south as the Lombardic area of Northern Italy and eastward to Hungary.
These crystal balls were often worn cradled in the bowl of a (often
perforated) silver spoon (Owen-Crocker, Dress in Anglo-Saxon England, p.
58). It is generally accepted that they were amulets of some sort, perhaps
used for scrying; the specific identification of them with Frija is based
on modern intuition, extrapolation from her role as a seeress, and the fact
that these amulets were also a particular mark of womanly status.

Although there is no historical evidence for it, those who wish a ritual
gesture to use as a sign for Frija (as the walknot is traced for Wodan, the
Hammer for Thonar, or the sun-wheel for the Wans) might use a spiral to
symbolize the turning and winding of the spindle.

Together with Frija, there are the many goddesses whom Snorri lists in the
Prose Edda. Some seem to be handmaidens or hypostases of Frigg; others
appear independently. Very little is known about these goddesses except the
names which Snorri gives us; however, more and more work is being done with
them now to rewin the lore which is lost forever from the sources our
forebears left us. This would not be acceptable in academic or re-enactment
circles, but our troth is not a matter of pure historical recreation: it is
a living and growing religion.

Sága

Sága is mentioned in Grímnismál 7 as having one of the great halls in
God-Home, Sökkvabekkr ("Sunken Benches"), where "cold waves ripple above;
there Óðinn and Sága drink through all days, glad, out of golden cups".
This hall has often been compared to Frija's Fen-halls - especially since
Fensalir is not mentioned in the Grímnismál list - and Sága herself taken
as another side of Frigg. She has her own personality, however. Her name is
not the same word as the Icelandic "saga", but it is closely related; she
is clearly the goddess of story-telling, who remembers old tales. It is
meaningfull that her hall is underwater: the streams of the Well of Mímir
must flow around it.

There are some who think that Sága is likely to be the patron goddess of
Iceland, where all the songs and stories of Scandinavia were written down
and kept safe through the many years to our time. It is sure that she has
been kinder to Iceland than any other deity has been in the last few
centuries; her gifts have been their greatest comfort and their greatest
pride.

Those who wish help in writing stories should call on Sága and Wodan
together, filling two golden cups with mead and sipping from one in one
deity's name while leaving the other cup for the other.

Eir

Eir (also Iær, Aer) is mentioned once by Snorri and appears once in
Svipdagsmál. Snorri tells us that she is "the best of healers"; in
Svipdagsmál, she is one of the maidens on a mountain called "Lyfja" ("to
heal through magic" - de Vries,Wörterbuch, p. 369 ), of which it is said
that it "has long been a pleasure for the sick and wounded; every woman
will become whole if she climbs it, though she has a grievous illness". The
other women also have names suggesting works of weal, such as "Hlíf"
("Protection"), "Blíð" ("Blithe"), and Fríð ("beautiful, peaceful") and it
is said of them that they offer help to those who sacrifice to them.

According to de Vries (Wörterbuch, p. 97), Eir's name is originally derived
from words meaning "honour" or "worship" (related to modern German Ehre);
it is lso seen as the Old Norse noun eir, "graciousness - mildness - help".
Related to it is the verb eira, "to care for; to help or please". There is
also a word eir meaning "copper"; though this word is not etymologically
related to the goddess-name, the healing might of copper rings and
bracelets has long been known in folk-medicine, so that this metal might
well be thought of as particularly hers.

More and more folk are becoming interested in Eir, and surely her healing
might is much needed in the world today. Eir is clearly the particular
patron of all those who work with any form of health-care or healing, but
anyone who needs healing should call on her. KveldúlfR Gundarsson's
personal opinion is that Eir is likely to be a goddess who prefers the
gentler and slower "alternative" methods of healing, such as aromatherapy,
herbalism, and massage, together with emotional counselling and balancing;
that her way of healing only uses the more drastic medical means such as
surgery and antibiotic treatments in acute cases when the condition is too
dangerous or extreme for the patient to heal safely without intervention,
and even then, the greatest care is given to such things as nutrition and
the patient's spiritual and emotional state. Gefjon mentions that Eir is by
no means a foe of technology when it is rightly applied - all healing tools
belong to her - but her focus is on prevention more than cure, care and
tending to encourage natural healing rather than unnecessary drastic
intervention (as opposed to the necessary sort, of which she is also the
patron).

As much of the healing lore of our forebears was magical, we may well guess
that Eir is a patroness of such magic - that her charms work on the soul
and mind as well as the body, to bring about truly holistic healing. As a
goddess who is both a spiritual and a physical healer, Eir is especially
good to call on for those who need help in dealing with addictions.

Eir must also have been thought of as something of a shaman, since the
Anglo-Saxon charm spells show us that many sicknesses were considered to be
the workings of alfs, dwarves, witches, or even the Ases (Storms,
Anglo-Saxon Magic); in fact, the word "elf-shot" is known in all the
Germanic languages, and Hexenschuss, "witch-shot", is still used in rural
Bavaria to describe serious pains in the bones and joints. The healer was
one who knew not only the plants to help with such a sickness, but the way
to magically prepare them and apply them so as to drive out the evil wights
or the "shots" they had left in the patient's body - and who was able to
deal with health-threatening wights in the soul-world as well as working in
the Middle-Garth.

Gefjon (craftswoman of Gefjon's Arðr) adds, from her own work with Eir and
her understanding of the goddess, that Eir does not see death as a great
foe, nor life at all cost as a prize. She is a goddess of natural
processes, which include the loosing given by death when the due time
comes. Her care is less for length of life than for its quality.

The priestess Siegróa Lyfjasgyðja has worked with Eir (using the altered
spelling Iær) and gotten much lore from her through trance and inspiration.
Such lore must stand on its own worth; some may choose to heed it and some
may not. It is certainly the only way left to find out more than the small
scatterings which have survived from the time of our forebears, but of
course, care must be taken to be sure that the myth-making or -discovering
of today does not cloud our view of that which we know from the past. It
must also be remembered that the god/esses have many aspects, and may
appear in one way to one person and a different way to another. Both
visions and understandings are equally true, and neither stands as the
total definition of the deity.

According to Siegróa's personal revelations, Iær is an elder goddess, born
from the ninth teat of the cow Auðumla, and the first of midwives who
helped at the birth of the Æsir. She was once in conflict with the male
gods, a conflict resolved by the works of Sif; she is now especially
championed by Thonar and Höðr (on whom she has bestowed personal favours.
As a Goddess of Healing, she cannot take revenge or become involved in
bloodshed. To obtain the protection she could not afford Herself, she took
refuge with Frigga and her women and lent Frigga her energies in Healing
and wortcunning. She may be called upon when there is need, for she will
never stint her aid to any, be they thrall or thane, Æsir or Overlord; and
asks the same of her priestesses. Siegróa says that Iær wishes her
priestesses to be chaste to aid the flow of the healing energies, and wants
them to abstain from the flesh of animals, milk, alcohol, and fruit when
they call upon her; also to be cleansed with smoke and sauna. Her
healing-lore, as she has shown it forth, is especially concerned with the
use of runes and herbs. Iær's holy colour is green; her runes are Berkano,
Laguz, and Uruz, and her priestesses also wear Kenaz as light-bearers. Cows
are especially holy to her, as is the raven; she seems also to have some
connection with the birch-tree. Siegróa sees the goddess herself as being
dressed in a dalmatic of white brocade, adorned with ropes of pearls and
sometimes amber. Gefjon also sees green and white as her colours.

Both Gefjon and Siegróa perceive Eir as being somewhat slow to speak,
though for different reasons. Certainly she seems to be a goddess who has
little patience with needless jabber, who communicates only when she has
something important to say - who, like Frija, watches in silent wisdom much
of the time.

The runes which Gefjon feels to be closely tied with Eir are Laguz and
Jera.

Gefjon

Gefjon is less well-known than Frija or the Frowe, but better-known than
most of the goddesses. Snorri opens the "Gylfaginning" section of the Prose
Edda with the story of how the Swedish king Gylfi rewarded a wandering
woman who had entertained him with as much land as four oxen could plough
in a day and a night. The woman, however, was the goddess Gefjon. From the
north in Etin-Home, she brought four oxen who were the sons of herself and
an etin, and set them before the plough, ploughing out the ring of land
which is now the island Zealand. This tale dates back at least to the early
part of the Viking Age, as Snorri quotes a fragment of it one of the first
known skaldic poets, Bragi inn gamli. Gefjon is the patroness of Zealand,
and near the statue of the Little Mermaid in Copenhagen stands a huge
fountain which shows the goddess whipping her four oxen onward, with water
frothing around their feet and great bronze serpents writhing before them.
In the version of the story which Snorri tells in Ynglinga saga, he adds
that after this, Gefjon married Óðinn's son Skjöldr and they dwelt at
Lejre, which is the ancestral seat of the kings of Denmark. Here, we may
perhaps see the idea that the king is wedded to the goddess of the land -
though Skjöldr himself (the same figure who is called Scyld Scefing in
Beowulf) is as much an ancestor-god as a king. In Lokasenna 20, Loki also
accuses Gefjon of laying her limbs over "the white youth who gave (her) a
piece of jewelry".

Despite all this, Snorri also tells us that Gefjon "is a maiden and is
attended by those who die maidens". The word maiden (ON mær) does not
necessarily mean a virgin, but rather a young woman (mær can also mean
"daughter" or even "wife"); there is no evidence that the Norse placed
special value on virginity. Gefjon is clearly the goddess of young and shy
women, however: in the Völsa þattr section of Óláfs saga hins helga, the
young farmer's daughter, when she must take up the dried horse phallus
Völsi, swears that "by Gefjon and the other goddess, I take the ruddy
phallus because I must". It may seem strange to think of a goddess of
fruitfulness as also the goddess of unmarried women; but a woman of the age
between puberty and marriage embodies all the potential fruitfulness of
which Gefjon, as a land-goddess and plough-goddess, is the warder and
tender. It seems likely that she is the goddess who sees to it that women
are not wedded before they are ready to be wives and mothers, or involved
with men against their will; she is particularly the warder of teenaged
maidens through all the difficulties young women face. She must also have
been seen as a virgin herself at times; Mundal points out that "In
translations of Latin legends the name Gefjun is rather consistently used
to translate the name of the Roman goddess Diana" and suggests that she was
much more important, at least in the last phase of paganism, than the
literary sources seem to show ("Gods and Goddesses with Reference to the
Female Divinities", p. 309).

Gefjon is also a seeress: in Lokasenna 21, Óðinn says of her that "I know
that she knows all ancient ørlögs just as well as I do".

The name Gefjon means "the giver", and is very like one of Freyja's heiti,
Gefn. As a plough-goddess, she is surely a goddess of fruitfulness;
Turville-Petre and Ellis-Davidson both compare her ploughing to the
Anglo-Saxon plough-charm which begins "Erce, Erce, Erce, mother of Earth".
Today, she is sometimes thought to embody the might of woman as the first
source of food and life, perhaps being the Norse reflection of the
archetype which the Celts expressed as the ever-full cauldron of food and
drink. Although there is no similar cauldron in Germanic myth (with the
possible exception of the one in Valhöll where the flesh of the
ever-regenerating boar is seethed every day for the einherjar), the name
Ketill (manly)/Katla (womanly), "kettle" or "cauldron", was very common
among the Norse, and was probably of magico-religious origin: the manner of
cooking sacrifices at the holy feasts was always by seething in a cauldron
(see "Things and their Meanings"). The image of the ever-full cauldron
might perhaps also be read from the name of Fulla (below).

Fulla

According to Snorri, Fulla "is a maiden and fares loose-haired and with a
gold band around her head; she bears Frigg's casket and looks after her
shoes and stockings and knows secret rede with her." In its list of
magically-skilled god/esses, the Zweite Merseburger Zauberspruch tells us,
"then chanted Frija and Fulla her sister"; it seems that Fulla held a
higher place in earlier knowledge than with Snorri. Snorri also mentions
particularly, however, that the gifts Baldr's wife Nanna sent to the Ases'
Garth from Hel included a linen robe and many gifts for Frija, and
finger-gold for Fulla", so Fulla's special place beside Frija had not been
wholly forgotten.

Her name, just as it seems, means "full", suggesting that she is a goddess
of riches and fruitfulness. It can also be read as stemming from the Old
Norse word for "cup" (full), hinting that she may be the bearer of a cup or
cauldron. As the bearer of Frija's casket, she is responsible for the
jewels of the other goddess - and, if the life of the god/esses mirrored
human norms, as is thought likely, she would also be responsible for the
gold and blessings which Frija wishes to give.

Frija's other women

Of the rest of the goddesses listed by Snorri, we know nothing except what
he tells us. Sjöfn "greatly cares to turn the thoughts of humans to love,
of men and maids; from her name affection is called sjafni...Lofn, she is
so mild and good to call on, that she gets leave from All-Father or Frigg
for folk to come together, women and men, although it is banned or denied.
Vár, she listens to the oaths of humans and private speech which is
contracted between women and men; for this reason these speeches are called
"varar"; she also revenges those which are broken...Vör, she is both wise
and enquiring, so that no part may be hidden from her; there is a saying,
that a woman becomes aware (vör) of something, when she learns of
it....Syn, she keeps the doors of the hall, and locks them before those who
should not go in, and she is set as a defender at the Thing, before those
speeches which someone wants to prove untrue. For this reason there is that
saying, that a denial (syn) is set before that which someone wishes to say
no to...Hlin, she is set to protect those humans who Frigg will save from
certain dangers; for that reason there is a saying, that whoever saves
himself finds a refuge (hleinir)...Snotra, she is wise and prudent; and
from her whoever is wise, woman or man, is called snotr...Gná, Frigg sends
her through various worlds on her errands. She has a horse, which runs over
air and water, which hight Hófvarpnir (Hoof-Tosser). From Gná's name it is
said, that that towers (gnæfi) which fares high up."

In modern times, Syn is seen as dressed in gray, with either a broom or a
sword; for clear reasons, women often call on her as a warder in magical
workings and for protecting their homes.

Hlin is given as a name for Frija herself in Völuspá, and is clearly an
aspect of the goddess.

Snotra is now thought to be especially concerned with manners and proper
behavior, and is good to call on when there is a chance that a feast might
get too rowdy.

Gná, the ærial messenger, is the goddess to call on to make sure that
important items sent by airmail get to their destination on time.

Iðunn

Iðunn is well known as the keeper of the apples of youth, which she feeds
to the god/esses to keep them young and strong. The only tale of her is the
one recounted in the skaldic poem Haustlöng (ca. 900) and the Prose Edda.
To redeem himself from the clutches of the etin Thjazi (father of Skaði -
see "Skaði, Gerðr, and other Etin-Brides"), Loki lures her out of the Ases'
Garth and Thjazi, in eagle-shape, swoops down and snatches her. Without
her, the god/esses quickly begin to fade; but they hold a meeting and find
out that Iðunn was last seen with Loki, from whom they eventually get the
truth. Loki then borrows the Frowe's falcon-coat and goes to find Iðunn,
changing the goddess and her apples into a nut and flying away with them.
Thjazi, as an eagle, pursues him, buffeting Loki with the wind from his
wings. When Loki lands in the Ases' Garth, the other gods set a fire on the
walls which singes Thjazi's wings and forces him to earth so that he can be
killed.

Iðunn is clearly the embodiment of the might of new life, that which keeps
the worlds strong and fruitful - a trait she shares with the other
goddesses desired by etin-men, the Frowe and Sif. Her very name either
means "the renewing one" or "the active one" (de Vries, Wörterbuch p. 283);
a related word, "iðiagroenn" (renewed-green), is used for the new-born
Earth after Ragnarök (Völuspá 59). Her tale is close in many ways to the
"Spring Goddess" model of Gerðr, Menglöð, and Sigrdrífa: the shining hero
must pass into Etin-home, defy or slay an etin, and cross a ring of fire to
claim the maid. Some may raise their eyebrows at the idea of Loki as
"shining hero", but not only is he likely to be a fire-being, but he
actually seems to symbolically take Balder's place in the following tale of
Thjazi's daughter Skaði. Turville-Petre also compares Loki's theft of Iðunn
to Óðinn's theft of the mead of poetry (Myth and Religion, p. 187).

Both apples and nuts are signs, not merely of fruitfulness, but
specifically of life springing forth again from death: their meaning of is
spoken of more fully in the chapter "Things and Meanings".

Today, Iðunn is called on specifially as the goddess whose might brings the
elder Troth forth "iðiagroenn"; for this reason, a form of her name is used
for the Ring of Troth's official magazine, Idunna.

Colours associated with Iðunn are gold and light green.

Sif

Sif is the wife of Thonar, the mother of Wulþur (by an unknown father) and
Trude. Snorri mentions in his prologue to his Edda that her parents are not
known, but she is a prophetess. This probably comes from his false
etymology of "Sif" as being derived from the Classical "Sibyl", but it is
not unlikely that she, like other goddesses such as Frija and Gefjon, may
also be a seeress.

Sif is best known for her long gold hair, around which the one myth in
which she appears - Loki's cropping of it and the forging of the treasures
of the gods - centers. It is often thought that her golden hair is the
embodiment of the fields of grain, which, when ripe, look very much like
long golden hair rippling in the breeze; in England, it used to be thought
that the summer lightning was needed for the crops to ripen, which speaks
of the relationship between Sif and Thonar.

It is worth marking that in saga descriptions of women as attractive, the
one physical feature which seems to define beauty is the woman's hair (most
ideally, long, straight, golden hair such as Sif's) - other bodily
characteristics are almost never mentioned. For instance Helga in fögr (the
fair) is described with many superlatives as the fairest woman of Iceland,
but the only thing said about her actual looks is that her hair was so long
that she could completely wrap herself in it and was as fair as gold
(Gunnlaugs saga ormstungu, ch. 4). Aside from that, descriptions of a
saga-woman's physical beauty were wholly confined to her clothing (Jochens,
Jenny, "Before the Male Gaze: the Absence of the Female Body in Old
Norse"). Sif, with her gold hair, can thus be seen as the fairest of the
goddesses and the very embodiment of the Norse ideal of female
attractiveness. More than this, we know that hair was a very meaningful
sign of both life-force and holiness among the Germanic peoples: for a man,
it was particularly the emblem of a king, priest, or one dedicated to the
god/esses; for a woman, it was the very symbol of her being. When Loki
crops Sif's hair, it is not only an unmatched insult, it is an attack
against the life-force of the Ases' Garth similar to the theft of Iðunn or
the offering of Freyja in marriage to an etin: Sif's hair, Iðunn's apples,
and the Frowe's womb are all embodiments of the same might. It may be
significant that the etin Hrungnir, when boasting in the halls of the gods,
threatens to carry away Freyja and Sif for himself; it is these goddesses
(and perhaps Sif's daughter Trude, as spoken of below) that draw the
interest of the manly wights of the Outgarth. Loki also expresses a certain
claim to Sif in Lokasenna, saying that he has slept with her (and, again,
no one can tell him that he is simply lying); it is not impossible that his
cropping of her hair could have been a way of boasting of this deed.

It has also been suggested that Loki's deed could, on a natural level, be
seen in the practice of slash-and-burn agriculture, and there may be some
truth in this, though we must remember that it is this world which mirrors
the worlds of the gods, not their world which is explained simply by
happenings in ours.

The rowan is probably Sif's tree: as mentioned in "Thonar", we know that
the Lappish version of the thunder-god, Hora galles or "Þórr Karl", had a
wife named "Rowan", to whom the tree's red berries were holy, and that Þórr
clung to this tree against the flood of Geirröðr's daughter. Turville-Petre
concludes from this that, "Probably the wife of Thór was once conceived in
the form of a rowan, to which the god clung", also making reference to the
special reverence given to this tree from the settlement of Iceland to the
present day (Myth and Religion, p. 98). We may also note that the rowan is
first crowned with white - "fair" blossoms, then loses them, but in their
stead gets bright red berries; since, as we will remember, the Germanic
people often spoke of gold as being "red", this could likewise be seen as
showing the cropping and replacement of Sif's hair. If Sif is indeed the
rowan-goddess, this sheds a little more light on her relationship with
Thonar and the way in which the two of them work together. The rowan is
first and foremost a tree of warding against all ill-willing magic and
wights of the Outgarth: next to the hallowing and battle-might of Thonar's
Hammer, we thus have the hallowing and magical might of Sif's rowan. The
two of them can be called on together as warders against all ill.

Sif is never seen as a warrior, nor are any weapons ever attributed to her,
despite the image put out by a certain popular comic-book.

Her name is related very closely to the word "sib", the kin-group. This
suggests that she is very much a deity of the clan and warder of the home
and family, just as her husband is.

Laurel Olson, who works closely with Sif, mentions that "She understands
grief and loss from personal experience and is understanding in the
extreme. She is (physical plane) wealth and prosperity, more so, I think,
than Freya. She says she sleeps in winter beneath a grey and white cloak
Frigga wove of rams' wool. She loves all things gold or golden coloured.
She favours spring green, sky blue, berry red, autumnal gold (as opposed to
yellow), and white.

As offerings she likes cooked barley with honey and butter, fresh berries
or berry strudel, and spring flowers. She also likes gold jewelry and amber
anything."

Trude (Þrúðr)

Trude is the daughter of Thonar and Sif. Her name means "Strength". She is
listed among the walkurjas who bear ale in Walhall in Grímnismál 36; her
name is also used in walkurja-type kennings, suggesting a battle-role, and
was a very common second element in Germanic women's personal names such as
Gertrude/Geirþrúðr.

Like the Frowe, Sif, and Iðunn, Trude is also desired by sundry wights of
the Outgarth or underworld. In Alvíssmál, the dwarf Alvíss (All-Wise) has
come up to the Ases' Garth in hopes of claiming her as his bride, and in
Bragi's Ragnarsdrápa (early 9th century), the giant Hrungnir is called
"thief of Þrúðr", which suggests that there may have been a different story
leading up to the battle between Þórr and Hrungnir than the one Snorri
tells. In Haustlöng, Thjóðólfr or Hvíni tells of the battle, but not its
prelude; there are no older sources for Snorri's version, making it quite
possible that the duel could have been motivated by the abduction of Þórr's
daughter, rather than simply by the etin becoming drunk and disorderly in
Ásgarðr. Snorri does in fact have Hrungnir threatening to carry off Freyja
and Sif, but, out of ignorance or editorial policy, does not mention the
theft of Þrúðr.

This role suggests that she, like the other goddesses who draw the desire
of etins, is one of the female embodiments of the life-force of the cosmos.
As she is the grand-daughter of Earth, daughter of Sif and Thonar, this is
hardly to be wondered at. Being the daughter of one of the most beautiful
of the goddesses, as well as the strongest of the gods, she must be both
very fair and very mighty. Today, she is sometimes thought of as having
lovely hair of a bright reddish-gold colour.

She and her two brothers Móði and Magni may also be seen as the bearers of
Thonar's great gifts to humans: Strength, Bravery, and Main-Strength.

From his own workings and research, Larsanthony K. Agnarsson offers another
perspective on this goddess, one which fits well with her role as daughter
of Thonar and Sif:

Thruð is an obscure goddess and little is known about her other than (that)
she is the daughter of Þórr and Sif. However, we in Skergard give her much
more credit than that.

Thruð is one of the more prominent of the Asynjur in this modern day and
age. She is the youngest goddess among the Asynjur.

The young gods and goddesses are very important in our modern world. Since
the gods have evolved as we have, the youngest of them are more prominent
in this day and age. This does not mean that the elder gods are fading from
importance. What this does mean, however, is that the younger gods and
goddesses are just as involved in our lives as their parents, if not more
so.

As Sif represents the "Gatherer of Grains", Thruð represents the work
behind sowing the fields and the labors of organized agriculture.

Before the coming of Thruð, mankind simply gathered berries and nuts to
survive, ignorant of sowing fields, planting crops, or the inequity of
modern agriculture.

As humanity continued to evolve, Sif taught Thruð the aspects of gathering
nuts and berries, and from her grandmother Fjorgynn (Jord) she learned the
ways of the soil. When Thruð came of age, she taught humans the importance
of working with the Earth, that is, agriculture. She also taught mankind
how to use what they grow, and how to grind grain to make flour for baking
bread. Thus, Thruð is associated with the hearth, because she spends many
hours there cooking, baking, and keeping the fire. As the fire-keeper and
bread-baker, her colour is orange (not to mention that Red and Yellow make
Orange; i.e. Þórr and Sif combined). What time not spent cooking, she
spends in the fields, sorting the Earth from the stones and rocks.

Thruð is often seen as a large, strong woman whose hair is pulled back, but
nevertheless messy. Her clothes are generally torn and dirty; as a
labouring woman, she is too busy to notice her conditions.

Because of her strength, she is likened to a giantess. Rocks and stones
that are sacred to her are the ones turned over with the plow.

Other colours which have been associated with Trude are bright red and
gold.

This goddess also appears as one of the main characters in a charming work
of Heathen educational fiction (early teenage-level, Danish language),
Lars-Henrik Olsen's Erik Menneskesøn.

Hella (Hel, Hell, Hölle, Halja, *Haljon)

This goddess was known to all the Germanic peoples, including the Goths: a
Gothic word for "witch" was haljoruna - Hella-runester. She must have been
the goddess of the underworld from a very early time, as her name is given
to that land in all the Germanic tongues. The name itself stems from a root
meaning "to hide": she is the concealer. Simek compares the description of
the road to Hel as "down and to the north" to the burial mounds of European
megalithic culture, which "always have their entrances to the south and the
burial chamber to the north...also the north-south orientation is
predominant in Bronze Age ship settings and Vendel and Viking Age ship
graves". He strengthens his identification of Hel with these family cairns
by pointing out that the Old Irish cognate to her name is cuile, "cellar",
which is a reasonable development from the mound-covered rock-chamber
(Dictionary, pp. 137-38).

Hella is a rather ambiguous figure in the Norse pantheon: as ruler of the
Underworld, she has the status of a Goddess and queen; as Loki's daughter,
sister of the Wolf Fenrir and the Middle-Garth's Wyrm, she appears as a
demonic figure. The belief in Hella as ruler of the underworld is likely
very archaic; the belief that she is part of Loki's monstrous family goes
back at least to the ninth century, appearing in the skaldic poem
Ynglingatal, where it says "I tell no secret, Gná-of-Glitnir (the
horse-goddess - Glitnir, "glistening", is listed as a horse-heiti, and one
goddess' name is often subsituted for another in kennings) has Dyggvi's
corpse for her delight, for the horse-idis of the Wolf and Narvi chose the
king, and Loki's daughter has the ruler of the folk of Yngvi as her
plaything". Although it has been suggested that Hella as a person is late
and perhaps even post-heathen (Simek, Dictionary, p. 138), her appearance
in this poem makes it clear that she was firmly established as a
free-standing personality in the Viking Age. It may be particularly noted
that it is implied in Ynglingatal that the dead man will receive the
personal favours of Hella, a theme which also shows up in Saxo's version of
the Balder-story, where Balder dreams of the embraces of "Persephone"
(Hella). Grimm, citing the great many Hella-based place-names of
continental Germany, as well as her appearance as "Mother Hölle" in German
folklore, is of the opinion that she may well have preceded many of the
other deities, and perhaps even that the name and idea of the realm
devolved from the goddess herself. As a matter of fact, the older the
versions of the Germanic Goddess of Death are, the less "hellish" and more
godlike she appears.

The Goddess Hel is sometimes represented as a personification of Death,
with the Wolf and Serpent as Pain and Sin, respectively. This is another
pretty mediæval (or even Victorian) sentiment - surely death, a natural
part of the cycle of life, is not equivalent to sin (in the christian sense
- in the original sense, as Gert McQueen has pointed out, "sin" meant only
"being"). This is part of the need felt by some for all three of Loki's
children to represent awful monsters of some sort. But Hel always stands
out from the other two. Instead of being bound or imprisoned, Hel is given
rule over her own realm. In the Baldr story, she stands as an equal with
the Æsir, refusing to give in to their demands unless on her own terms. She
is very possibly an older concept, that of the Death Goddess, which was
stuck into a later myth-cycle in a convenient place, as happens to so many
other deities. Death is too ancient and primal a concept to be such a
late-comer into a pantheon.

As a goddess of death, Hel is not only the receiver of the dead, sometimes
she comes herself to claim them. This is spoken of in the quote from
Ynglingatal (above). During the Black Plague, which ravaged Norway and
other parts of Scandinavia to an even greater degree than the rest of
Western Europe, Hel was said to travel the countryside with a broom and a
rake. In villages where some survived, she was said to have used the rake;
if a whole community perished, she had used her broom.

However, generally she is simply the keeper of the souls of the departed,
welcoming them into her house, which was viewed as a sort of inn for the
dead, and holding them with an inexorable grip, on no account giving up
anyone once she had them. This idea of the Death Goddess being unpitying
and immovable, never giving back one she has taken, is certainly apparent
in Hel's refusal to let Baldr go. The giantess Þökk in the Baldr story, who
refuses to weep for him, is often supposed to be Loki, making double sure
Baldr stays dead for his own evil reasons. But the claim could be made that
she is Death herself, the one being who would feel no need to weep for
Baldr. "What Hel has, she may keep", Þökk says. Hermóðr does not understand
Hel's hidden meaning when she says all things must weep for Baldr to prove
he was universally mourned. What she means, perhaps, is that all the worlds
may wish Baldr back, but death herself will remain inexorable.

The ancient death Goddess was often pictured as having gaping jaws and a
ravening wolfish nature (which is reminiscent of Hel's brother Fenrir,
whose jaws, when open, stretched from Heaven to Earth). The Norse Hel is
pictured as a woman of very stern demeanor and parti-coloured - sometimes
half black or blue and half white, sometimes half corpse flesh and half
living, by which, as Snorri puts it in his Edda, "she is easily recognized"
(no doubt!). Sometimes it is suggested that her upper half is white/living
and her lower half is black/rotting, but one may well suspect that this has
more to do with the neuroses of modern society than with the beliefs of our
ancestors; Karter Neal, who has done much work with this goddess, says that
she always sees Hella's two halves as being right side/left side. An
interesting point to bring up here is a passage from ibn Fadlan's
descriptions of the Rus, where a corpse is buried temporarily in the frozen
earth while preparations are made for the funeral; when it was dug up, the
cold had turned the flesh black. The Norse were also surely aware of the
phenomenon of livor mortis, which, after a few hours, causes the skin of
whatever parts of the body are lowest to take on a bluish-purple hue. The
dead are either described as helblár (Hel blue/black) or nábleikr, náfölr
(corpse-pale).

This two-coloured aspect can symbolize death's two sides - ugly and
peaceful. It may be worth noting that those dead who do become helblár are
usually those who walk as draugar after their deaths - the evil dead, in
other words.

Leaving scholarly speculations for more mystical ones, I (Alice
Karlsdóttir) have done a series of meditations on Hel over a few years,
trying to find out what sort of deity she is, and have seldom seen her as
two-coloured. She appears either all hideous (which seems to amuse her
greatly as being a huge joke on everyone), or all beautiful, with very pale
skin, hair, eyes, and garments, and always with her crown on. Death appears
fearsome and ugly to the living, for we see it as an end to all we know and
love, often accompanied by pain and fear. But if death is a part of life
and the natural cycle of things, and if the soul continues in another life
afterwards, might not Death appear beautiful to one who is dying, a welcome
release from pain, a doorway to a new existence? When death is truly
accepted and understood, it loses its hideous face. Perhaps this is what
Hel's two-faced quality represents. There are as many references to beauty
in her realm as ugliness. It comes down to whether we are going to be
willing to accept death or not, but willing or not, we must face her sooner
or later.

Hella's chief animal is the horse; the Scandinavian belief in the helhest
is spoken of under "Soul, Death, and Rebirth". She is also seen as a
three-legged white goat; another folk belief was that Hel had a huge ox
which went from place to place during times of sickness and whose breath
caused people to fall down dead.

Hella's colours are black or deep blue-black and white. Runes associated
with her in modern times are Hagalaz, Berkano, and Isa.

Sunna (Sól)

At least from the beginning of the Iron Age onward, the Sun was always seen
as a goddess by the Germanic folk, while the Moon was a god, her brother.
While there is little surviving evidence for Moon-worship, there is more
for worship of Sunna. In his article "Folklore in the Icelandic Sagas and
the Blót of Guðrún Ósvífrsdóttir", Jón Hnefill Aðalsteinsson has shown that
it is very likely that the passage in Laxdæla saga where it is described
how Guðrún rose early on the day of the killing of Kjartan, "er sólu var
ofrat" (normally translated as "when the Sun got up" - lit. "when the Sun
was lifted or offered to"), actually tells of an offering to the Sun -
originally probably made by Guðrún herself. He comments that "it is worth
remembering that at the Conversion, people were for the time being
permitted to sacrifice in secret, this not being considered a punishable
offence unless witnesses were present...A sacrifice that took place before
everybody else woke up would therefore not have been seen as an offence at
this time" (p. 264). If he is correct, this would suggest that Sunna
received offerings on special occasions: Guðrún wishes to talk her husband
and brothers into killing the hero Kjartan and make sure that the slaying
will be successful, and thus she makes a blessing to the Sun. The first
brightness of dawn was often seen as a sign of sig: after Hákon the Great's
blessing to Óðinn (Óláfs saga Tryggvasonar, Heimskringla), he sees two
ravens, which he takes as an omen that he will have "dagrád til at berjask"
- that is to say, "dawn", or victory, for his battling. When Guðrún's dawn
blessing is thought of in this context, it suggests that Sunna herself may
be seen as the one to whom sig-offerings are made.

Sunna is also able to bless the dying: in Landnámabók, it is mentioned that
Þórkell Þórsteinsson "had himself borne out into the rays of the Sun in his
Hel-sickness". Jón Aðalsteinsson sees the follow-up to this in which
Þórkell "commended himself into the hands of that god who had shaped the
sun" as a christian addition to an authentic tale of a Sun-worshipper's
death (p. 263). She is, of course, the foe of all those wights who dog the
dark death-paths - etins, trolls, and ill-willing ghosts - and the blessing
of her light at death might have worked in much the same way as the little
Þórr's-Hammers used as grave-amulets.

Sól is listed among the goddesses in Snorri's Edda: she has either two
horses, Árvakr and Alsviðr, or one, Skin-faxi (Shining-Mane). The image of
the horse drawing the Sun's wain goes back at least to the Bronze Age; the
best-known example is the well-known Trundholm sun-wagon (spoken of under
"The Bronze Age"). Parts of a like piece were found in the Tågaborg mound
in Helsingborg (Gløb, The Mound People, p. 103).

The Old Norwegian Rune-Poem's lines, "(Sun) is the light of lands; I lout
(bow) to the holy deeming" also suggest that the Sun was seen as a greater
goddess than the myths show her to be, as do the various descriptions of
her in the Elder Edda: she is skírleitt goð (shining-faced deity -
Grímnismál 39), heið brúðr himins (glorious bride of heaven - Grímnismál
39), and skínandi goð (shining deity - Grímnismál 38, Sigrdrífumál 15). Jón
Aðalsteinsson also cites Skúli Þórsteinsson's poem about the sunset: "Glens
beðja veðr gyðju / goðblíð í vé síðan / kømr gótt, með geislum, / gránserks
ofan Mána" - Glen's (the gleaming one's) god-blithe wife treads with her
rays into the goddess' wih-stead; afterwards the mild light of gray-sarked
Máni comes from above.

Finally, there are the many folk practices which suggest the worship of the
Sun, such as the lighting of wheels and dawn-fires at (variously) Yule,
Ostara, and Midsummer's (spoken of further in the chapters on those
blessings), and the folk custom of rising early to "see the Sun dance" on
Ostara, May Day, or Midsummer's. It is thus clear that the Germanic folk
did worship the goddess Sunna, and probably that she was seen as more than
a mere personification of the shining light in the sky: that she herself
was, in fact, seen as the source of light, life, and sig.

Sunna's colour is gold, though she is sometimes also thought of in modern
times as being white-clad. Those who live in more southerly climates, where
she is not the mild maiden that she is in the North, also see her as an
etin-maid or a furious sow in the summertime; in Runelore, Thorsson cites
the German saying "Die gelbe Sau brennt" (the yellow sow burns) for an
especially hot day.

Contributors

Alice Karlsdóttir, from "The Lady Death", in Idunna IV, 4, #17, Yule-Month
1992 C.E., pp. 2-7 (nearly all of "Hella"; note that parts of this article
are also reproduced under "Soul, Death, and Rebirth").

Gefjon

Stephan Grundy, from "Freya and Frigg" (Ellis-Davidson, H.R., ed., Images
of the Goddess - forthcoming from Routledge; title may be subject to
change)

KveldúlfR Gundarsson, Warder of the Lore, from "The Spinning Goddess and
Migration Age Bracteates" (unpublished article)

Melodi Lammond (for Sága)

Larsanthony K. Agnarsson, Elder-in-training, "The Goddess Thruð", from
Fjallabók #1.

Karter Neal

Laurel Olson

Diana Paxson, Elder

Siegróa Lyfjasgyðja (for Eir)

Dianne Luark Ross, Elder, from "The Birch Goddess", Idunna vol. II, #2,
October 1989




Chapter XIV

Thonar (Þórr, Thunar, Donar, Donner,

*Thonaraz)

Of all the gods of the North, Thonar is likely to be the best-loved and,
together with Wodan, is the best-known - he has always been one of the most
beloved and called upon deities. He is the champion of Asgard and Midgard
against the chaos and destruction of the thurses His Hammer is the sign of
the true, worn as the emblem of the troth of our folk even by those who are
given to other god/esses. Few indeed are those who do not hold some love
for old Redbeard - the Friend of Men, the Middle-Garth's Warder, whose
Hammer-blows are ever turned

outward to protect humankind from all the threats beyond the Middle-Garth's
walls and whose mighty mod is seen in the raging of the storms from which
his name - "Thunder" - comes.

The image of Thonar as a fighter is reinforced by scholars, such as
Dumézil, who try to categorize all of the god/esses into the narrow
tripartite system, invariably classifying Thonar as just a warrior, and not
a very bright one at that. But Thonar is more than just a strong brute who
wars against chaos. He delivers the summer rains that make the crops grow;
he hallows important occasions and ceremonies, and he gives strength and
support to those who follow the old path.

Thonar is the son of the Earth and Wodan. He is the strongest of the gods,
and, as seen in Lokasenna, the only one who can intimidate Loki. He appears
as a big man with a red beard - sometimes young, sometimes as the old "Þórr
Karl"; his eyes are fiery. He drives a wain drawn by the two goats
Tanngnjóstr ("teeth-grinder") and Tanngrísnir ("teeth-gnasher") - like the
founder of Normandy, Göngu-Hrolf, he is too mighty for a horse to bear him,
and must go on his two feet or in this wagon, even when he fares between
the worlds where the other god/esses ride their steeds. He wears iron
gauntlets and a belt referred to as megingjörð (the girdle of main); he
carries the magical staff called Gríðarvölr (Gríðr's staff). Although
Snorri says that Þórr had possessed his own strength-belt and gauntlets
before the giantess Gríðr gave him these items of hers, it seems more
likely that she was the original source. He has a tremendous appetite for
food and drink; and where-ever he is, he will come when his name is called.
He is married to the goddess Sif, on whom he fathered the maiden Trude
(Þrúðr); he also has an etin-concubine, Járnsaxa, on whom he fathered his
sons Móði and Magni.

Thonar has often been described as the "common man's patron", which many of
the folk who follow him have found accurate. As Hawkmoon says, "(Thorr's)
solutions to problems are direct. If he intends to aid you with something,
you are made aware of it directly. One night, after invoking Thorr, I left
the blot bowl standing on the harrow with a goodly amount of stout
(Guinness) poured into it (several other folk have, quite independently of
each other, felt stout to be Thonar's drink - KHG). No animals were about,
and the room was not disturbed. Yet, when I woke in the morning (some 6
hours later) the stout was gone. It had obviously been drunk, as there was
no residue in the bottom, as there would have been had it dried up. Welcome
to the twilight zone, right? Yet, in a few days, the situation that I had
sought Thorr's aid for was resolved very much to my satisfaction. If that's
not direct dealing, I don't know what is...I have always felt it easy to
speak to Thorr. Whereas Odhinn enjoys a little theater in your ritual,
Thorr seems to like it when you just say what you want and get it over
with."

Although Thonar has sometimes been put forth as a rather simple god - not
given to much thought, more like the giants than the other gods in his
great appetites for food, drink, and battle, and hardly a match for the
wits of Wodan and Loki - to see him as limited in wisdom or lacking in the
rich layers of complexity which make up the other god/esses is to greatly
misunderstand him. True, where Wodan is a deep-thought and devious god,
Thonar is simpler and more straightforward - less prone to seek out the
deeper levels of things, preferring to deal with what is already evident.
Thonar's wisdom is the wisdom of common sense, which some might call the
greatest of all. When Wodan sees a problem, he deals with it through
subtlety; Tiw might work his way through a maze by patience and rational
judgement, but Thonar simply smashes down the walls, which may even be more
rational in the end - after all, everyone knows that the shortest distance
between two points is a straight line. Thonar's wisdom is seen, for
instance, in the tale of his journey to the giant Geirröðr. Trusting that
his friend Loki is as true as he himself (naïve, but understandable, given
Thonar's own total trustworthiness), Þórr has gone off without his Hammer;
but the etin-frowe Gríðr, mother of Víðarr, gives him a staff, gauntlets,
and belt of might. While he is crossing a river with the help of these
items, the river suddenly swells into a great flood. Þórr looks up to see
one of Geirröðr's daughters standing across it, causing it to rise with her
urine and menstrual blood. He then says, "A river must be stemmed at its
source", and throws a large rock at her. Þórr shows a similar sort of
sensible wisdom in the Eddic poem Alvíssmál, where he deals with the dwarf
who has come to take his daughter by challenging the rock-dweller's wisdom.
Alvíss (All-Wise), distracted by this challenge, recounts lore until
daylight, when the first rays of dawn turn him into stone. Thonar's purpose
here is not, like Wodan's in Vafþrúðnismál, either to learn the other's
wisdom or to show off his own: he simply wants to get rid of the dwarf
(presumably it is important for him to do this without breaking the frith
of the Ases' Garth, where the poem is set), and does so with the simplest
means available to him - letting Alvíss trip over his own knowledge. Also,
we should not forget that Thonar is called djúphugaðr - the Deep-Souled or
Deep-Thinker. He may not be as swift with words and subtle ploys as some
deities - but his essential wisdom is no less than theirs.

Perhaps surprisingly, there are also some shamanic elements to Thonar's
character. His journeys to the Outgarth, in the course of which he either
battles with ill-willing wights threatening the community or brings back
objects of power (the cauldron for Ægir's brewing, his own Hammer, the
staff, belt, and gauntlets given him by Gríðr), are very typically shamanic
activities. His possession of staff and gauntlets is particularly
interesting since these are the items used by Icelandic witches in their
gandreið (magical riding or wand-riding) and, particularly the staff, are
generally characteristic of shamans. In one case, his reclaiming of his
Hammer, Thonar even has to cross-dress as a necessary condition of his
success, which is also a major element of shamanic practice. In this
aspect, Loki often seems to act as his not wholly trustworthy guide/ally
spirit who is native to the world beyond the garth. This side of Thonar has
been little explored. It is, however, worthy of note that the Korpbron
runestone (put up by a Heathen in an unfriendly area, as shown by the fact
that this part of the inscription is put in coded runes inside a cross)
calls "siþi Þur" - "Þórr, perform seiðr!" This suggests two things:
firstly, that the image of seiðr as "unmanly" which Snorri gives us so
specifically in Ynglinga saga may not have existed in Heathen times (or
even as late as the period of conversion from which the Korpbron stone
stems); and secondly, that Thonar had his own connections with magic.

Thonar's greatest might in the religious/ritual sense, however, was that of
hallowing. The Hammer is laid in the bride's lap at a wedding "brúði at
vígia" ("to hallow the bride" - Þrymskviða 30); Snorri tells us of how he
swings it over the bones and hides of his devoured goats to bring them back
to life and of how he blesses Balder's pyre with it. The latter mention is
particularly interesting given the common use of Þórr's-Hammer amulets in
Viking Age burials (see "Burial Rites"). It is Þórr, not Óðinn, who is
called on to hallow the runes of the stones from Glavendrup (ca. 900-925)
and Sönderkirkeby (late 10th century) with the inscription "Þor uiki (þasi)
runaR" (Þórr hallow these runes); the late 10th century Virring stone ("Þur
uiki þisi kuml" - Þórr hallow this memorial-marker), and the Velanda stone
of the same approximate date ("Þur uiki" - Þórr hallow) (Baetke, Walter,
Das Heilige im Germanischen, p. 113). These stones may well be Heathen
reactions against the newly-set christian runestones; however, this does
not lessen the meaning of the consistent choice of Þórr, rather than Óðinn,
as the hallower of the runes. The Þórsheiti "Véurr", which de Vries
interprets as "warder of the wih-stead" also appears in the 9th century Rök
stone's inscription, as the cultic title of a man named Sibbi (see the
discussion of the Rök stone below). The belief in Thonar as Hallower is not
limited to the Norse materials, however: the Nordendorf fibula (from
Southern Germany, 6th century C.E.), calls on "Wigithonar" - Hallow-Thonar
(together with Wodan and "Logathore"). This suggests strongly that Hallower
was one of Thonar's roles from the earliest times, and common to the
understanding of all the Germanic peoples. For this reason, the Hammer-sign
is used as the general sign with which true folk hallow food and drink,
blessings to the god/esses, and so forth. Moreover, the hallowing performed
by Thonar is not that of making something holy - blessed in the sense of
being part of the Middle-Garth, but attuned to the other worlds - but that
of making something wih - so filled with might that it is set apart from
the ordinary world, becoming a part of the world of the god/esses.

Although always mighty among the folk, Thonar seems to have risen to his
greatest heights in the latter part of the Viking Age, when he was called
on more and more as the warder of the troth against the invading "God" and
Christ of the South. The battle was one of "Red Þórr" against the "White
Christ" - a comparison which carried a subtle insult to the latter. To be
"red" meant not only literally to have red hair (a sign of fierceness,
which Germanic warriors sometimes achieved through dyeing their hair, as
reported by), but to be strong-willed, hot-tempered, and battle-mighty -
while to be "white" could mean, as well as the complimentary meaning of
fairness, to be weak-willed and cowardly (comparable to calling someone
"lily-livered"). When the christian missionary Thangbrand came to Iceland
(at the bidding of Óláfr Tryggvason), the skald Steinunn (who may well have
been a priestess of Þórr) made several verses showing clearly that Þórr was
the warder of the Heathen ways. She praises the god for wrecking
Thangbrand's ship, and also says to the missionary, "Have you heard that
Þórr bade Christ to a holmgang, and he did not trust his own strength
enough (treytisk) to battle with Þórr?" (Brennu-Njáls saga,ch. 102) The
Þórr's-Hammer pendants which are so common in the later part of the Viking
Age have often been suggested to be the Heathen answer to the christian
cross, just as the "Þórr hallow" runestones may have been a reaction
against christian practice: it was clearly he in whom our folk trusted
against all malign spiritual influences, trolls and missionaries alike. The
various sagas of the two christian Óláfrs mention great statues of Þórr;
although their descriptions may have been somewhat based on antiquarian
fancy, Adam of Bremen's description of the temple of Uppsala also has a
statue of Þórr in the highest place (above Freyr and Óðinn). Turville-Petre
mentions that "the evidence of the place-names does suggest that the public
cult of Thór increased greatly in Norway during the ninth and tenth
centuries" (Myth and Religion, p. 92).

Much is known of the worship of Thonar. Eyrbyggja saga describes how his
image was carved on the house-pillars of his "beloved friend" Þórólfr
Mosturskeggi; Óláfs saga Tryggvasonar (Flateyjarbók) mentions that Eiríkr,
the son of Hákon the Great, had an image of Þórr on his ship-pillar, and
Fostbroeðra saga speaks of a chair on which the god was carved. One of the
best-known pieces of Viking Age art is the little Icelandic statue which
appears to be Þórr sitting with his Hammer on his lap; the original of this
was probably carried in a belt-pouch by a worshipper of the god.

There are a couple of references to human sacrifice given to Thonar:
Eyrbyggja saga and Landnámabók tell how such folk had their backs broken on
a great stone. These were not, however, battle-captives or holy kings;
rather, they were "sentenced to sacrifice" - that is to say, this sacrifice
was probably the hallowing of a criminal death-penalty, rather than an act
carried out for the chief purpose of praising or thanking the god, as was
likely the case with, for instance, the Wodanic slaying of
battle-prisoners. More likely was the sacrifice of goats: the account of
how Thonar was able to kill his goats, eat them, and then bring them back
to life again with his Hammer was probably mirrored in actual sacrifices
(Simek, Dictionary, p. 321). He may have gotten other animals as well:
Flóamanna saga (ch. 20) tells how Þórgils Þorðarson, upon forsaking the
troth of his forebears, dreamed that Þórr visited him and was angry. That
night Þórgils' best boar died; the next night an old ox of his was found
dead. Þórgils would not let anyone eat of the meat, but had the boar buried
- clearly seeing that the god had taken his own sacrifice.

Thonar was a mighty fisherman: his best-known fishing trip was the one on
which he fished up the Middle-Garth's Wyrm ("Hymiskviða"), but he was also
the one who caught Loki in salmon form. In Bárðar saga (ch. 8), Þórr
appears as a red-bearded fisherman, helping Ingjaldr against a storm raised
by a troll-woman.

The oath-ring was especially holy to Thonar, and many of the Hammers have
rings soldered to the top - not as jump-rings for stringing a chain
through, as they are set in the wrong direction, but probably as images of
this oath-ring. It has often been suggested that the "all-mighty Ase" of
the Icelandic oath-taking formula from Landnámabók was Þórr (though other
gods, most notably Óðinn and Ullr, have been put forward as well).

The "god-nails" described in Eyrbyggja saga may well have been used for
striking holy fire, and thus been likewise seen as signs of Þórr. They were
set in the pillars that bore his image; one may guess that they might have
been struck into his forehead, in memory of the fragment of Hrungnir's
whetstone which stuck there after the god's hammer had shattered it. The
Stone Age tools which the Germanic folk thought of as thunderbolts were
called "Ukko's nails" in Finland - the nails of the Finnish god of thunder,
who seems to have absorbed many of Thonar's characteristics. This could
well lend strength to the idea that special, hallowed nails were used for
striking lightning-sparks. The pairing of iron Þórr's-Hammers with
miniature fire-steel amulets (see "Burials") also suggests strongly that
the fire struck by flint and steel was especially holy to this god.

The Rök stone (ca. 800), though often thought to be a memorial inscription
for a dead youth named Vamoþ, can also be read as an initiatory document
describing the hallowing of a young man. Höfler saw it as being probably
Óðinnic, due to the invocation of the great hero Theoderik. However,
Theoderik is described as "þurmuþi" - "bold as Þórr" (or literally, having
the mod of Þórr - it should, perhaps, also be noted that "Þórmóðr" was used
as a Norse personal name as well) on the Rök stone. The last part of the
inscription, as interpreted by Henry Kratz, reads: "Now let someone tell us
the memorable matter, about the initiation...I shall also tell this
memorable matter: which of the Ingoldings was rewarded by the sacrifice of
a woman. I shall also tell this memorable matter: to which warrior the son
was born. It is Vilin. He could fell a giant (iatun). It is Vilin. May much
good arise from this. I shall tell another memorable matter: Þórr! Sibbi,
guardian of the temple (uiuari, or "Véurr"), at the age of ninety
instructed him (i.e., Vamoþ) in the mysteries." ("Was Vamoþ Still Alive?",
p. 29). The references to Þórr, to the etin-felling, and the title "Véurr"
given to the old Sibbi (or "kinsman", which could also be the meaning of
the name), suggest strongly that if Höfler and Kratz are correct in seeing
the Rök stone as an initiatory document, it described an initiation within
the cult of Thonar.

Firstly, and all the way to the present day, Thonar is known as the god of
thunder. Turville-Petre mentions that Old English words for thunder include
"ðunorrad" and "ðunorradstefn" - Thunor's/thunder's travelling - which he
compars to the Icelandic "reiðarþruma", "reiðarduna", and "reið", "which
seem to imply that thunder is believed to be the noise which Thór makes
while travelling in his chariot" (Myth and Religion, p. 99). His weapon, of
course, is the Hammer "Mjöllnir"; the etymology of this name is not clear,
but it is likeliest to be related to Slavic and Baltic words for
"lightning". As early as the Stone Age, minature axes of flint and amber
were being used as amulets; in the Bronze Age, we have rock-carving images
of a god with a huge axe, and it is thought likely that the axe was the
original weapon of the Northern thunder-god, from which the Hammer
developed. Turville-Petre mentions that the Lappish thunder-god appeared on
shamans' drums with either a hammer in each hand, or a hammer in one hand
and an axe in the other (Myth and Religion, p. 98). The latter rendition
suggests the possibility that the Lapps could have maintained the older and
the newer images of axe and hammer simultaneously. Stone Age axe-heads were
seen as the embodiments of thunderbolts in all the Germanic countries, and
used as mighty amulets from the Bronze Age onward to protect a house
against all ill, especially fires and lightning-strikes (a use which
suggests that true folk might do well to attach iron Hammers to the tops of
their houses' lightning rods).

To the Germanic folks, thunder had two purposes: it brought fruitfulness to
the fields (Adam of Bremen mentions that this was particularly a function
of Þórr, and the many agricultural place-names with "Þórr" as an element
strengthen this understanding) and it showed the might of the god battling
against the etin-kin. As Audthryth points out,

It is unfortunate that modern civilization is so cut off from nature and
the weather. We have insulated ourself so much from the outdoors that,
generally, inclement weather or a bad harvest becomes little more than a
nuisance. If we get snowed in, it only takes a few days or most for the
snowplows to make the roads passable. If a crop fails, it means higher
prices at the store, not starvation. I think that this detachment makes it
hard to remember sometimes that Thor plays a big role in both the weather
and the growing of crops.

Thor was called upon by our ancestors to bring the summer rains and
lightning that made the crops grow, while warding off the destructive hail.
In many parts of Scandinavia, it is still believed that the grain will not
ripen without the energy of summer lightning Thor is also able to quiet the
seas when storms blow up. It was Thor that our ancestors called upon to
calm the waves and bring them safely into port. Personally, I always feel
the might of Thor when a storm blows down off the mountain or in from the
sea.

The belief in thunder hunting trolls lasted a long time: a folktale from
Sweden tells how a thunderbolt knocked a big black thing out of a crofter's
chimney; the thing rolled off towards the lake, when the thunder hit it
again and it disappeared. A man with the Sight who was there said that the
thing was a troll, and that the thunder had knocked one leg off when it hit
the chimney, then killed it by the lake (Simpson, Scandinavian Folktales,
pp. 185-86). Thonar is best known in the holy tales of the North as the
fighter of giants, without whose battles there would be no humans left on
the earth: for his deeds against the wights of the Outgarth, he received
several skaldic praise-poems (such as Þórsdrápa, which tells the story of
his visit to Geirröðr in some of the most complex skaldic language
surviving - showing that Þórr had the great respect and love of at least
one of the finest minds of the Heathen era).

Despite Thonar's role as a warrior, however, he is not a war-god; he is
never shown as taking part in any of the battles of humans. He is a
monster-fighter only, though he can be called upon for protection in any
circumstances. Hawkmoon mentions that "I frequently invoke him when leaving
the house for any serious period of time (more than 1 day). Also, my Hammer
(pendant) is of great comfort to me on a daily basis. Thorr, to me, is the
defender of the family and the clan, and invoking him for such defense can
be very powerful indeed". As one who often travels into the Outgarth,
Thonar as the warder of travellers is an especially good god for wayfarers
to call upon. Fairly recently, an Ásatrú woman who was normally devoted to
Freyja felt a sudden urge to hang her Hammer on her rearview mirror before
beginning a long night drive; on the way, she was hit from behind by a
drunken truck driver and her little car was totalled - but she survived
with nothing worse than a few bruises. In the old days, Thonar was
especially called on against storms at sea; Landnámabók mentions that Helgi
inn magri "trusted in Christ, but called on Þórr for sea-faring and hard
plights" (Sturlubók 218).

Thonar is, of course, the god of might and main, and according to Hákonar
saga ins goða, those who trusted in their own might and main Hammer-signed
the ritual cup and drank to Þórr when others toasted Óðinn. Thonar's might
is not only the might of the body, but the might of the soul and will.
Something of Thonar's power can be seen in the dedication of weightlifters
or other intensely physical people, who make every test of their body a
test of their will - of their total being - and are always seeking to
become stronger in every way. Followers of Thonar tend to be strongly
self-reliant, even more so than most true folk: Hawkmoon mentions that "It
should be noted that Thorr encourages you to do it yourself if you can. If
you go running to him every time you have a little problem, you're likely
to find that he isn't listening very often. However, if you've tried your
best to take care of it yourself and can't get anywhere, he will usually
help you out, although his assistance may not take the form you would like!
I find that this is true with all the Norse deities, but most evident with
Thonar". Audthryth concurs: "Thor can be counted on to provide strength and
comfort when things get rough, though it is NOT the same kind of support
that christians claim their Christ gives. To me, the christian epitome of
the support they expect is the poem 'Footprints in the Sand', where their
Christ carries them through hard times. Do not expect Thor, or any of the
God/esses for that matter, to carry you through hard times like a weak babe
in arms. I have always seen the support that I have received as more along
the lines of someone watching my back for sneak attacks and making helpful
suggestions."

Thonar is also particularly a god of the homestead, to be called on when
seeking and blessing a new dwelling. This was done by several of the
Icelandic settlers, as described in Landnámabók: Kollr (Hauksbók 15) prayed
to Þórr to show him a stead, as did Kráku-Hreiðarr (Hauksbók 164) and Helgi
inn magri (Sturlubók 218); Þórólfr Mosturskeggi was guided to land by his
Þórr-pillars, and Ásbjórn Reyrketilsson "hallowed his land-taking to Þórr
and called it Þórsmörk" (Melabók 8).

Although Thonar, unlike Wodan and Fro Ing, seldom or never appears as the
father of human lines, many true folk see him as fatherly, an awareness
expressed by Hawkmoon: "I have always felt that Thorr had something to
offer as a father figure as well, though not the sensitive father type that
Freyr embodies, nor the stern all-father of Odhinn. Rather, Thorr suggests
a more average sort of father. Although frequently stern, he sometimes
shows great affection, often when you least expect it. I haven't anything,
really, to back that impression up, but still it persists. Certainly his
fiercely protective nature suggests the attitude of a father towards his
children". Audthryth adds that "one of Thor's most important roles to me is
the giving of strength and support. I know that in Heathen times he was
sometimes referred to as 'Father Thor', and I have always assumed that it
was because of the support and 'fathering' he gives, but I have only my
personal experiences to support this belief. To me, Thor has always been
one of the more approachable God/esses, especially when I need strength and
support."

Aside from the oath-ring, Thonar is not particularly a god of law. In her
article on Loki, Alice Karlsdóttir pointed out that Þórr often sets his own
understanding of what is right above any desire for order. When the god
meets with Hrungnir in the Ases' Garth, he is all ready to bash the etin
and does not care in the least that Hrungnir is protected by Óðinn's
invitation and the laws of guest-friendliness - Hrungnir only saves himself
by saying that Þórr would get no honour by killing him unarmed, and
challenging the god to a duel on equal terms, which Þórr of course cannot
resist. Hawkmoon points out that "Thorr's justice comes from his heart,
from his moral and ethical sense of what is right and wrong. The law is
irrelevant to what is fair. One has to be cautious when consulting with
this Ase on matters involving harm to members of one's own family or clan,
as the actions he encourages are often way outside societal law and perhaps
even over-reactive (despite being awfully satisfying)".

One side of Thonar which was less needed in the old days, but is coming
very much to the fore now, is his role as warder of his mother, the Earth,
against all who would harm her. Hawkmoon suggests, "Thorr, being the son of
the earth, has always struck me as being the perfect deity to invoke when
protesting some company that's destroying the environment. It makes for a
really nice combination of his origins and his protective nature". This
understanding of Thonar was spoken of at greater length by Will von Dauster
in his article "A Song From the Wood", partially reproduced here from its
original publication in Mountain Thunder:

A good friend of this author remarked recently that a forest's health could
be improved by "thinning" it, cutting down "less perfect" trees so the
remaining ones could thrive. This friend is not a pagan, and suffers from
attitudes developed in the 1950's, when it was assumed that humans could
improve anything by applying the Scientific Principle to all aspects of our
environment. That attitude also presumed that humans had an obligation and
right to bring "uncontrolled nature" to heel. An attitude born of a
thousand years of Christian conditioning, of the idea that the Earth was
under man's (sic) domain and stewardship. The arrogance of this thinking
seems never to have occurred to my friend...

Although many Asatruar think of Freya and Freyr when they think of the
woods, this picture is incomplete. According to H.R. Ellis-Davidson, Thor
was often worshipped in sacred groves. Oak groves are said to have been
popular. Massive old oaks tell us a few things about Thor's character. Oaks
are long lived, and appear to get stronger with age and weathering. They
are massive, solid, and are made of tough stuff; a hardwood much prized for
its strength and durability. As a long-lived, strong tree, oaks must have
towered above many surrounding trees, which would in turn attract the
occasional lightning strike, further strengthening the association with
Thor.

We know Thor is called the "Son of Earth". This helps solidify his
identification with the forest, and nature in general. It may be a good
idea to look more closely at the lessons the forest has to teach, in order
to more fully understand the personality, character, and priorities of
Thor.

Many or most of modern Asatruars tend to view Thor as a God of order. After
all, he is the defender of both Asgard and humans. How does this impute
order or law to his character? In our modern, urban-oriented world, the
defenders of people are, for the most part, the local police. Police work
within, or should work within, the framework of the Law, a codification of
abstract principles of right and definitions of wrong. If Thor is the
defender of humans, and tries to do the right thing, then he must certainly
be a god of law, yes?

No.

...Asatru has at least one clearly defined God of law and justice; he is
Tyr. Tyr is also a god of service, self-sacrifice, and if one might infer,
patience. The stories of Thor exhibit many positive traits, but patience
with the enemies of Asgard is not prominent among them. If Tyr is
preeminent as a god of law and justice, and in olden times that more
organized of conflicts, war, where or to whom do we look for the balancing
character, the god who most involves himself with change, situations in
flux, one might even say chaos? Look over the shoulder to the old man in
the long cloak, looking through you with his one remaining eye from under
his broad-brimmed hat...

If Odin is the god of change, and Tyr the god of law and order, where does
Thor fit into this spectrum? Once again, by examining the lessons of the
forest, perhaps more can be learned of the Great Defender, the Thunderer,
the strongest of the gods...

The friend who would "improve the health of the forest" by killing a few
selected trees does not understand what a forest is. A forest is not a
park...The managed tree exhibit, with cropped grass, has as much to do with
the forest as a painted portrait with the person it represents. The painter
imparts her or his personality to the interpretation on canvas, much as
people impart their idea of what a collection of trees should look like in
a park. The painter removes or minimizes perceived imperfections from the
presentation, just as the "forest manager" would remove trees perceived as
defective from the woods. Just as with people, however, differences are not
necessarily defects.

But what of the diseased, the dying, and even the dead trees? These are
indicative of the health of the forest. "Huh?" Thinning a forest, as the
friend noted, does imporve the health of the remaining trees. The problems
are, who decides what gets thinned, and what is done with the trees felled
by humans? Regarding the first process, there is little that can be said
against the process of natural selection. Those trees which are fittest,
which are best situated, which are, well, toughest, survive. Those that
aren't, don't. When humans interfere with this process, the overall health
of the forest is, ultimately, weakened.

But what of the trees that are dead or dying? Removing a few, perhaps for
firewood or construction, is probably not harmful. Removing them all, over
a period of time, however, ultimately robs the forest of fresh soil, born
of the decay of the fallen trees. This, in turn, ultimately weakens the
health of the forest. Deprived of the fertile soil, the nutrients needed
for growth, the remaining trees are less fit to weather the vagaries of
nature, of storms, winds, and disease...

Walking through the woods, one is struck by the "untidy" nature of it.
Trees grow in random patterns, fall where they may, without any apparent
order. Grass, flowers, and trees grow wherever they can, jutting out of
rocks, even growing from the trunks of the fallen trees. While this
disorder might resemble chaos, there is little chaotic about it. It is
random, but follows a definite pattern of birth/growth/death/decay, a cycle
which has gone on for millions of years. The order is that of nature, not
humans. And perhaps here we gain some insight into the true nature of Thor.

Thor is concerned with the overall order of nature, the continuing,
natural, living nature of the Earth, his - and ultimately our - mother. He
is concerned with the larger patterns of life, larger patterns which within
themselves allow for considerable randomness. This randomness does not in
any way interfere with the progression of life, indeed, it is essential to
it. Without variety, without the strict homogenity of life forms, there is
almost certain stagnation, inbreeding, and eventually, death.

This can be seen in the forest surrounding this cabin. The trees that grew
here a hundred years ago, the old growth forest, were strip cut. Virtually
all of the local forest is second-growth. Further, since they grew
relatively quickly and made for good, straight logs, the native trees were
replaced with an almost homogenous planting of lodgepole pines. As a
result, the forest hereabouts is infested with predators and parasites that
thrive on lodgepole pines, making for a sickly and disease-prone forest. In
the areas where spruce and fir trees mix with aspens, the health of the
forest is demonstrably better...

Randomness within the natural order is a part of Thor. Perhaps his
tremendous strength results from this working within the order of nature.
Indeed, people are stronger when living in harmony with nature, not
poisoning their bodies with "managed", "harmless" chemicals, pollutants,
and additives. Thor is not concerned with the petty or trivial temporary
order people can impose on nature, with one important exception. Forcing
the forest, indeed forcing the planet's ecosystems, to conform to our
expectations and demands can, as has been described, interrupt and destroy
the cycles of life which keep the earth alive.

What of the needs of people for wood? Wood is an excellent building
material, ideal for furniture, houses, and countless other uses. True. The
key concepts are farming and sustainability. When approached with respect
for the cycle of life, trees can be a crop like any other, with the
exception of the slow gratification which so annoys Americans. The US
National Forest Service refers to "harvesting" trees in National Forests.
If they had planted them, then perhaps this would not be as absurd a term
as it is in their usage. Let's repeat it: to harvest, one must first plant.
The other concept, sustainability, means, among other things, without the
infusion of synthetic fertilizers and poisons.

When approached with respect for the cycle of life.

This is respect for Thor, and his nature. This means that approaching the
forest, the cycles of life, without respect is to disrespect Thor. This is,
simply put, unwise...

Thor, like nature itself, does whatever it takes to defend the lives of the
forest, men, the way of the gods, and the gods themselves. You are, one way
or the other, also a participant in the cycle of life. For some, this is
enough. For others, it is better to actively participate in the process,
to, like Thor, and with his help, defend the random order of nature, along
with people and the good name of our gods.

Thonar's great foe is the Middle-Garth's Wyrm: he once fished it up and
struck it on the head, but the giant Hymir with whom he was fishing became
frightened and cut the line. He will meet it at Ragnarök, and the two of
them will slay each other. There is some suspicion that originally Thonar
was thought to have slain the Wyrm during his fishing-trip (Turville-Petre,
Myth and Religion, p. 76): one kenning for the god is "orms einbani" -
single-handed Wyrm-Bane. Úlfr Uggason's Húsdrápa (late tenth century)
describes him striking off its head on the waves, but Bragi's Ragnarsdrápa
(early ninth century) has the Wyrm surviving: it is thus possible that two
parallel versions of the story existed through the Viking Age.

As mentioned above, his chief animal is the goat. No surviving sources
associate him directly with the bear, but bears, which represent strength
and nobility in Germanic thought, are often thought to fit well with him.
The two Wyrm-fighting stories of Thonar are also mirrored in the two
versions of what Friedrich Panzer called the "Bear's Son" tale (a motif
which appears in many of the stories of bear-heroes of the North such as
Beowulf and Böðvar-Bjarki): in one, the Bear's Son slays the dragon or
wyrm; in the other, the Bear's Son and the wyrm kill each other.

The eagle is not directly associated with Thonar in any of the surviving
tales, but one of the best-known Hammers is the one from Skåne with an
eagle's head beneath two great staring eyes (which remind us of the fiery
glare of Þórr in Þrymskviða). A similar piece was also found at Hiddensee
near Rügen. The Kalevala tells us that Väinamöinen first struck fire by
striking the talons and feathers of an eagle against a stone; the tribes of
Northern Asia, whose shamanic tradition may well have influenced that of
the Norse, also see the thunder personified as an eagle; and Thonar's Vedic
correspondent, Indra, takes the shape of an eagle as well (Unto Salo,
"Agricola's Ukko in the light of archaeology", in Ålback, Old Norse and
Finnish Religions, pp. 167-175). It is thus not unlikely that this bird has
some ties to Thonar.

The swastika is also often seen as a sign of Thonar. Turville-Petre
mentions that "The Lappish god Horagalles (Þórr Karl (Old Man Þórr - KHG)),
who was adapted from Thórr, perhaps in the early Iron Age, is depicted, not
only with a hammer, or two hammers, but also with a swastika. In Iceland a
form of swastika was used until recently as a charm to detect thieves, and
was called Þórshammar" (Myth and Religion, p. 84). It is generally accepted
that this sign was the emblem of Thunar among the Anglo-Saxons (Wilson,
Anglo-Saxon Paganism, p. 115), who used it rarely on weapons, more often on
brooches and funerary urns. In the latter case, it may have served the same
purpose as did the little iron Hammer-amulets of the Viking Age burials.
The swastika has been seen as showing the god's Hammer whirling in a circle
- perhaps as the sign of hallowing.

The oak is the great tree of Thonar, and has, of course, been associated
with holiness since the earliest times. There is also a plant, houseleek,
which bears the name "Thor's Beard" and was planted on the tops of houses
to prevent lightning-strikes. In his description of Þórr's journey to
Geirröðr's hall, Snorri quotes a phrase, "The rowan is the salvation of
Þórr" and has the god pulling himself out of the swollen river by one of
these trees; the Lappish thunder-god has a wife called "Ravdna" (rowan),
which suggests that this tree may have been closely associated with Sif
(Turville-Petre, Myth and Religion, p. 98).

As mentioned above, Thonar seems to be particularly fond of stout.
Blessings made to him should include food as well as drink; Þrymskviða
describes how he (even while disguised as Freyja) gobbled down a whole ox
and eight salmon as well as all the tidbits set out for the ladies.

Contributors

Audthryth (article written for Our Troth - with effort far above and beyond
the call of duty to get her work to the editor in time to appear here!)

Will von Dauster, from "A Song from the Wood", in Mountain Thunder #10,
Autumn Equinox 1993, pp. 7-10.

Stephan Grundy, from "The Cult of Óðinn: God of Death?"

Hawkmoon (article written for Our Troth)

Jamey Hrolf Martin, from "Thor: Scion of Asgardh", in Idunna III, 3,
Holymonth (September) 1991, pp. 26-27.

Chapter XV

Wulþur, Heimdallr, and Other Gods

Wulþur (Ullr, Wuldor, Wulþus)

Although his name means "Glory", Wulþur is something of a shadowy figure
among the Ases. He takes no part in any of the Eddic myths; the only tale
we know of him is that, according to Saxo, he ruled the Ases during the
years of Wodan's exile. When Wodan returned and cast Wulþur out, he was
able to travel over the sea on a bone risted with spells; the kenning "ship
of Ullr" speaks of a shield, so it is possible that he may have also been
seen as sailing on a shield.

Beyond this, Snorri tells us that he is the son of Sif and the stepson of
Þórr, that he is such a good archer and skier that none can match him; that
he is fair to look on and has a warrior's accomplishments; and that he is
good to call on in single combat. He is given the names öndur-Ás
(snowshoe-Ase), boga-Ás (bow-Ase), veiði-Ás (hunting-Ase), and skjaldar-Ás
(shield-Ase).

As spoken of under "Skaði", Wulþur and Skaði bear a close resemblance to
each other, sharing many of the same traits and overlapping in function;
Schröder's suggestion that they may even be brother or sister (or
half-brother and -sister) is discussed in that chapter. The resemblance
between Wulþur and the Finnish hunting/forest god Tapio is also quite
close, as may be seen in this traditional song:

"Take me, forest, for one of your men,

for one of your fellows, Tapio,

wilds, for your arrow-fetcher...

Take a man, teach him

to look up at heaven's arch,

observe the Great Bear

and study the stars!...

Lead a man on skis...

lead him to that mound

where a catch may be made, a

prey-task carried out" (Lönnrot, ed, The Kantelar, pp. 85-86).

Several references in Eddic poetry suggest that Wulþur held a higher place
in religion and ritual than his absence from the myths would seem to show.
In Grímnismál 42, Óðinn speaks of "Ullr's favour, and all the gods'"; in
Atlakviða in groenlenzca 30, the oath-ring is called "Ullr's ring". His
name is quite common as an element of Scandinavian place-names, being
especially usual in Norway and the middle of Sweden. Turville-Petre
compares this to the distribution of Týr place-names, commenting that, "It
looks as if Ull in the north was what Týr was in the south" (Myth and
Religion, p. 184). Turville-Petre also notes the place-names "Ullarfoss"
(Ullr's waterfall) beside "Goðafoss" (the gods' waterfall) and
"Ullarklettur" (Ullr's Cliff) beside "Goðaklettur" (p. 183), which hint
that the formula "Ullr...and all the gods" was more than a poet's
alliterative device.

Although there is little evidence for Wulþur south of Scandinavia, it is
also possible that some memory of him lived through the English conversion:
"Caedmon's Hymn" speaks of the wuldurfadur, which can be interpreted as
either "Glory-Father" or, with the application of more imagination, "Father
Wuldor". In either case, this poem seems to preserve several heathen
god-titles and apply them to the Christian deity (Ström and Biezais,
Germanische und Baltische Religion, pp. 102, 110), so it is not
unthinkable, though not provable, that the Anglo-Saxons may have known this
god. The Goths also had the word wulþus ("glory/majesty"), but we have no
way of telling whether they knew it as a god-name.

Beside "Ullr", there is also a god "Ullinn", whose name is an adjectival
formation meaning "the glorious one". This has often been compared to the
Óðr/Óðinn doublet, most extensively by de Vries; there is no reason to
doubt that they are the same god.

How and when our folk first learned of Wulþur is unknown. It has often been
suggested that Wulþur may actually have been one form of the old
"Sky-Father" or "Shining Father" of the Indo-Europeans; it has likewise
been suggested that he was a Finnish god whose ways were learned by the
Northerners. In the natural world, his might is thought to show itself
forth in the "glory" of the Northern Lights. His hall is called Ýdalir,
"Yew-Dales", which goes easily enough with his role as bow-god. It also
strengthens the belief that he is a god of winter, for whom the evergreen
yew would clearly be holy. This tie between Wulþur and yews also suggests
that Saxo may have known of an older tradition when he says that Ullr was a
sorcerer who could sail upon a bone. The yew was the most magical of trees,
and four Frisian inscriptions were carved upon yew-wood, at least two of
them specifically calling on the might of the yew - to make the surf
submit, in one case; in the other, to ward off ill. This warding-might may
explain part of the tie between Ullr and the shield, as well as his role as
a god of single combat. The yew is also the tree of death, or rather of
life in death; Wulþur may share this aspect, as well, with the
winter-goddess Skaði.

The third-century scabbard from Thorsberg had the name wlþuþewaR, "Wulþur's
Servant", suggesting either that the sword belonged to someone with that
name or that the sword itself was hallowed to the god.

As well on faring on snowshoes and skis, Wulþur is also a rider, though
apparently has no single steed with whom he is closely identified: the list
of heroes' horse-names in Kálfsvísa ends with the line "Ullr (rode) various
ones, but Óðinn (rode) Sleipnir".

Wulþur has been associated with the Wans several times. H.R. Ellis-Davidson
notes that his place-names are often near those called after Wanic deities,
and tentatively compares the shield-kenning "ship of Ullr" to the story of
Scyld Scefing (Shield Sheaf-Descended) in Beowulf and William of
Malmsbury's Gesta Regnum (Gods and Myths, pp. 105-106). De Vries also
suggests strongly that Ullr had a special relationship with several of the
Wanic deities: his place-names are paired with those of Freyr in Norway,
Njörðr in Sweden, and there are also two Ullr-Hörn (Freyja) and two
Ullr-Dísir pairs (Religionsgeschichte II, 157). These place-names are often
formed with "meadow" or "cornfield", suggesting a fertility connection. In
addition to these, there are three Óðinn-Ullr pairs where the names are
associated either with an island or a lake; here, one might perhaps see a
relationship to Saxo's tale of Wulþur taking Wodan's place for a time, then
fleeing by water.

One explanation which has been offered for these pairings is the theory of
an alternating Summer Ruler/Winter Ruler. Folk enactments of the battle
between the personified Summer and Winter are quite common in the Germanic
lands (though more usual at Ostara, when Winter/Death is driven out): it is
not unlikely that in Heathen times, the might of particular god/esses could
be seen in the two halves of the year, and the turning of the seasons as
mirroring their cyclical conflict. Seen in this light, Wulþur would stand
as the Winter King - the god of the woods and the snowy ski-pathways -
while Fro Ing would perhaps be the Summer King. This pairing of Ullr and
the Wanic deities is also especially interesting in the light of the
separated marriage of Skaði and Njörðr: there, too, a summer-winter
alternation may easily be thought of.

Wulþur's colours are the deep green of the yew tree's needles and the
bright red of its berries.

Heimdallr

Heimdallr is the watchman of the Ases' Garth, standing on the bridge
Bifröst which links the Ases' Garth with the Middle-Garth. Snorri tells us
that he is called the white Ase, Loki's foe, and the recoverer of Freyja's
necklace. "A sword is called 'Heimdallr's head'; it is said that he was
struck through with a man's head...and ever since the head has been called
'Heimdallr's bane'". He also goes by the by-names Vindhler (see below),
Hallinskíði (etymology impossible), and Gullintanni ("Gold-Toothed"); his
horse is called "Gulltoppr". He needs less sleep than a bird, and night and
day are alike to him; he hears the grass growing on the earth and the wool
on sheep. Snorri quotes a scrap from a poem Heimdallargaldr ("Heimdallr's
Magical Song" - now lost), in which the god declares of himself: "I am son
of nine maids, I am son of nine sisters".

The meaning of Heimdallr's name is disputed, but the first element is
probably heimr ("world"). The second may be related to dallr (brightness);
in this case, the name "World-Brightness" could be seen as a complement to
the Frowe's by-name Mardöll, "Sea-Brightness". An alternate form "Heimdalr"
also survives, and in this case, the second element could be dalr ("bow"),
so that the name would mean "World-Bow" - that is, the Rainbow Bridge.

In Grímnismál 13, we are told that "Himinbjorg (heaven-mountains) are the
eighth, and there Heimdallr rules over the wih-steads. There the warder of
the gods gladly drinks the good mead in the restful house". Loki says that,
"For you (Heimdallr), was an ugly life laid out in earliest days. You must
ever have a wet back, watching as warder of the gods" (Lokasenna 48).

We know little of Heimdallr's elder kin. In the first line of Þrymskviða
15, he is called "whitest of the Ases"; in the second, it is said that "he
knew well the future, like other Wans". However, the Heimdallargaldr
description of the god as the son of nine sisters fits with the Hyndluljóð
account of how a mighty one was born of nine etin-maids at the ends of the
earth: "Gjálp bore him, Greip bore him, Eistla and Eyrgjafa bore him,
Úlfrún and Angeyja bore him, Imðr and Atla and Járnsaxa. He was made
greater with the main of the earth, the spray-cold sea and holy boar's
blood". Nine etin-maids also appear as the daughters of Ægir and Ran,
though their names are very different. Still, given Heimdallr's ties to the
sea (spoken of later), the possibility of a connection is worth some
thought. His father's identity is not certain: Snorri says that he may be
called "son of Óðinn"; but he says the same of Týr, who is identified as
the son of the etin Hymir in Hymiskviða 5, so this is at least a little
dubious. Turville-Petre suggests that, since we know Heimdallr has been
killed at least once and will die again at Ragnarök, it is possible that
his ninefold birth is a sequential process of nine lives (Myth and
Religion, p. 152).

However, though Heimdallr's origins are confusing, his younger kin are very
well-known indeed: the whole human race. The Eddic poem Rígsþula begins
with the tale of how "a certain one of the Ases, who was called Heimdallr,
fared on his way and forth to a certain sea-strand, came to a
house-dwelling and named himself Rígr". The title "Rígr" is probably
derived from the Irish word for "king". The poem itself tells of how he
fathered the founders of the three classes of humankind: Thrall, the father
of slaves, Carl, the father of free farmers, and Earl, the father of
rulers. The process is not simply one of separation, though: it is a
process of growth on the part of the human race. Thrall's parents are
called "Great-Grandfather" and "Great-Grandmother"; Carl's are
"Grandfather" and "Grandmother"; Earl's are "Father" and "Mother" -
Heimdallr is clearly sowing a seed and tending it through the generations.
A form of this tale goes back at least to the time of Tacitus, who reports
the Germanic belief of the god Mannus who had fathered the three great
tribes, Ingvaeones, Hermiones, and Istavaeones. In this aspect, Heimdallr
appears not only as the watcher of the Rainbow Bridge, but as its
embodiment: he is the first of the living links between the god/esses and
all humankind. The beginning of Völuspá bears this out: the seeress begins
with the words, "Hearing I bid of all holy ones, both high and low of
Heimdallr's kin". "Heimdallr's kin" must at least include the god/esses and
humans; perhaps the etins as well, if one thinks on his mothers.

Heimdallr is also a teacher, wise in all crafts and willing to give them to
those humans who are able to learn them. Rígsþula shows him coming to Earl
to teach his son runes and spur him on to win his inheritance; when Earl's
son Konr has learned the runes well enough, Heimdallr gives up the title of
"Rígr" to him. Both this reference and the title of the lost poem
Heimdallargaldr suggest that Heimdallr is a master of magic. Harry Harrison
and John Holm (in The Hammer and the Cross - fiction) present "Rígr" as the
god of human invention and technological progress, which fits well with the
picture given by this poem. It might also be suggested that Heimdallr is a
good god to call on for academic help - perhaps even better than Wodan in
subjects where wild verbal inspiration is not particularly needed.

Despite this, many Ásatrúar see Heimdallr as being rather aloof, not a god
who often brings forth the sort of love that is given to Thonar and even
Wodan. It may be that Heimdallr is particularly a god of high and rigid
standards, who will help those who are able to better themselves, but has
little patience with those who do not live up to their highest potential -
though he is not totally demanding; even he relaxes by drinking mead in his
mountain hall. However, he is very much a serious god, who shows no sign of
having a sense of fun - unless one counts his suggestion in Þrymskviða that
Þórr be dressed as Freyja and take her place to reclaim the Hammer as an
expression of humour.

It is, therefore, little surprise that Heimdallr should be Loki's mortal
foe. According to Snorri, after Loki has stolen the Frowe's necklace,
Heimdallr comes to win it back for her and he and Loki battle in the shape
of seals (Flateyjarbók tells a different version of the reclaiming of
Brísingamen, in which the Frowe arranges the Everlasting Battle of Högni
and Heðinn; but since Snorri's version is supported and Flateyjarbók's is
contradicted by Heathen skaldic poetry, it seems likeliest that Snorri
preserves the truer tradition). He and Loki will also slay each other at
Ragnarök. According to Brian Branston's interpretation, Heimdallr embodies
the "good fire", fire as the useful servant, whereas Loki is the "bad
fire", the dangerous wildfire: therefore they are deadly foes. Branston
reads Heimdallr as a personification of the holy need-fire, seeing his name
"Vindlér" as meaning "Turner" and referring to the process by which this
fire is kindled (this is not etymologically correct - see below). He sees
"Heimdallr" as a byname of Óðinn's brother Lóðurr, whose place in poetry he
thinks Loki usurped during the later Viking Age (Gods of the North, pp.
137-147). Branston's argument for this, however, is based only on his firm
and unsupported belief that Loki must always have been evil, and any
helpful aspects Laufey's son had must have come from his assumption of
Lóðurr's position.

Heimdallr owns a horn called Gjallarhorn (the Resounding Horn). He will
blow it at the end of the age when Ragnarök has come, as said in Völuspá
46: "Mím's sons play, but the Doom is made known by the old Gjallarhorn.
Heimdallr blows loudly, the horn is aloft; Óðinn speaks with Mím's head".
Some have seen this aspect of Heimdallr as a Heathen interpretation of the
Christian myth of Gabriel at Armageddon; however, the blowing of a horn at
the start of a battle must have long been known in the North, so there is
no reason to look for foreign models. In romantic artistic renditions of
Heimdallr, he is shown with a Bronze Age lurhorn; Viking Age purists would
insist on a cattle-horn, but since all that is, is in the moment for our
god/esses, true folk may see the Gjallarhorn as they will. It has been
suggested (somewhat in jest) that Heimdallr might be the patron god of tuba
players.

The Völuspá seeress also says that she knows where Heimdallr's "hljóð" is
hidden, "under the holy, brightness-accustomed tree; she sees it sprinkled
by watery falls from Valfather's pledge". This can only be read as meaning
that the item is in the Well of Mímir, or perhaps Wyrd. There is some doubt
about what the "hljóð" is. Hollander translates it as "horn", and if it is
understood in that manner, then its coming forth at Ragnarök is greatly
meaningful: it acts as the embodiment of the ørlög of the worlds, lying
hidden in the well until the time has come for all the turnings of Wyrd to
be fulfilled. Turville-Petre, however, interprets the "hljóð" as "hearing",
comparing it to Wodan's eye: as Wodan, who sees all, has one eye deep in
the Well, thus Heimdallr, who hears all, hides his hearing (perhaps even
one ear) in the same place (Myth and Religion, pp. 149-150).

According to Grønbech's reading, Heimdallr, as a god of kinship, is
especially the embodiment of the "feast-frith"; and the Völuspá phrase
"Heimdallr's kindred" speaks of the folk gathered at the blessing. He
suggests further that, "The sanctity of the feast implied euphemia: ritual
silence and devout attention, during the performance of the ceremonies and
the chanting of the sacred texts; in the sacral language this euphemia is
called hljóð, and hljóð is bound up with the horn of Heimdal, the symbol or
incarnation of his authority" (II, p. 324).

Since Loki can take several animal forms, but Heimdallr is only seen as a
seal, it is thought that he is especially associated with seals and/or the
water. This association is strengthened by the possibility that his nine
mothers may be the nine waves, together with the prevalence of folk beliefs
about the ninth wave; the reference to him being strengthened by "the
spray-cold sea" also upholds it. His by-name "Vindhlér" means either
"Wind-Sea" ("Hlér" is a by-name for Ægir") or "Wind-Protection".

Turville-Petre argues strongly for the ram as Heimdallr's holy animal. The
god's by-name, Hallinskíði, is a poetic word for "ram", and the ram is also
called "Heimdali", a form which is seen for Heimdallr as well in a poem
attributed to Grettir. The god may once have appeared in the shape of a
ram, or it may be his beast as the boar was Fro Ing's and the goat
Thonar's. Turville-Petre also mentions that the sheep may have been a
particularly holy beast to the Germanic peoples (Myth and Religion, pp.
151-152).

Though he owns the horse Gulltoppr, there is no sign that the horse was
thought to be one of Heimdallr's holy animals.

Plants associated with Heimdallr in modern times are angelica, ash, and
yew. His colours are white and gold.

No traditional sign for Heimdallr is known, but the trefot may be
associated with him. It is the sign of the Celtic Mannanan mac Lir, who has
much in common with Heimdallr; it can also be seen as representing the
three classes of humankind which he fathered - or the three realms of gods,
humans, and etins which he brings together - or the three great roots of
Yggdrasill which he, as warder of the Rainbow Bridge, watches over.

Bragi

Bragi, whose name means "the best" or "the foremost", is said to be the god
of poetry; Óðinn tells us in Grímnismál 66 that he is the most awesome of
skalds. Since we already know Wodan to be (to a much stronger degree, as
nearly all the skaldic references to "poetry" attribute it to him) the god
of that craft, Bragi's function in that role is a little puzzling. However,
the first skald of recorded memory was the early ninth-century Bragi
Boddason inn gamli (the Old). This fits with traditional images of Bragi
having a long white beard in spite of his marriage to Iðunn; it could also
be theorized that a human who had been accepted among the god/esses would
have more need of her apples than the other deities. We do know that humans
were sometimes taken up among the ranks of the god/esses: when St. Ansgar
came to convert Sweden, one of the godmen at Birka had a dream in which the
Ases appeared and said that if the Swedes wanted more gods, they would take
the recently deceased king Eiríkr into their company rather than having a
foreigner among them. It is, thus, often thought that Bragi may be the
deified skald.

Another suggestion has been offered: that Bragi was gotten by Wodan on
Gunnlöð during the three nights in which he won the mead of poetry. There
is no evidence for this in the sources, but it seems a nice interpretation,
and some may prefer it to the idea of a deified Viking Age skald. Certainly
Hávamál and Snorri give us the image of the man flying away and leaving the
woman weeping behind which is also seen at the end of Völundarkviða; and in
Völundarkviða the abandoned woman is definitely pregnant.

Bragi does not appear in any Eddic myths, but he does exchange words with
Loki in Lokasenna; in fact, Loki begins by attacking him, adding to what is
clearly a standard formula - "Heilir æsir heilar ásynjor / ok öll
ginnheilog goð" (Hail the Æsir, hail the Ásynjur, and all power-holy gods)
the contemptuous "Except for one Ase who sits within, Bragi, on the
benches". Bragi, seeing that Loki is looking for trouble, offers to give
him him sword, horse, and armring if he will sit down and shut up. Loki
replies that Bragi has neither horses nor arm-rings, for he is the wariest
of battle and the most frightened of shooting, to which Bragi answers that
if they were outside he would swiftly have Loki's head in his hands, and
Iðunn has to calm her husband. Loki then mentions that Iðunn had laid her
shining arms over her brother's slayer; whether this is a deed of Bragi's
we know nothing about, or whether Loki is speaking of another event
altogether, there is no way to tell.

Bragi is seen in the skaldic poem Eiríksmál: he compares the sound of
Eiríkr (Bloodaxe) and his troops approaching Valhöll to the sound of Balder
returning (to which Óðinn replies, "Witless words should wise Bragi not
speak), and asks Óðinn why the god had not given Eiríkr victory, if he was
the braver man. Óðinn replies with the famous words, "The gray wolf gapes
ever at the dwellings of the gods", - an answer which has inspired many
skalds, then and since. He also appears in Hákonarmál, in which he seems to
act as a sort of herald, being the first to speak to Hákon as the slain
king comes to Valhöll's door and to offer him the friendship of the
einherjar. His role in the latter poem also strengthens the idea that he
was once a human who was taken up into the ranks of the god/esses, as it is
the legendary heroes Sigmundr and Sinfjötli who carry out the same act of
greeting for Eiríkr Blood-Axe in Eiríksmál.

In Sigrdrífumál, "Bragi's tongue" is listed in the category of objects on
which runes are carved. The same list includes Sleipnir's teeth, the wolf's
claw, the eagle's beak, the bear's paw, the bridge's end, the
sledge-straps, and a host of other items. These probably do not literally
have runes risted into them, but are, rather, items of the greatest might
through which the power of the runes flow. Blithely ignoring everything we
know about Norse tradition, with only this stanza to go from, Barbara
Walker (The Book of the Crone , and other feminist rewritings of everything
mystical) has recently invented a myth in which Iðunn, rather than Óðinn,
was the original finder/keeper of the runes and carved them onto her
husband's tongue. Since this contradicts all known sources and accords only
with Walker's ideology, it can safely be dismissed.

The cup of oath-drinking is called bragarfull, which means "the best cup".
Sometimes it is also referred to as "Bragi's cup", probably out of a false
etymology which derives the adjective bragr, "the best", from the god's
name. However, since songs and poems are often spoken at symbel, the
"Bragi's cup" could indeed have gotten its name from the god.

Foseti (Fosite, Forseti - Old Norse)

Snorri tells us that Forseti is the son of Balder and Nanna; in Grímnismál
15, it is said that "Glitnir (Glittering) is the tenth (hall), it is
supported with gold, and silver thatches it as well; and there Forseti
dwells most of the day and settles all cases." "Forseti" is also used as a
poetic name for a hawk in the þulur (lists of poetic names and heiti). He
does not appear often in Norse myths or place-names, but in eastern Norway
there is a "Forsetalundr" (Forseti's Grove), which hints that he was at
least sometimes worshipped in Scandinavia (Schwartz, Poetry and Law in
Germanic Myth, p. 19). Forseti's worship is unattested to in Old English
sources, but as the Frisians invaded England together with the Angles,
Saxons, and Jutes, it is a likely guess that he was known in at least some
parts of England. Eric Wodening reconstructs his Anglo-Saxon name-form as
*Forseta.

However, Fosite seems to have been the chief god of the Frisians, and we do
have tales about him and his cult from that area. According to the legend
"Van da tweer Koningen Karl ende Radbod" (of the two kings Charles [Martel]
and Radbod), when the Frankish Charles conquered Frisia, he tried to get
the Frisians to reveal their laws to him so that he could judge them. The
twelve Foerspreken (fore-speakers) from the Frisian lands stall him twice,
but then must admit that they cannot. They are set out to sea in a
rudderless ship. Thereupon a thirteenth man appears in the stern, carrying
a golden axe (a later, and rather weak, attempt to christianize the tale
has been made at this point), with which he steers the ship to land. He
then takes the axe from his shoulder and throws it to the earth. It casts
up a piece of turf and an underground spring bursts forth. The twelve
Foerspreken sit around the spring and learn the law from him. Schwartz
reads the historical motivation as being a later interpolation, thinking it
more likely that the Foerspreken are gods (corresponding to the traditional
twelve Ases of Norse mythology) and that the legend was already old before
the Frankish invasion of Frisia.

The association of this myth with Fosite is based on an event in the Vita
s. Willibrordi. Willibrord is driven ashore on the island between Frisia
and Denmark which is called "Fositeland". Everything there was hallowed to
Fosite: the folk did not dare to touch the animals or disturb anything, and
water could only be drawn from the holy spring in silence. The location,
the special worship given to Fosite by the Frisians, and the description of
an island with a hallowed spring all fit closely with the above legend. His
spring itself may have been a place of capital punishment, as the "Life of
Wulfram" states that condemned men were sometimes drowned in fresh or salt
waters.

Schwartz also associates the spring as the font of law with the Well of
Wyrd, where the Ases' deeming is done, and comments that "Both Frisian and
Scandinavian accounts indicate that law is acquired by crossing over
water...both the Frisian legend of the thirteenth god and Snorri's
description of (the gods) crossing Bifröst indicate that a supernatural
means is necessary to traverse water" (p. 23). Schwartz interprets the name
Fosite as meaning "bridge-setter" (p.24), but the form "Forseti" seems to
mean "he who presides" (de Vries, Wörterbuch, p. 139), as a judge over a
court or a president or an assembly - a fitting name for a god the elder
Heathens saw as goberning law, arbitration, and judgement.

Colours associated with Fosite in the modern age are red and gold; the rune
we associate with him is raidho. It is significant to note Forseti's
association with precious metals (the golden axe of Frisian sources and the
gold studs and silver-thatched roof of Icelandic sources, which may reflect
the tradition of paying recompense as a punishment among the Germanic
peoples.

Móði and Magni

Móði ("Bravery") and Magni ("Main-Strength") are the sons of Thonar and his
etin-concubine Járnsaxa. Magni is the strongest of all the gods; when his
father was trapped under the leg of the fallen giant Hrungnir and none of
the other deities could move the body, three-year-old Magni lifted it off
and then said that if he had gotten there earlier, he would have struck the
etin into Hel with his fist.

According to Völuspá, Magni and Móði will inherit Thonar's Hammer after
Ragnarök.

Víðarr and Váli

Both of these sons of Wodan were fathered by him on etin-women (see "Skaði,
Gerðr, and other Etin-Brides") for the purpose of the acts of revenge which
will work towards bringing about the rebirth of Wodan and Balder after
Ragnarök. Víðarr, the son of Gríðr, is called "the silent god"; his name
may mean "the wide-ruling one". According to Grímnismál 17, "Bushes grow,
and high grass, in Víðarr's land, the Wide; yet there the kinsman shall
leap from the steed's back, bold, to avenge his father". Two Norwegian
place-names, "Virsu" (from "Víðarshof") and "Viskjøl" (from "Víðarsskjálf"
- Víðarr's Crag) may suggest that this god did have his own cult, but if
so, it was not widely spread, and may not have been very old. Today, he is
often seen as the silent warder of empty plains and uncut woods.

Váli is the son of Wodan and the etin-maid Rindr, who, when only one day
old, avenges Balder. Völuspá says that he did not wash his hands nor comb
his hair until Baldr's slayer was borne to the funeral pyre. This sort of
oath was not uncommon for Northern heroes; it is similar to Haraldr inn
hárfagri's vow that he would not cut nor comb his hair until he had brought
all Norway under his rule, and also very like the oath of Tacitus' young
Chatti warriors not to cut their hair until they had slain a foe. A
place-name which may be derived from "Váli's Skjálf" also exists in Norway.
"Váli" was also used as a man's name; a character in Landnámabók is called
Váli hinn sterki (Váli the strong).

Vafþrúðnismál 51 tells us that "Víðarr and Váli shall dwell in the gods'
wih-stead when Surtr's fire is slaked".

Contributors:

Eric Wodening, "Forseti" (previously unpublished).



Chapter XVI

Nerthus and Njörðr

Nerthus and Njörðr are, so far as we know, the first and eldest of the
Wans. The meaning of their name is uncertain; de Vries suggests that it
might be related to "strength", "the underworld/the North", or possibly a
verb meaning "to dance", hinting at holy/ecstatic dancing as part of the
Wanic cult (Wörterbuch, p. 411). They are the same deity; the difference in
their names is only that of the linguistic shift from Proto-Germanic
*Nerthuz to Old Norse Njörðr. However, when Tacitus wrote of Nerthus in 98
C.E., he called her "Mother Earth", while all our Old Norse sources tell us
that Njörðr is a manly god. Their first being may well have been as an
hermaphrodite, or else as a deity that could be either manly or womanly at
will. However, it is likely that, if this were so, they soon became a
male-female pair of twins. The wooden male and female gods of bridges and
marshy places from the Celtic and Roman Iron Ages have already been spoken
of in that historical chapter. Such pairs have often been likened to Fro
Ing and the Frowe, but their watery and boggy steads suggest, rather, that
they may have been images of Njörðr and Nerthus.

This earthy/watery character is the very root of the Wanic might. As shall
be spoken of, Fro Ing and the Frowe have, respectively, much of air and of
fire in their beings as well; as we see in the tales left to us, they are
more active than their parents. To Nerthus and Njörðr belong the hidden
realms below the earth and the waves - the darkness from which seeds and
fish spring up, and into which the dead sink. The Wans are very often
called the "wise Wans" in Eddic poetry, and said to have fore-sight. One
reason for this may be that their realm is that of the gravemound's earth -
the silent hall in which the ur-old seeresses dwell, in which all that is
and is becoming is kept and may be known. The same realm is also the waters
deep in the Well of Wyrd: the Well and the howe, the water and the earth,
are two forms of the same might which hides and feeds the roots of the
World-Tree in darkness. That which sinks into this realm is, in the turning
of time, brought forth ever stronger; gifts which sink into the waters of
the lake or mud of the bog are known to have been taken by the god/esses,
so that they will bless the giver. This is how it was done at the great hof
of Old Uppsala: sacrifices were put into the well that stood before the
hof's great evergreen, and those that sank were known to have been accepted
and showed that the prayers given with them would be answered.

In the Viking Age, only Njörðr was known by name; but the ever-informative
Loki tells us that he had gotten Freyr and Freyja on his own sister
(Lokasenna 36). Snorri also mentions in Ynglinga saga that brother-sister
marriages were common among the Wans, but not allowed among the Ases.
Whether he knew more about this belief, or was simply extrapolating from
the references in Lokasenna to the mating of not only Njörðr and his
sister, but Freyr and Freyja, we cannot know. Njörðr's sister is never
named in any of the sources, and there are no other references to her. The
reason for that may be that only one name was known for the two of them,
and the changes in speech which transformed *Nerthuz into Njörðr may also
have rendered the name more distinctively manly, so that the goddess was
forgotten and the god remembered.

About Nerthus, Tacitus tells us that she was worshipped by the tribes of
Northern Germany and Southern Jutland, whom in an earlier chapter of
Germania he identifies as the "Ingvaeones". His description of her cult is
very close to that of the Gunnars þáttr helmings description of the cult of
Freyr (written at least 1200 years later). "In an island of the ocean there
is a sacred grove and in it a carriage dedicated (to the goddess), covered
with a vestment; only one priest is allowed to touch it. He feels the
goddess' presence in her shrine, and follows with great veneration as she
rides forth drawn by cows. Then come festive times for those whom she
dignifies with her hospitality. They do not make war, they do not take up
arms; all iron is put away; then, and only then, peace and quiet are known
and loved, until she is satiated with the company of humans and the same
priest returns the goddess to her sacred precinct. After this, the carriage
and the vestment and, if you wish to believe it, the goddess herself, are
washed in a secret lake. Slaves do this ministry and are then swallowed by
the same lake: hence a mysterious terror and an ignorance full of reverence
as to what that may be which men see only to die" (Germania, ch. 40). The
tall wooden goddess from Forlæv Nymølle (discussed in "Celtic and Roman
Iron Ages"), laid in a cairn of stones with pots around her, may have been
just such an image of Nerthus, resting in her hidden dwelling place as she
waited for her next procession.

As well as the holy wain, the ship-procession may also have been part of
the Wanic cult. Tacitus claims that the Suebi had somehow managed to adopt
the foreign cult of Isis, of which the emblem was a ship; but it seems more
likely that he was imposing what he knew from his own culture onto a native
Germanic religious practise. Grimm cites a German account from the year
1133 of how "a ship was built, set upon wheels, and drawn about the country
by men who were yoked to it, first to Aachen, then to Masetricht, where
mast and sail were added, and up the river to Tongres, Looz, and so on,
everywhere with crowds of people assembling and escorting it. Where-ever it
halted, there were joyful shouts, songs of triumph and dancing round the
ship kept up till far into the night. The approach of the ship was notified
to the towns, which opened their gates and went out to meet it" (Teutonic
Mythology I, pp. 258-59). The clerical author also comments on "malignant
spirits" travelling within it and the generally heathen and sinful
character of the event. Grimm connects this with the procession of Nerthus,
adding that one of the most significant elements of the account is "that
(the ship-procession) was so utterly repugnant to the clergy, and that they
tried in every way to suppress it...On the other hand, the secular power
had authorized the procession, and was protecting it; it rested with the
several townships, whether to grant admission to the approaching ship, and
the popular feeling seems to have ruled that it would be shabby not to
forward it on its way" (I, p. 262). The Oseberg ship, highly decorated as
it was, and unsuitable by construction for any waters but the relatively
shallow and calm bays and fjords, may also have been a ritual ship designed
to make the procession by water, as the wain did on land. It is possible
that memories of such a procession could also have been kept alive in
Snorri's description of how Freyr's ship Skíðblaðnir could travel over both
land and water; Simek comments that "The name Skíðblaðnir, which means
'assembled from pieces of thin wood', would fit well for a cult ship which
was only built for the duration of festivities" (Dictionary of Northern
Mythology, p. 289).

Tacitus also tells us that the amber-gathering Germans on the eastern coast
of the Baltic worshipped "the mother of the gods", whose emblem was the
figure of the wild boar, which was worn by her folk. This boar "takes the
place of arms and of human protection, and secures the follower of the
goddess a mind at rest even among enemies" (ch. 45). This same belief
appears in Beowulf, where the boar-crest on the helm wards the warrior who
wears it. The boar is holy to Fro Ing and the Frowe; this reference
suggests that it is also holy to Nerthus.

As the early earth- and bog-goddess, Nerthus must, like her daughter, have
owned a mighty necklace or girdle. The word njarðgörð, "girdle of
strength", appears in Old Norse and may well be related to her name; though
it is Þórr who is said to wear it in the skaldic poem "Þórsdrapa", it is
likely that Nerthus has such a girdle of her own. It is pleasing to think
of her necklace and girdle as being, like the Stone Age bog-gifts, great
strands of raw amber.

While Nerthus is mostly a goddess of earth, Njörðr himself seems to be a
god of water, particularly the ocean. He is the god of ships, seamen and
fishers. His home is called Nóatún - "enclosure of ships", or "harbour". In
the tale of his unsuccessful marriage to Skaði (see "Skaði"), his home is
by the waves and loud with the sound of seagulls. This tale also tells us
of how Skaði chose him by the beauty of his feet; interestingly, the bare
footprint is one of the signs which often appears on the Bronze Age rock
carvings, most of which were set up by the coast. It may well have been an
emblem of the god from early times, perhaps as a sign of his fruitfulness,
as the wedding-association suggests.

Today, Njörðr is also the god of water-sports. Frolicking at beaches,
rivers, lakes, or swimming pools, going out on surfboards or water-skis,
and so forth, are wholly fitting ways to celebrate this deity on holy days.

Like his son Freyr, and often together with him, Njörðr held a very high
place as a god of ritual and holiness. In Ynglinga saga, Snorri says that
the two of them were set as blótgoðar (blessing-godmen) among the gods, and
that they were díar among the Ases. The exact meaning of díar is not sure,
but Turville-Petre suggests that, as Snorri uses it, it "probably implies
priests of a particularly exalted kind" ( Myth and Religion, p. 163). The
Icelandic oath-taking formula recorded in Landnámabók (Hauksbók ch. 270)
was "so help me Freyr and Njörðr and the all-mighty Ase (probably either
Óðinn or Þórr, though Ullr has also been suggested - KHG)"; at holy feasts,
according to Snorri (Hákons saga ins goða, Heimskringla) a special toast
was drunk to Freyr and Njörðr (see "Symbel". Turville-Petre also cites
Egill Skalla-Grímsson's curse against Eiríkr Blood-Axe, where the runester
called on Freyr and Njörðr together, and Egill's later statement that Freyr
and Njörðr had blessed Arinbjörn with riches (Myth and Religion, p. 162).

In Vafþrúðnismál 38, Óðinn mentions that Njörðr has countless hofs and
harrows, though he was not born among the Ases; and in Grímnismál it is
told that Njörðr rules a high-timbered harrow in Nóatún". Place-name
evidence supports this as well; there are quite a few of the "Njörðr's vé"
type; also "Njörðr's grove", "Njörðr's hof", "Njörðr's bay", and "Njörðr's
island" ( Myth and Religion, p. 163).

Unlike Freyr, Njörðr does not fight in the last battle; Vafþrúðnismál 39
tells us that at Ragnarök, Njörðr "shall come home among the wise Wans
again".

Colours associated with Nerthus and Njörðr in modern times are brown
(Nerthus), deep blue (Njörðr), black (both), and deep green (both).

Njörðr's holy bird, and perhaps Nerthus' as well, is likely to be the
seagull. Nerthus' holy beasts are the boar (as mentioned above) and cattle;
Tacitus mentions that her chariot is drawn by oxen. As the most nurturing
of beasts, the cow is clearly fitting to her. It is also possible that
there might be some tie between the Wanic god/desses and the ur-cow
Audhumbla, whose doings after Ymir's death are never spoken of.

There are no animals associated with Njörðr in traditional sources.
However, it may be thought that those mammals which can live both in sea
and on land, such as seals and walruses, are the most fitting to him.

Jet is the stone which is thought of as Nerthus' gem, green malachite is
Njörðr's. Amber, the gift of both sea and earth, goes well with both of
them.

As spoken of above, the bare footprint is Njörðr's sign. There is no
traditional sign of Nerthus, though the girdle or twisted circle of rope
might be thought fitting to her.



Chapter XVII

Fro Ing (Freyr, Engus, *Fraujaz Ingwaz)

Freyr's competence (à la Nadel) was in the areas of fertility, peace,
prosperity, sex, sacred kingship, battle and death. All of which areas are
connected with the greater cycle of life: even prosperity, which is the
result of a high fertility. The name Freyr (Anglo-Saxon Frea, Old High
German Fro) is a title, meaning "lord" in the sense of the
peacetime/judicial function of rulership: the Norse references to him as
Yngvifreyr or Ingunar-Freyr have led to the conclusion that he is the same
god as the Anglo-Saxon Ing/Gothic Engus, and thus many Troth folk who
prefer to use Anglo-Saxon or general Germanic forms call him Ing.

Freyr was known throughout the Germanic world, but different areas tended
to focus on different deities as paramount. The area in which Freyr was
most important was Sweden, specifically the southeastern part.

The first evidence of worship of Freyr or a like deity comes from the
Bronze Age: the rock-carvings from Östergötland, which show a phallic man
with a sword and a boar. All the examples of this sort "are from
Östergötland, and this restricted distribution corresponds in part to the
distribution of place names containing the name Freyr. (de Vries,
Altgermanische Religionsgeschichte, vol. ii, p. 201). They are commonest
just to the north of Lake Mälaren, and consequently overlap with the
Uppland group of engravings, among which the role and importance of the
sword cannot yet be assessed; but they are fairly common as far south as
Östergötland, after which they are distinctly rare in the south and west of
Sweden" (Gelling and Ellis-Davidson, The Chariot of the Sun and other Rites
and Symbols of the Bronze Age).

There are several finds of what may be images associated with Freyr. The
best known of these is the small silver figurine from Södermanland (Viking
Age), where the god sits with chin on hand and a substantial erection. This
was probably carried in a belt-pouch, like the silver image of Freyr that
Ingimundr the Old was said to carry with him in Vatnsdæla saga. From the
Celtic and Roman Iron Ages, there are also the phallic wooden figures found
in the bogs of Denmark, which, if they do not represent this god himself,
showed a deity of very similar character.

The christian historian Adam of Bremen, writing just before A.D. 1200,
describes the high temple at Uppsala thus:

"in this temple, richly ornamented with gold, the people worship

the images of three gods. Thor, the mightiest of the three, stands

in the centre of the church, with Wodan and Fricco on his right

and left. Thor, they say, holds the dominion of the air. He rules

over the thunder and lighting, winds and rain, clear weather and

fertility. The second deity, Wodan, that is to say, 'Rage', wages war

and gives man courage to meet his foe. The third is Fricco. He gives

to mortals peace and enlightenment, his image having a much

exaggerated penis. All their gods are provided with priests, who

offer the sacrifices of the people. When plague or famine threatens,

sacrifice is offered to Thor; when war is imminent, to Wodan; when

a wedding is to be celebrated, to Fricco" (Lost Gods of England, p. 114).

Branston then mentions that Fricco is the same as Frey(r), a generally
accepted interpretation. The name, however, cannot be derived from "Freyr";
it is a common Old High German man's name, which may originally have been a
manly derivation from the Proto-Germanic *Frijjo - Frija. Since Adam
translated Óðinn by the German name Wodan, he may have subsituted a more
German-sounding name for Freyr as well.

Saxo Grammaticus, writing not long after Adam of Bremen, knew that Freyr
was particularly associated with Sweden and with the kings of Sweden at
Uppsala, as well as having a special religious role there. He describes
Freyr as being the "satrap" of the gods, and introducing human sacrifice at
Uppsala. Earlier, he mentions how the king Hadding had established the
yearly feast which the Swedes called Freyr's-blót, when "swarthy" victims
were given to the god. Freyr has the particular title "blótguð svía",
"blessing-god of the Swedes", and Gunnars þáttr helmings shows the Swedish
procession of Freyr's image in graphic detail; Óláfs saga Tryggvasonar also
mentions that the Swedes called Freyr veraldar guð, "god of the world"
(Flateyjarbók I, p. 402).

The following of Freyr also appeared often among the Icelanders. For
example, Gísla saga tells how Þórgrímr is said still to be in the howe, and
"he was so dear to Freyr on account of his sacrifices to Freyr that Freyr
would have no frost between them" - that is, the barrow-mound stayed green
even in the snow. Hrafnkels saga Freysgoða recounts the story of a man who
was specifically given to Freyr and shared all his best possessions with
the god he loved, especially the horse Freyfaxi.

The most specific Freyr-beast is the boar, which is one of the fertile
early farm animals. Here we see a clear tie between Freyr and fruitfulness,
which is mirrored in Freyja's heiti Sýr, "sow". At the funeral of Baldr, it
is told how, "Battle-wise Freyr rides first on his gold-bristled boar to
the hill (pyre) of Óðinn's son, and leads the hosts" (Úlfr Uggason,
"Húsdrápa" 7). Snorri also tells us that one of the gifts forged by the
dwarves at Loki's behest was Freyr's boar Gullinbursti (Gold-Bristled) or
Slíðrugtanni (Cutting-Tusked), which could "run over air and water, night
and day, better than any horse, and it would never be so dark at night or
in mirk-worlds, that it would not be bright enough where he fared, his
bristles gave off such light". Vatnsdæla saga gives us a tale of holy swine
as showing the will of Freyr: Ingimundr the Old (who carried the
Freyr-image with him), lost some of his swine and did not find them again
until a boar named Beigath was with them. Ingimundr and his people drove
the swine to the lake now called Swine Lake, where they meant to pen them,
"but the boar jumped into the lake and swam across it, but became so tired
that his cloven feet came off him. He got to the shore at Beigatharhvól and
died there. Now Ingimundr felt happy in Vatnsdale." This was clearly a sign
of the same sort as that given to Þórólfr Mosturskeggi in Eyrbyggja saga
when he trusted the pillars carved with the image of Þórr to guide him to
the place the god meant him to live: the finding of the swine and the
boar's strength and endurance showed the blessing of Freyr and Freyja (The
Chariot of the Sun, p. 54). Similar stories are told about the swine-herds
of Steinólfr the Short and Helgi the Lean, who put a boar and a sow aboard
at a certain cliff, and came back three years later to find that the herd
had grown to seventy.

The boar was also a beast of battle, and it is probably as such that Freyr
rides it as leader of the hosts: Beowulf speaks of the boar-crested helms
of the warriors, and such helms were actually found in the Migration Age
Anglo-Saxon burials of Sutton Hoo and Bentley Grange. "Hildisvín"
(Battle-swine) and "Hildigöltr" (Battle-boar) were names for helmets;
Freyja's boar was also called "Hildisvín". Jöfurr, "boar", was an Old Norse
"glory-name" for warriors and princes; the boar was clearly one of the
noblest of beasts as well as one of the most warlike.

Lastly, the boar was a holy animal. The Yule-oaths were sworn on the best
boar of the herd, which was then given to Freyr and/or Freyja (according to
Heiðreks saga) as the Midwinter sacrifice. Here we see Freyr (and Freyja as
well, since the two cannot be parted) as the one whose might brings the
world of humans together with the worlds of the god/esses and ghosts.
Images of a man with a boar are found on some Migration Age bracteates, and
these may be connected with the cult of Freyr.

Freyr also appears to have been connected with horses. He was the owner of
a horse called "Blóðughófi", "Bloody-Hooved". Sometimes this has been read
as suggesting an injury to the horse's leg, such as that which formed the
model for the Zweite Merseburger Zauberspruch (see "Balder"); it is also
possible that the name describes Freyr's riding forth in battle, as his own
heiti Atriði suggests. The saga of Hrafnkell Freysgoði tells how Hrafnkell
dedicated a horse (Freyfaxi) to Freyr, which only he and Freyr were allowed
to ride. Such horses seem similar to the holy horses described by Tacitus
in Germania ch. 10: the "white horses, never soiled by human use" who are
"yoked to a sacred chariot and accompanied by priest or king or other head
of state, who observe their neighing or snorting. No other divination has
greater faith placed in it, not only by the ordinary people but by the
kings and priests; they are the servants of the gods, but the horses their
confidants". Another horse named Freyfaxi appears in the Vatnsdæla saga,
where the sons of Ingimundr, worshippers of Freyr, attended a horse-fight.
To Ellis­Davidson, it seems likely that horse-fights were associated with
the cult of Freyr. (Ellis-Davidson, 1964:98). In Óláfs saga Tryggvasonar
(Flateyjarbók), it is told how the christian king carried out his attack on
a Trondheim hof by riding the stallion of a herd that was dedicated to
Freyr.

The Völsa þáttr of St. Óláfr's saga (Flateyjarbók) tells of a family which
had a preserved horse-phallus as a holy item; this has also been associated
with Freyr, for obvious reasons. The phallus, from a horse killed at the
autumn slaughtering, was taken by the farm-wife, who preserved it with
linen and leeks and enchanted it so that it grew great and stood by itself.
It was given the name Völsi, and at the evening feasts, it was passed about
from person to person with the repeated refrain, "May the Mörnir take this
blessing!" "Mörnir" seems to mean "etin-women"; the singular is used twice
for Njörðr's wife Skaði in Þjóðólfr ór Hvíni's Haustlöng, implying the
sacrifice of manly fruitfulness to the darker womanly powers, as is in fact
hinted at both in the wooing of Gerðr and the account of Skaði's wedding
(see "Skaði and Gerðr"). Because of Freyr's own surrender of sword and
horse to bring about his wedding, the rune Ingwaz has often been
interpreted as the sacrifice of manhood, and its shape as showing the
castrated male. However, no matter how often Freyr gives his might of
fruitfulness to his bride, more power always springs forth from him; it is
more likely that the shape of Ingwaz shows the manly seed-sack, often
emptied and often refilled with the god's strength.

After Freyr gave away his sword for the sake of winning Gerðr (see below),
he had to fight with a stag's antler at Ragnarök. The stag is thus thought
of as one of Freyr's beasts. Like the boar and the stallion, it is among
the most male of animals. It also suggests a special closeness between
Freyr and the powers of the wild, though usually when he is spoken of in
Norse sources, it is because of his social and agricultural functions.
However, in modern times, Freyr is often seen as being a god of the wood
and its beasts. Freyr's use of the stag's antler has also been seen by some
as suggesting that he may be something of a Norse equivalent of the Celtic
Cernunnos (Horned One), whom the Anglo-Saxons knew as Herne the Hunter.
Though all the Wans are particularly associated with ecology and the
responsible relationship between humans and the natural world, as the
warder of the woodland's frith and well-being, Freyr would most especially
be a god of the ecology.

According to Lokasenna, Freyr has two servants, a married couple named
Beyla (perhaps "bee" or "cow", "cow-keeper" - difficult etymology) and
Byggvir ("barley"). The latter may perhaps bear some relationship to the
British "John Barleycorn"; his connection with Freyr is clear. If Beyla
does indeed mean "bee", the two of them could be read as the givers of the
basic materials for brewing - grain for ale, honey for mead.

In the natural world, Freyr is the giver of sunlight, fair winds and light
rain and all that is needed for the crops to grow. His might is known in
the bright and warm weather of a good harvest-time; as lord of the Light
Elves, he is especially associated with the air as well as the earth.

Ships were also affiliated with Freyr. He had the magical ship Skíðblaðnir
("assembled from pieces of thin wood" - see "Njörðr/Nerthus"), made for him
by the same dwarves who crafted Óðinn's spear and Sif's gold hair. This
ship could be folded up and carried in his pocket, or be put down and grow
to be large enough to hold all the gods and goddesses. It has a favorable
breeze whenever it is used, and can sail over land as well as sea. As
spoken of earlier ("The Bronze Age") the ship is the symbol of death and
rebirth; both of which functions are clearly in Freyr's domain. Death and
rebirth are often seen as a journey, into the unknown; and before modern
charts and navigation, sea travel, or at least ocean travel, must have
seemed that way at times. Ynglinga saga, however attributes the ship to
Óðinn, which is interesting, considering that both the Prose Edda and
Ynglinga saga were written by Snorri Sturluson. However, Snorri was not
always consistent between these two works; it is possible that he knew two
different traditions, one of Óðinn as the ferryman between the worlds (see
"Wodan") and one of Freyr as ship-god and/or death-god. The ship is also a
sign of fruitfulness, and the Wanic processions were carried out both in a
ship and in a wain.

The so-called Peace of Fróði (mentioned in Saxo), a sort of Norse Golden
Age when frith (fruitful peace) ruled throughout the Northlands, was
attributed to Freyr by the Swedes. Both Turville-Petre (Myth and Religion,
pp. 160-170) and de Vries (Altgermanische Religionsgeschichte II 182-86)
also identify this King Fróði with Freyr. Here we see Freyr as the
frith-god, the keeper of the peace, and as the image of the best of all
possible rulers. This frith was also a great part of his holy places, where
weapons and outlaws could not be brought nor blood shed. Víga-Glúms saga
shows Freyr as being particularly angered by the Óðinnic Glúmr, who did all
these things in Freyr's holy places (Turville-Petre, Myth and Religion, pp.
69-70). Freyr's might is, as seen with the oath-boar, that of bringing the
worlds together in frith and making sure that all goes rightly: from this
work of his stem holiness, wisdom, and earthly fruitfulness.

Freyr does not scorn fighting: he is called "leader of the host of the
gods" (Skírnismál 3), and not only did he slay his brother-in-law, the etin
Beli, but Snorri mentions that he could have killed the giant with a single
blow of his fist (a reference which has led some modern Ásatrúar to think
that Freyr might be called on as a particular patron of martial artists).
However, his battles seem to be, like Þórr's, against the foes of the gods
- most especially against Surtr, the greatest force of destruction at
Ragnarök. To humans, Fro Ing is more often a giver of frith. Even in war,
the use of the boar-helms can be contrasted with that of Wodan's spear: the
spear-hallowing acts as a curse to slay the foe, the boar-image hallows and
wards the one it crowns, so that he comes safe and whole from the battle.
Eric Wodening adds that rather than being a god who loves peace so much he
is unwilling to fight, Frea is a god who loves peace so much he is willing
to fight to keep it; thus Frea is in many ways the divine equivalent of a
policeman or "peace officer". Evidence of this function of Frea can be
found in the fact that the Anglo-Saxons called the bands of men charged
with enforcing the law in Dark Ages England "frithguilds". A policeman not
only enforces the law, but protects his charges as well, and Frea does this
too.

Bede tells us that the Anglo-Saxon high priest was not allowed to carry
weapons, or ride any horse other than a mare; and when Coifi turned against
the god/esses of his folk, he desecrated the hof by riding up to it on a
stallion and casting a spear into it. Similarities have often been seen
between these rules and Freyr's giving away his own horse and sword to win
Gerðr; the frithgarth is also typical of the Wanic cult, so it may be that
Coifi was first a priest of Ing.

Mention has already been made of one type of Fröblót, or sacrifice to
Freyr, and that is of swine. Oxen were also sacrificed to Freyr, as in
Víga-Glúms saga in which Þórkell brought an ox to Freyr's holy place with
the request that Glúmr, who had driven him from his land, should in turn be
driven out. The ox bellowed and dropped down dead, showing that Freyr had
taken the gift and would fulfill Þórkell's request.

Sacrifices to Freyr took place at certain times more often than others. One
time which they were done was on midsummer's night, when weddings were
performed: "sacrifices to Frey among the Swedes took place at the same time
as marriages. (Adam of Bremen, IV:27.) Doubtless on such occasions swine
were sacrificed. They were the most prolific of domestic animals and
therefore a most fitting sacrifice, on such occasions dedicated to Frey and
Freyja. Again, we may satisfactorily explain why weddings were set on the
"winter nights": That was the time to perform the sacrifice to Frey"
(Barthi Guthmundsson, Origins of the Icelanders, p. 57).

Another practice associated with Freyr is the procession of his idol in a
chariot through the fields. In the Flateyjarbók, part of the saga of King
Olaf Tryggvason, is preserved the tale of Gunnarr helming. In the tale it
is told that the statue of Freyr is taken around to bless the fields during
autumn, accompanied by his "wife", a priestess. Gunnarr wrestles with the
wooden image of Freyr, overcoming the god and taking his place. The Swedes
were delighted at the god's lively eating and drinking, more delighted when
the god's wife became pregnant, as that was the best of signs. This tale
was clearly meant by the christian tellers to poke fun at the gullible
Heathen Swedes, but it is just as clearly based on real memories of Freyr's
procession - and perhaps also hints at the possibility that a human man
could have housed the god's might for a little while in the holiest
rituals. The Anglo-Saxon Rune Poem also tells us that "Ing was first seen
by men among the East Danes, till he, after that, went over the sea again:
his wain ran after him - thus the warriors named the hero." As spoken of
further in "Njörðr/Nerthus", this procession may be the most typical
characteristic of the Wanic cult.

Burial in a howe without burning is associated very strongly with Freyr.
(Ellis, Road to Hel, p. 78). Euhemerizing Freyr to a mortal king in
Ynglinga saga, Snorri tells us that when he was buried in that manner,
others copied his example: "But after Freyr had been laid in a howe at
Uppsala, many chiefs raised howes as often as memorial stones in memory of
their kinsmen", and later mentions that "Freyr [was] buried secretly in a
howe, and it was said to the Swedes that he lived", and the Swedes kept
paying taxes to him, which they poured into holes in the mound.

The cult of the howe was deeply important to the Scandinavians, for it was
from the burial mounds of his forefathers that a king got his authority.
Together with Óðinn, Freyr was the great kingly deity of the North: he was
both ancestor-god, fathering the Yngling royal line of Sweden, and
mound-god. Together with Óðinn again (and in contrast to Þórr, who hardly
ever received this backhanded distinction), Freyr was the god most often
euhemerized as a king. One of the great royal treasures of the Swedes was
an armring called Svíagrís, "Piglet of the Swedes", and this ring was
probably the sign of Freyr's might passed down through the kingly line.

We know only one major myth of Freyr - that recounted in the Eddic poem
Skírnismál. Freyr had seen the etin-maid Gerðr (Snorri adds that this
happened when Freyr was sitting on Óðinn's seat Hliðskjálf) and fallen in
love with her, retiring from the company of the other gods in his sorrows.
Skaði sends Freyr's manservant Skírnir to find out what is wrong; Freyr
then sends Skírnir to woo Gerðr, but must give the messenger his horse and
his sword so that Skírnir will be able to get past the trolls on the way
and ride through the ring of fire surrounding Gerðr. Gerðr is reluctant at
first, but when threatened with enchantment, yields and says that she will
be wedded to Freyr. It is likely of pre-christian origin, as stated by
Hollander. But as for whether or not Skírnír is an hypostasis of Freyr, as
has been suggested many times, one can only guess. The name, Skírnír means
"radiance," which is a title of Freyr; but nowhere else is it suggested
that he and Freyr are the same. In fact, in Lokasenna 42, Loki tells how
Freyr will be without his weapon at Ragnarök, because he gave it to Skírnír
for his journey to seek out and obtain Gerðr in marriage for Freyr. Many
have analyzed this story as an example of Hieros Gamos, of the marriage of
heaven and earth for the fertility of the crops. Freyr, who is a solar
deity, represents heaven; and Gerðr, who is a giantess, the earth. The
shining hero's journey through a dark otherworld to win the maiden
surrounded by flames appears elsewhere in the Eddas, notably in Svipdagsmál
and Sigrdrífumál (where the maiden in question is an ex-valkyrie). This
seems to be the typical model of the "Spring Drama": the woman may embody
the powers of the sleeping earth, the man the sunlight that awakes and
makes her fruitful. Although the Sun herself is a goddess, the might of her
radiance is sometimes personified as a male, particularly with Freyr, who
seems to be descended from the phallic sun-god of the Bronze Age rock
carvings, if he was not actually that god.

Certain geographic features are associated with Freyr. That a hill
formation would be so is not surprising, considering Freyr's association
with hill burial: "For the Frey worshipper Ingimund the Old it was, to be
sure, no new thing that hillock or an elevation overgrown with woods was to
be his homestead. Such spots our heathen forbearers called a holt (stony
hill.) Frey had decided that Ingimund was to live by a holt, and so he
does. In fact, he twice chooses a place of residence by a holt before
finding the image of Frey in the hill, as is indicated by the names
Ingimundarholt and Þórdísarholt. Ingimund worships holy trees, as did the
people by the Baltic, and like the skalds Þórir snepil and Helgi
Ásbjarnarson" (Guthmondson and Hollander, 1969:79).

We know that Freyja is very much a goddess of magic, and it would be
surprising if her brother, as well as being king, hallower, warrior, and
bringer of fruitfulness, did not also have his own magical secrets. What
has survived, however, is hints which, again, must be woven together, and
there are true folk working to do this today. From his own understanding of
Freyr, William Conrad Karpen writes of an aspect of the god that is less
often considered: the possible shamanic practices of Freyr's priests in the
old days.

If you have seen anything written about Freyr, he was probably described as
a fertility god. Well, yes, he is responsible for good harvests. Yes, he is
responsible for the well-being of the land. Yes, he is usually depicted as
ithyphallic (ithy = bone, phallus = penis; you figure it out). Does this
make him a fertility god? If you ask me, to describe Freyr as a fertility
god misses the point. The mysteries of Freyr as I have experienced them
have to do with the process which transforms Desire into Pleasure into
Plenty into Desire. But Desire lives only in the moment, it does not care
about the Consequences. Desire does not manifest in order to bring Plenty
or to procreate the species or anything else. Desire manifests itself only
for the Pleasure of the moment. Freyr is a God of Ecstasy.

Freyr is not the only god of ecstasy, of course. There are others like
Dionysos, Shiva, Oberon, Herne, and Cernunnos, and it is perhaps more than
coincidental that they are all associated with wild animals, especially
horned ones, with death and the spirits of the dead, with sexual pleasure,
and quite often with sexual ambiguity. Freyr is associated with the stag,
the wild boar, and the horse. Freyr rules over Álfheim (Elf-Home), the
realm of the mighty ancestors, and is associated with burial mounds
(Davidson, Gods and Myths, p. 100). In fact, the Vanir...are often referred
to as álfar (elves). He is usually depicted with a rather large, erect
penis, and his priesthood at Uppsala, Sweden, appears to have
cross-dressed.

In connection with these links between ecstatic gods, shamanism, and
transvestite priesthoods, it is perhaps not going too far astray to mention
Timothy Taylor's theory that the Gundestrup Cauldron was forged by a group
of transvestite silversmiths from Transylvania:

The beardless ("Cernunnos") figure may, for example, be a

ritual specialist. Indeed, he may belong to the same group,

guild, or caste as the five silversmiths (who made the Cauldron),

for metalsmithing was an important ritual occupation...They might

...have resembled the Enarees of Scythia...Biologically male

but dressed as women, the Enarees interpreted omens and

settled disputes for the Scythian aristocracy. Such specialists are

attested across Eurasia in the Iron Age, not just the shamans of

Scythia and the yogis of India, but the seers of Thrace, the druids

of Gaul, and a few centuries later, the bards of Ireland. In Ireland

the biologically male bard who praised the king in song was

described as female, in opposition to the ruler's maleness" (p.88).

Taylor goes on to suggest that the "Cernunnos" figure on the Cauldron is of
ambiguous gender, having neither beard nor breasts. The figure does,
however, wear a pair of antlers. Tayler, in the course of demonstrating a
cultural continuity with certain Hindi traditions, also notes that the
figure's position is similar "to one still practised in rural India by
low-caste sorcerers...Moreover, the posture is intended to channel sexual
energy" (p.89). He goes on to link the figure's attributes - ambiguous
gender and connection to animals - to the shamanic rapport with the female,
the male, and the animal realms.

Freyr was also associated with sexual ambiguity. Saxo Grammaticus' hero
Starkaðr fled Freyr's temple at Uppsala because of the "effeminate
gestures", the "unmanly clatter of bells", and the "clapping of mimes upon
the stage" (Saxo, VI, 185, p. 228). Tacitus describes a similar phenomenon
among the Naharvali, a Germanic tribe:

The Naharvali proudly point out a grove associated with an ancient

worship. The presiding priest dresses like a woman; but the deities

are said to be the counterpart of Castor and Pollux. This indicates

their character, but their name is the Alci. There are no images,

and nothing to suggest that the cult is of foreign origin; but they

are certainly worshipped as young men and as brothers.

(Tacitus, p. 137; emphasis mine)

The phrase that Mattingly translates as "dresses like a woman" is muliebris
ornatus, which Davidson translates as "decked out like women" (p. 169). In
relation to these twin gods, Davidson mentions several pairs of brother
kings, one of which is Alf ("elf" - Freyr is the ruler of Alfheim or
Elf-home) and Ingvi (one of the names of Freyr). She goes on to say that
the Alcis "have been sought among the Vanir, and it has been suggested that
Njord and Freyr are their descendants, or Freyr and Ull" (p. 170).
According to the "Lokasenna", Njörð is Freyr's father rather than brother,
but it is also perhaps significant that Njörð and Freyr were almost always
toasted together. While not much can be conclusively stated about these
cults, cross-dressed priesthoods were in any case not unknown among the
Germanic tribes, and it appears that at least one of them was devoted to
Freyr (in Anglo-Saxon Paganism, pp. 96-97, David Wilson also cites Grave 9
from Portway, in which a distinctively male skeleton was found buried in
women's clothing with female grave-goods, and suggests a relationship
between this find and the priests of the Narhavali - KHG).

It should be noted that in Old Norse, the words ergi, argr, and ragr all
referred both to receptive homosexual intercourse and to the practise of
seiðr...Folke Ström points out:

Both the law texts and the instances in the sagas seem to show

that the component in the ergi complex which can be

considered sexually obscene has exclusively to do with the female

role in a homosexual act. In seiðr - the element in the ergi

complex related to sorcery and magic - we find an analogous

connexion with the fulfillment of a role that was regarded as

specifically female. Thus we may conclude that it is the performance

by an individual man of a role normally belonging to the female

sex which constitutes perversity in his action and causes it to be

branded as ergi; and this applies whether we have to do with

a sexual relationship or with the carrying out of a magical function.

(pp. 9-10)

Thomas K. Johnson has suggested that argr may be translated as 'eager for
penetration', referring to sexual penetration in both women and men (when
Loki calls Freyja a slut, he refers to her as argr) as well as to
penetration by the gods, i.e., possession. This connection between passive
homosexuality and certain spiritual practices is reminiscent of the
berdache role in some American Indian tribes as well as the Siberian
Shamans and the Scythian Enarees mentioned earlier in connection with the
Gundestrup Cauldron.

Going back to Saxo's description of the priesthood of Freyr at Uppsala,
there is an interesting parallel to the English folk-plays which have
survived to the present. All of the characters, male and female, are played
by men, and these plays, including the mummers' plays, the wooing ceremony,
the sword plays, and the plough plays, have remained more staunchly
all-male than other British folk traditions (Brody, p.21). Brody links this
phenomenon to the response of an old English mummer when asked if women
ever take part in the plays: "'No, sir,' he replied, mumming don't be for
the likes of them. There be plenty else for them that be flirty-like, but
this here mumming be more like parson's work'" (p. 21). In fact, he states
that the original purpose of these folk-plays, not entirely lost on their
twentieth-century performers, is essentially of a magical nature: "As we
look at the separate elements one by one, we shall begin to see them
informing each other until the concept of magic as an essential, underlying
purpose becomes inescapable" (p. 20). It seems quite likely that these
plays are survivals of ancient pagan rituals.

English folk-plays are most often performed between Christmas and New
Year's, although sometimes at Easter or in the fall. Freyr's main sacrifice
occurred at the winter solstice, and so this time of year would have been
associated with his worship among the Scandinavians. Brody notes that the
Wooing Ceremony, which is the most complete form, occurs only in four
East-Midland counties - Lincolnshire, Leicestershire, Nottinghamshire, and
Rutland (p. 99). It seems more than coincidental that one of the strongest
Scandinavian settlements in England was in the boroughs of Lincoln,
Leicester, Nottingham, Derby, and Stamford (Jones, p. 421). Rutland, by the
way, is quite tiny and is bordered on three sides by Lincolnshire and
Leicestershire, and Derby and Stamford are inland and were more sparsely
settled by the Scandinavians. The word "mummer" has been related to the
Danish momme, or "mask", an etymology reinforced by the use of the term
"guizer" in some parts of England to describe the mummers, which is derived
from "disguiser" (Brody, p. 4; Chambers, p. 4). Further, the sword dance
performed predominantly in the northeastern counties is thought to have
originated in the folk-dances of the Danish settlers and resembles dances
still performed in many parts of Germany (Spicer, p. 7). While the
historical origins of these plays have been lost to us, it seems likely
that they are related to certain Scandinavian traditions, including perhaps
the cross-dressing priesthoods of Freyr and other gods.

In all of the English folk-plays, of which the mummers' plays are one type,
there is one or more female character played by men. In some, this
character is entirely peripheral to the action of the play, but as Brody
concludes, "There is good reason to believe that these two figures, the
clownish Beelzebub and the 'female', once did have a direct connection with
the central action of the ceremony and lost their place in to Hero-Combat,
as they did not in the Wooing Ceremony and some Sword Plays, when the
combat began to take place over the direct fertility elements" (p. 61).
Brody suggests that the Fool/Beelzebub is the remnant of a central
fertility figure in the rituals of ancient times. This character, as a
result of the wooing action, dies, is reborn, and weds the "female",
providing the substance of the fertility ritual that Brody believes the
Wooing ceremony to be (p. 106). In many of the Wooing Plays, there are two
female characters: Dame Jane, who claims to carry the Fool's bastard child,
and the Lady, who initially rejects the Fool's advances but later weds him.
In some plays, there is a Fool's Wife or else a Mother Christmas. Often the
old woman carries a broom and is called Besom Betty.

I cannot help but wonder, though, why the female characters of a
"fertility" ritual must be played by men. It suggests to me that something
other than purely imitative magic is going on and that "fertility" is more
than simply the mechanics of physical reproduction or the "polarity"
between "male" and "female". Rather than understanding this role simply as
an imitation of a woman, I think it helps to see it as an example of a
third distinct gender, which among the American Indians is referred to as
the "berdache". It is not as if real women were in short supply among the
British (or Scandinavians, for that matter). Even if women were scarce in
some circumstances, one would expect to see women once again playing the
roles if the roles were simply circumstantial imitations of women. It seems
more likely that the interaction in the "fertility" ritual was intended to
be, not between a man and a woman, but between a man and a berdache.
Perhaps the means of securing the fertility of the land was an ecstatic one
since the berdache role is associated in many cultures, including the
Scandinavian, with shamanism and ecstatic ritual.

In most English folk-plays, there is some sort of combat in which one of
the characters is killed. While most of the time, a doctor is called in to
revive the slain character, in certain plays it is the man-woman: "At Haxby
the Clown falls, Besom Betty runs into the ring, revives him, and leads him
out. It appears to be a dumb show. At Askham Richard a Doctor is called to
the Fool and fails. Besom Betty then says, 'A'll cure him', and does so by
brushing his face with her broom" (Chambers, p. 131). One of the male
characters, in some places the Fool, in other places Beelzebub, seems to be
a fertility figure, with his phallic club, his death and revival, and his
marriage to the Lady (Rudwin, p. 36; Brody, passim). The marriage of the
Fool to the Lady suggests a possible interpretation of the relationship
between Freyr and his cross-dressed priests. To my knowledge, Freyr himself
is not portrayed or described as cross-dressing, but he is often described
and portrayed as a fertility figure. Could it be that his cross-dressed
priests were understood in some way to be his 'wives'? One does find
stories in some tribes that the berdache were really married to their
tutelary deities, and that any human husbands they may have are only
secondary ones (Johansson, p. 1192), so this would fit in with other
cross-dressing traditions.

So we have the connections with the male and the female, which are so
common among shamanic/berdache traditions. In the folk-plays, we also see a
character called the Hobby Horse, which brings in the link with animals
that is found in shamanic traditions. "In the plays of Dorsetshire, the
hobby-horse serves yet another purpose...that of divination and prophecy.
The horse has a long history of associations with ecstatic divination, not
only in England, but all over the primitive Western world" (Brody, p. 64).
It is perhaps not entirely coincidental that Freyr was associated with the
horse. We also find the man-woman character present at the Abbotts-Bromley
Horn Dance, in which dancers carry huge, centuries-old reindeer antlers.
This man-woman is dressed in the Anglo-Saxon style, which is nearly
identical to certain illustrations of the Bessie in chapbook mummers' plays
printed in the 18th and 19th centuries. It may have been in part this type
of symbolic connection between the male, the female, and the animal that
made the Gundestrup Cauldron so desirable to some ancient Dane.

Unfortunately, while there seems to be a good deal of information about
Freyr, it is not enough in itself to build a living tradition. What we have
done to effect that transformation, which continues to be an ongoing
process, is to take all this book information and work with it in a magical
context. We have used discussion, intuition, meditation, ritual, deity
prossession, and inspiration to help fill in the gaps and to manifest in a
concrete form that which we understand about Freyr. Gradually it has come
to life. Gradually it has integrated itself into the whole Scandinavian
spirit world. Gradually it has become part of our lives.

Colours associated with Fro Ing today are gold, green, and brown. Because
of the reference in Saxo, many Freyr-godmen wear bells on or as part of
their ritual garb.

Fro Ing is particularly a god of joy and brightness, a god of enjoying
being to its fullest. He is also a god of wholeness: he brings together
body and soul, life and death, humans and god/esses, the earth and the
worlds beyond, and sees to it that they work together rightly. As
frith-god, he can also bring folk together for a single goal, and makes
sure that they all get good from what they do beneath his sign.

No single symbol is known for Fro Ing from the old days, but the Sun-Wheel
is often used for him more than for any of the other Vanir; and indeed,
many of the Bronze Age rock carvings show a phallic man with a sun-wheel
body, sometimes carrying out a ritual wedding with a female figure.

Contributors

The bulk of the first part of this chapter was written by Helgi T. Dagsson
("Freyr: A God and Society").

William Conrad Karpen's article "Freyr: An Ecstatic God from Scandinavia"
was originally published in Lavender Pagan Newsletter, issue 5 (Beltaine
1992).

Also contributing: Eric Wodening, Elder-in-Training, from "God of the
World", Idunna V, i, 18 (Rhedmonth 1993), pp. 13-14.



Chapter XVIII

The Frowe (Freyja)

The Frowe is probably the best-known and most beloved of the goddesses
today. As mistress of magic and goddess of sexual love, she kindles the
imagination and sparks the heart. Whereas that other great goddess, Frija,
is wholesome and safe, the Frowe is sweet, wild, and dangerous. Though Fro
Ing is her twin brother and their mights mirror each others', the two of
them show that might forth in very different ways.

Her name, Freyja or the Frowe, is a title meaning "Lady". Though she has
many other names in the Old Norse sources, it is not known which of them
(if any) was her true name. In Scandinavia, the title was associated so
strongly with the goddess that it, like her brother's title "Freyr", was
dropped wholly from ordinary human use and preserved only as a name; but in
Germany, where she either was not known or was known by a different name,
the cognate word "Frau" has continued in human use to the modern day. To
the Scandinavians, however, there was apparently one "Lady", and one
"Lord", whose titles could be used by no one else (it was only towards the
end of the Viking Age that the word "húsfreyja", "house-Freyja", came into
use for the lady of the house; this may have stemmed from skaldic kennings,
in which a woman might for instance be called "Freyja-of-necklaces", or,
since the form húsfrú also appears, have been borrowed from the
corresponding German title). These titles clearly show the love and respect
which our forebears felt towards the Frowe and her twin. In modern times,
it has often been suggested that our "Lady" and "Lord" are the original
pair whose memories survived in Northern European folklore to be called
upon as the Wiccan Lady and Lord today. This fits well with much of what we
know of the Frowe and Fro: as well as being sister and brother, they are
also lovers, as is spoken of in Lokasenna. The possibility of a likeness
between Freyr and the Horned One is also mentioned in the chapter on "Fro
Ing".

The main difference between the Frowe and the Wiccan Lady is that the Frowe
is not motherly in any way. Because she is the best-known Germanic goddess,
folk have often thought of her as possibly being a Germanic reflection of
the Mother-goddess archetype. Unlike Frija, however, we never see her
giving fruitfulness to folk, nor does she appear in a motherly way to
either deities or humans. Only once does she appear as a patron of
childbirth: in Oddrúnargratar, the childbirth-blessing calls on "kind
wights, Frigg and Freyja and many gods". However, this poem is generally
thought to be among the youngest of Eddic lays; Hollander actually suggests
that the invocation to "Frigg and Freyja" is a deliberate archaism put in
to give the poem a heathen flavour (The Poetic Edda, p. 279). Although
Snorri tells us that the Frowe has two daughters, both their names (Hnoss
and Gersimi) are ordinary words for "treasure". In fact, they are mentioned
only twice in skaldic poetry, where actual treasures are called "Freyja's
daughter". If it is not the case (as it may well be), that these references
simply speak of the belief that gold comes from the Frowe's weeping and
treasure is therefore "her daughter", these maidens may be understood as
embodiments of her might as a goddess of wealth; one might perhaps ask the
Frowe for "the love of her daughters".

To the Norse, Freyja was a goddess of riches, whose tears fell to the earth
as gold and whose most common appearance in skaldic poetry is in kennings
for "gold". Although many of the god/esses are givers of wealth, she seems
to be first among them. Here we see one of the ways in which the Frowe and
Fro Ing work differently: the riches he gives are those of the fruitful
fields and beasts, while those she gives are the worked gold - we might say
now that Fro Ing is the god to call on to bring the harvest of long-term
investments about well and to look after real estate deals, while the Frowe
is the goddess to ask about cash-flow.

The Frowe is probably best-known, however, as a goddess of love and
sexuality. The etin-maid Hyndla says to Freyja "(You) ran, ever-longing,
after Óðr, you let many creep beneath your fore-skirt - atheling-friend,
you leap about at night like Heiðrún among the goats" (Hyndluljóð 47). Loki
says that she has slept with "all gods and alfs in the hall" (Lokasenna
30), which seems to be true. Unlike Frija and Wodan, to who their chosen
humans are children or foster-children, the Frowe's heroes are her lovers;
the Eddic poem Hyndluljóð gives us a very clear description of her beloved
Óttarr, whom she has changed into a boar which she rides to the rock-hall
of the giantess Hyndla. This sort of "nightmare-riding" is typical for
witches throughout the Germanic world. Unlike the men of later folk-tales,
however, Óttarr is not only apparently willing to be ridden, but gets some
good from the faring - the account of his lineage, which he must use to win
his inheritance. Still, the Frowe's love is as dangerous as it is wildly
exciting: Hyndla says that Freyja is riding Óttarr on his "slain-faring" (í
valsinni), and since the etin-woman sees clearly otherwise, we may suspect
that the goddess' lover was not long-lived.

The story of Óttarr, who built a harrow for Freyja and reddened it with
blood until the holy fires (or the heat of Freyja's might) had turned the
stones to glass, also suggests that the Frowe was not only worshipped by
women, but had her own given godmen. Like the gyðja who was Freyr's wife in
Gunnars þáttr helmings, these men may well have been seen as the Frowe's
husbands or lovers. Some of the mysterious deaths of Yngling kings, such as
that of Agni, who was strangled with a necklace by his wife, or Aðils, who,
touched by a witch's magic, fell off his horse at the dísablót (goddesses'
blessing - see "Idises"), also suggest the possibility that these
Ing-descended kings died as holy gifts to Freyja.

Snorri tells us that Freyja is particularly fond of love songs (mannsöngr),
of a type we know to have been outlawed in Iceland even before the
conversion; and the pages of heathen publications are often brightened by
love-songs written for Freyja. Such a song of your own is a fitting gift
for her: one copy might be written out in runes and burned for her while
you read the other aloud to her.

It is strongly suspected that the Frowe's sexual character led to the
suppression of much of her lore by christianity. however, some pieces did
survive, though in a diluted and moralizing form. The best-known of these
is the tale (from Sörla þáttr in Flateyjarbók) of how she saw four dwarves
forging a necklace (the Brísingamen) and traded four nights of her love for
it. Alice Karlsdóttir reads the tale thus:

The story is usually told to demonstrate Freyja's 'immorality' or bawdy
humour. This always seemed rather unfair to me. After all, when writers
discuss Odin and how he slept with Gunnlod on three nights in order to win
the mead of poetry, they praise his efforts at winning wisdom, but when
Freyja, a goddess, does pretty much the same thing, they say, "What a
shameless hussy!"

Freyja's necklace is not, of course, just a pretty piece of vanity, but
rather a powerful symbol of the goddess' powers of fertility and life.
Giants are continually trying to win or steal Freyja for themselves, not
just because she's a good lay, but because her powers contain the essence
of the life force itself and sustain the well-bring of Asgard and the rest
of the worlds. the story of how Freyja got the Brisingamen is a story of
her quest for wisdom and power, every bit as much as Odin's adventures
are...

One of Freyja's powers seems to be a mastery of material manifestation, the
infusing of the physical world with the spiritual. Freyja not only masters
the senses, she revels in them and shows that physical existence itself is
a wondrous thing. I always sort of imagined that the dwarves didn't create
the necklace until after Freyja slept with them, that their intercourse was
necessary to inspire the dwarves to be able to make the Brisingamen in the
first place. Freyja, on the other hand, discovers the powers of the
material world and how to control and shape them.

The goddess' necklace or girdle is an emblem that goes back to the Stone
Age, when slender amulets of schist, given human form only by the careful
carving of necklaces, were carried about (Gløb, Bog People p. 159). As
mentioned in "The Stone Age", amber necklaces of a size only a goddess
could have worn were being given to bogs at the same time. The Bronze Age
kneeling goddess-figurine who drives a small ship with a snake leashed
beside it wears only a necklace and a string-skirt; the same is true of the
little female acrobat/dancer from the same period. The huge Swedish gold
collars of the Migration Age (discussed in the historical chapter), were
clearly also holy, and by this period it is quite possible that they could
have been given specifically to the Frowe, although god-figures with
collars carved on their necks have also been found. The necklace is the
sign of the world's ring; Freyja's winning of the Brisingamen is one of the
strongest reasons to think of her as an earth-goddess like her mother
Nerthus, and therefore, though there is nothing in the Norse sources to
suggest it, perhaps also being one of the goddesses who makes the world
fruitful. It is certainly the sign of her power. We do not know what it
actually looked like: the name "Brísingamen" can either be read as "the
necklace (or girdle) made by the fiery ones (Brísings, presumably the name
of the dwarves)" or as "the fiery necklace (or girdle)". We know that gold
is called fire in kennings, so that the Brísingamen is likeliest to have
been made of gold, though it is often pictured in modern times as being
amber or at least set with amber. In Úlfr Uggason's poem Húsdrápa, the
Brísingamen is called hafnýra, "harbour-kidney", a kenning which may also
hint that amber was a part of the necklace, since amber was normally
gathered along the seashore. The workings of the four dwarves might hint at
a four-ringed collar, or a four-stranded necklace - especially since, seen
on a level plain, the cosmos also has four concentric rings (the Ases'
Garth, the Middle-Garth, the sea around the Middle-Garth, and the Out-Garth
- see "Worlds"). The Frowe's necklace would then be the embodiment of her
might through all the realms. A small Swedish pendant from Östergotland
(late Viking Age) is often thought to represent Freyja: it shows a
remarkably large-breasted woman wearing a four-layered necklace and seated
inside a ring.

As the bearer of fiery life-might, the Frowe is greatly needed by the other
god/esses; etins often seek her in marriage, as was done by the builder of
Ase-Garth's walls and the giant Þrymr, who stole Þórr's Hammer to use it as
a bargaining point in getting her.

The Frowe is first thought to have come among the Ases as the witch
Gullveigr ("Gold-Intoxication"), whose fate started the war between the
Ases and the Wans: "when Gullveigr was studded with spears and burned in
Hár's hall; thrice burned, thrice born, often, not seldom, but yet she
lives" (Völuspá 21). Here we see what is clearly a Frowe-initiation similar
to that of Wodan's hanging on the tree: while he is hanged and stabbed, she
is stabbed and burnt, each of them slain by the means which is holiest.
Just as Wodan won the runes, the Frowe came forth with the full lore of her
own seiðr: "Heiðr hight she, when she came to houses, spae-wise völva, she
knew magic; she worked seiðr as she knew how to, worked seiðr, playing with
soul - she was ever beloved to wicked women" (Völuspá 22). The name "Heiðr"
means either "the Glorious/Bright One" or "the Heath-Dweller": we can see
her wandering freely through heath and house, glowing with the seething
fires of her threefold burning and rebirth. Heiðr is seen in modern times
as the "older woman" aspect of Freyja, with the fiery might of her gold and
sex sublimated into the wisdom and magical might of the witch. The stone we
associate with her now is jet, and the colours are black and white
interwoven so that they look gray from a little way off. Eiríks saga ins
rauða mentions that the seeress was fed a meal of the hearts of several
sorts of animals; as Heiðr is the great völva (even as Wodan is Fimbulþulr,
the great thule), it is thought today that hearts are the meat which is
holiest to Heiðr.

Snorri also tells us in Ynglinga saga that Freyja taught the art of seiðr
to the Ases; Thorsson sees this as an exchange whereby Freyja learned the
runes from Óðinn and he learned seiðr from her. In any case, the situation
is, again, comparable: as Wodan teaches the craft of the runes after his
initiation, so Freyja teaches the skill of seiðr after hers - not only to
the Ases, but, as Völuspá suggests, to humans as well.

The Frowe is married to a god called Óðr - the noun from which the
adjectival "Óðinn" is derived. The folklore of the Wild Hunt suggests that
"Wod" was an older form of the name *Woðanaz; de Vries also compares the
Óðr-Óðinn to the other surviving pair of noun-adjective forms, Ullr-Ullinn
("Contributions to the Study of Othin"). There is little doubt that Óðr and
Óðinn were the same god, although this identity seems to have been
forgotten by the end of the Viking Age; it is probably very old. The
wedding between Óðr and Freyja is, at the least, a very open one: the way
in which the Frowe is sought as a bride by etins suggests that she is
thought to be effectively single. Sörla þáttr describes her as Óðinn's
mistress, rather than his wife. The two of them clearly work together -
they mirror one another in many ways and share many of the same realms -
and both being quite sexual deities, it would be surprising if their
relationship was not shown forth as a sexual one. However, the Frowe seems
to be too independent to tie herself to any single male for long; though
she wandered weeping after Óðr when he left her, there is no doubt that
sexual faithfulness was never part of the arrangement.

The Frowe is also a battle-goddess: one of the names of her hall is
Folkvangr ("Army-Plain"), and there "Freyja rules the choices of seats in
the hall: she chooses half the slain every day, and Óðinn has half". It is
not sure whether by "choosing the slain", the Grímnismál speaker meant this
in the usual sense (as when used for the walkurjas, Wodan, and Hella) of
choosing who among the living warriors shall be slain in that battle, or
whether it means that the Frowe gets her choice of those among the fallen
who she wants for her hall. In either case, she is certainly a goddess of
death and specifically the battle-dead: the men she wants are clearly the
best of heroes. What she does with them is never told to us, whether they
fight beside the einherjar at Ragnarök or stay with Freyja, who may survive
the battle (in Ynglinga s. ch. 8, Snorri tells us that "Freyja then kept up
the blessings, for she alone lived after the gods", though since he has
euhemerized them all and given them very different deaths from those they
meet at Ragnarök, this may not be a reliable indicator). As seen in the
tale of Gullveigr, she is also a cause of strife as well: wealth and women
were two of the most common causes for fighting among the Germanic folks.
The two chief social roles of women in the Icelandic sagas were as
frith-weaver and strife-stirrer: Frija embodies the first, the Frowe the
second. Here, the Frowe and Fro Ing complement each other rather than
working in the same way: the Eddic poem Grottasöngr shows how the two,
strife and frith, need each other. When Fróði harnesses the etin-maids
Fenja and Menja to turn a magical mill, they grind out gold and frith and
happiness; but instead of letting them rest, he tries to keep them working
without pausing longer than it takes to sing a lay. Then the scales tip too
far: the women become angered and grind out battle and Fróði's death, and
the balance is evened again. The Frowe stirs up Fro Ing's frith; Fro Ing
stills her strife; thus challenge and rest are balanced out.

According to Snorri, the Frowe's hall is also called Sessrumnir,
"Roomy-Seated" - which it would need to be as a hall of the dead. As is not
hard to imagine, the sexes seem to mix freely in the Frowe's realm,
warriors and young women alike: when Egill Skalla-Grímsson's daughter
Þórgerðr tells of her intention to starve herself beside her grieving
father, she says that she will take no food until she sups with Freyja.

Like her brother, the Frowe has the swine as a holy animal, and rides on a
gold-bristled boar (hers is called Hildisvín, "Battle-Swine") which was
made by dwarves. The Yule boar is holy to her, as to him. One of the
Frowe's own by-names is Sýr, "Sow", which suggests not only her
fruitfulness and sexuality, but her more frightening side: the swine is,
after all, a carrion-eater, and sows are proverbially known for eating
their own piglets at times.

Like Frija, the Frowe travels through the worlds by putting on a
falcon-hide and faring forth in that shape. Though none of the myths show
her actually using it - we only know of it because she lends it to Loki -
the falcon seems to be the womanly match to the manly eagle (a shape taken
by Wodan and, quite often, by etins). This shows her swift-faring through
the worlds; the falcon is clearly a holy bird of hers, in her most active
shape when she is not only fiery, but ærial. Some of the birds of prey
which appear so often in Germanic art may be falcons rather than eagles,
but our forebears' art was so stylized that there is no way to tell which
is which; only the hooked beaks distinguish birds of prey in general.

The Frowe is also well-known to have a wain which is drawn by two cats.
Every so often the question of what sort of cats these were, or whether
they were actually felines and not some other creature, comes up. Grimm
mentions that the Old Norse word fres "means both he-cat and bear, it has
lately been contended, not without reason, that köttum may have been
subsituted for fressum, and a brace of bears have been really meant for the
goddess" (Teutonic Mythology, II, p. 669). It has also been suggested
several times that the image of Freyja in her cat-drawn wain was borrowed
from the southern Cybele, whose chariot was drawn by lions. There is also a
special connection between seiðr and cats: the seeress in Eiríks saga ins
rauða is described as wearing catskin gloves, which has spurred many people
to hope that the Old Norse word köttr, "cat", did not really mean cat.
Alternate suggestions have included bears (gib-cats), hares, and various
sorts of ermine- and weasel-type creatures. However, wild felines such as
the lynx have been native to Scandinavia at least since the earliest human
settlements, and the first skeletal evidence of house-cats dates from the
earlier part of the Iron Age (Scandinavian Saga, 131). Further, the burial
goods of "Queen Asa" (the Oseberg queen) include elaborately carved
vehicles (generally thought to be for cultic processions) on which
cat-images are carved. In one case, the sledge-posts are unquestionably
cat-heads; the end panel of the wagon shows a repeated picture of a cat who
is apparently fighting or dancing with a snake, while either shielding her
eyes with one paw or just revealing them (perhaps to awe the snake by her
gaze?). These cats are probably house-cats or small European wildcats, as
they do not have the tufted ears of the lynx. A little amber cat-figurine
was also found lately in the archaeological excavations at the late
Viking-Age site on Birka. All of this, particularly the cat-head posts from
Oseberg, suggest very strongly that there is every reason to think that the
belief is native rather than foreign, that Freyja's cats are indeed
house-cats - and so were the seeress' gloves. No names for these cats have
survived in any sources, but in her book Brisingamen (which is highly
recommended to all Ásatrúar, especially those interested in Freyja), Diana
Paxson suggests the names "Trégull" ("Tree-Gold", or amber) and "Býgull"
("Bee-Gold", or honey) for them. Some will be amused, and others appalled,
to note that certain less-reliable books on Norse heathenism are already
solemnly reporting these fictional names as part of authentic Teutonic
tradition...

The Frowe herself was known by other names in Scandinavia: Snorri gives us
the names Hörn (which is etymologically tied to "flax"), Sýr ("sow"), Gefn
("giver"), and Mardöll ("Sea-Brightness" - another name which may refer to
amber, or else to gold, which is often called "fire of the sea"). These
names are likeliest to have been local titles for either the Frowe or other
goddesses who were so like her that it made no difference.

The Frowe's stone is amber, a connection which may go back to early days.
Amber is especially beloved by Northern folk; it is "the gold of the
North". In our forebears' time, necklaces of amber were probably a status
symbol as much as anything; and even today at Teutonic rites, one can often
see women (and occasionally men) hung with as many strands of amber as they
are able to buy. Other stones which the name "Brísingamen" and the Frowe's
flame-being suggest are fire agates and fire opals; gold is clearly her
metal, if you can get it.

The elder-tree (whose very name means "fire") is especially close to her;
yarrow and dill, as traditional "witches' herbs" also belong to her. Her
flower is the rose, especially the Northern European wild rose or
"dog-rose". One Northern German church is supposed to have been built at
"Freyja's spring"; when the church was rebuilt after the last World War,
the roots of the dog-rose which had grown beside it were shown to be over a
thousand years old. The legend of "Freyja's spring" may have been a
romantic product of the eighteenth or nineteenth century, but the flower
itself surely shows her being, being both the sweetest and the thorniest of
blooms.

The Frowe is especially a goddess of women who do as they will and love as
they will without worrying about social constraints or anything else. More
than any other goddess, she shows the right of women to rule over their own
bodies, to love - or not love - as they choose. Indeed, according to
Þrymskviða, it was easier for the Ases to get Þórr to put on women's
clothing and go into Etin-Home as a bride than for them to make Freyja wed
against her will!

The necklace is the sign which is traditionally that of the Frowe's might,
though there is no one picture of it that stands as "her symbol". In A Book
of Troth, Thorsson suggests that "Freya's Heart (the basic heart-shape) is
the sign of the blessings of the goddess Freya, and is the symbol of those
given to her mysteries" (p. 112). This is extrapolated from the reading of
this symbol as showing the female genitals and/or buttocks: as the stylized
picture of womanly sexuality, the heart (with or without the phallic arrow
piercing it), is clearly fitting to the Frowe.

It is thought in modern times that the Frowe likes sweet drinks, especially
berry liqueurs and German wines of the Auslese, Beerenauslese, and
Trockenbeerenauslese class. One liqueur in particular, Danziger Goldwasser
(which has actual flakes of high-karat gold foil in it), is felt to be
especially fitting to her.

Contributors

Stephan Grundy, "Frigg and Freyja"

Alice Karlsdóttir, from "Freyja's Necklace", Mountain Thunder #10, pp.
21-22.

Diana Paxson (esp. Heiðr and cat-names)



Chapter XIX

Skaði, Gerðr, Earth, and other Etin-Brides

Skaði

Skaði, whose name means either "shadow" or "scathe", is one of the darker
goddesses of the North. She is not of godly kin, but the daughter of the
etin Thjazi, who stole Iðunn and her apples and was slain in eagle-shape by
the Ases while chasing Loki back. Still, not only is she counted among the
god/esses, but her hall in the mountains of Etin-Home, Þrymheimr
(Din-World), which she inherited from her father, is numbered among the
holy dwellings in Grímnismál 11. In the same verse, she is called the
"shining bride of gods", and the skald Þórðr Sjáreksson calls her "the wise
bride of gods". Although place-names show that she was widely worshipped in
elder days (see below), she is not called on as often now - partially
because there is little known about her, partially because her beauty is a
harsh one, and many folk find her less easy to love than Frija or the
Frowe. Those who do love her, however, see the starkest beauty of the
Northlands in her high and rocky fells, her shining ice and dark crags; to
some, the sound of her howling wolves and howling wind is the fairest of
all songs, and her ski-tracks through the snow the brightest of all paths
against the winter's long night.

There is a certain suggestion that Skaði's gender may have been ambiguous:
the name "Skaði" is a straightforward weak masculine form, which could very
easily and naturally have been changed to the weak feminine "Skaða", but
never was. "Skaði" also appears as a man's personal name in the first
chapter of Völsunga saga. It has been suggested that Skaði was first the
husband of Nerthus, changing sex when "Nerthus" became "Njörðr", but this
is by no means widely accepted. Turville-Petre comments that "Skaði, with
her armour and snowshoes and bow, has some of the features of a male god",
and compares her to Ullr, who shares her use of snowshoes and bow and is
particularly a hunting god (Myth and Religion, pp. 164-65).

Skaði is most easily seen as a goddess of winter: not only does she come
from the kin of the mountain- and rime-thurses, but our earliest skaldic
poem, Bragi inn gamli's Ragnarsdrápa, also calls Skaði öndurdís
("snowshoe-goddess"); and she is spoken of as "öndurgoð" (snowshoe-deity)
in Haustlöng and Háleygjatal. Snorri tells us in his Edda how she "fares
greatly on skies and with a bow, and shoots animals". The name of
Þrymheimr, which we know to be in the mountains, suggests the ceaseless
screaming of wind over the rocks as well as the howling of wolves; and
there are many mountains in Norway which are snow-capped all year, so that
we may guess that Skaði ever dwells where it is icy, but fares among humans
in wintertime.

The tale of Skaði and Njörðr has often been read as a nature-myth, in which
she embodies the ice and snow of winter and the the free-flowing waters of
summer; and their might can indeed be seen in these things. Here, however,
we must remember that most of the god/esses are not personifications of the
natural world, but rather, parts of the natural world are shaped by the
being of the god/esses and reflect the shiftings of their might.

Skaði's first appearance among the god/esses is as the Maiden Warrior: she
comes fully armed and armoured to avenge her father's death. Here she is
seen as very grim and fierce: when the Ases offer her weregild, the
impossible condition she asks is that they make her laugh. To achieve this,
Loki ties one end of a rope to a goat's beard and the other to his
bollocks, then starts a tug-o-war with the goat. Their antics and his
near-castration finally get Skaði to laugh; the latter aspect may also hint
that she was, indeed, specifically one of the "Mörnir" or etin-women to
whom the horse-phallus of Völsa þáttr (see "Fro Ing") was offered. Schröder
suggests that her original unwillingness (or inability) to laugh relates to
an aspect as death-goddess, for "according to Northern European tales, the
dead are not able to laugh" (Skadi und die Götter Skandinaviens, p. 25). He
also suggests that the goat may originally have been Skaði herself in
animal-form, claiming the sacrifice which causes her aspect to shift from
death-goddess to goddess of fruitfulness (pp. 25-28). As the goat is a
mountain beast, an independent wanderer, and an animal which is also
closely tied to traditional Yule rites in Scandinavia (see "Yule"), its
connection with Skaði is not wholly unbelievable, though one may or may not
choose to see the goddess in the goat itself. In Lokasenna, Loki claims to
have slept with her, which she does not deny; this may also be related to
the way in which he makes her laugh and thus brings her to be wedded.

Skaði's grimness is also seen in the prose tag to Lokasenna: when Loki has
been bound, it is she who, as a final torture, ties the snake above him to
drip bale onto his face. Her relationship with him is rather ambiguous: he
has been largely responsible for her father's death, and yet it is he who
makes her laugh so that she is willing to accept a wedding instead of the
blood of the slain as Thjazi's weregild, and claims to have shared her bed.
As her following torture of Loki suggests, her turning from death to
fruitfulness is not a permanent alteration in her character: like all the
god/esses, she can change her aspects at will and need.

Despite her seeming harshness and role as a goddess of winter, death, and
revenge, as well as her first appearance as Maiden Warrior, Skaði also has
a motherly side. Though no children were born of her wedding to Njörðr, we
see Skaði acting in a motherly way to Freyr in Skírnismál, and he is called
her son, though the term was probably used loosely to include "stepson",
which is the actual relationship. In addition to this, she is the only
goddess apart from Gerðr (see below) who is known to have been the mother
of a human dynasty. Snorri tells us in Ynglinga saga that after her
separation from Njörðr, she bore many sons to Óðinn. One of these sons,
according to the skaldic poem Háleygjatal, was Sæmingr, the father of the
Jarls of Hlaðir - an heroic line which, for several generations, staunchly
defended Norwegian Heathenism against all kingly efforts to convert the
land. His name may mean "son of the seed god"; which would suggest that the
bond between Skaði and Wodan has something to do with the working of the
Wild Hunt to make the fields fruitful; or it may mean "the grey one", which
would be a clear reference to the wolf - a beast holy to both of them.
Skaði's strong bond to her father is also worth marking: in addition to her
decision to avenge him, we see in Lokasenna that Loki's accusations against
her chastity distressed her far less than his boast that he was first among
the gods when they slew Thjazi. Skaði is clearly a goddess who cares
greatly for bonds of blood and troth, a warder of the kin; and in this
aspect, she should be called upon when the idises are hailed.

As far as we know, Skaði was not worshipped outside Scandinavia; it has
even been suggested that perhaps she was a Finnish or Lappish goddess whose
cult was taken over by the Norse. In fact, there is a Finnish goddess of
the wood and hunting, Mielikki, the wife of the hunting-god Tapio, but
whether she is the same being as Skaði is not known. It has also been
seriously put forth that the very name "Scandinavia" is derived from her
own, perhaps as "Island of Skaði"; this theory is not really accepted, but
has not really been disproven either (de Vries,Religionsgeschichte, p.
338). She was quite often worshipped; there are a good many "Skaði"
place-names, especially in mid- to eastern Sweden and southeastern Norway.
Most of these are of the "Skaði's vé" type, though "Skaði's grove" is also
seen a few times (de Vries, Altgermanische Religionsgeschichte, p. 339). In
Lokasenna 51, the goddess speaks of her rede coming from her wih-steads and
plains. The "plains" were probably holy fields, suggesting that she may
also have had something to do with fruitfulness. In this aspect, it is
possible that she may have been seen in the North as was Holda in Germany,
as the one who covers the earth with a blanket of snow to protect all that
sleeps in the ground through the winter; or it may, as with Gerðr, relate
to her cyclical character as the etin-goddess who shifts from being frozen
to being fruitful.

In the Kantelar (a collection of Finnish folk poetry made in the nineteenth
century), one song calls on the goddess Mielikki to lend luck to the hunter
and strew out her gifts for him, and another asks Tapio to guide the
hunter's skis. Schröder compares this Finnish pair to Skaði and Ullr
(Wuldor); he also suggests strongly that perhaps the two Norse deities were
originally brother and sister, children of Thjazi (Skaði, pp. 115-16). In
fact, we do not know who Wuldor's father is; only that his mother is Sif,
but his father is not Thonar, so (although there is no direct evidence for
it) this suggestion is as reasonable as any other, especially given the
close likeness between Skaði and Wuldor. If Skaði's name is taken as
"shadow", then the two of them also present a polar image of wintry
darkness and light, since Wuldor's name, "glory", implies brightness and
has sometimes been read as stemming from the glory of the Northern Lights.

Skaði is a goddess of hunters and hence of wild beasts as well. She is also
the goddess of skiers, and of those who dwell in or fare through the
mountains and wild places; she can be asked to help those who have to drive
on snow or ice. As a field-goddess, her feast is particularly that of
Disting/Charming of the Plough, when she accepts the gifts given to her and
the earth begins to unfreeze. Alice Karlsdottir also suggests calling on
Skaði and Njörðr together at the spring or autumnal equinoxes, when
"darkness and light are equal, and Njörðr and Skaði meet again at the
turning of the year".

Like the Frowe, Skaði is a goddess of independent women; she may be seen as
the especial patron of single mothers and of women who do things that are
usually specified as male by society (the modern equivalent of the Norse
Maiden Warrior).

She can also be called on as a goddess of justice. Though harsh, she is
fair; as we see, she was willing to accept weregild and be integrated into
godly society, rather than starting a blood-feud.

As the wild winter howler and hunter (as opposed to Wodan's
battlefield-scavenger) the wolf is thought of as Skaði's beast because of
Njörðr's complaints about the howling of the wolves in Þrymheimr. Her
possible relationship with the goat has already been spoken of. There are
no other animals given to her in traditional sources, but her father, like
many etins, was able to take eagle-shape and to use the wind of his wings
as a weapon in his flight; so there are some today who also see a dark
eagle as an image of this goddess.

In modern times, the stone associated with Skaði is the natural
(terminated) rock crystal, which is called "mountain crystal" in most of
the Germanic languages, and was known as "ice-stone" in Old High German.
Black serpentine, with its icy crystals against a dark matrix, is also
fitting for her.

For calling on Skaði, crystal cups (the "rime-cup" of the Eddas) are most
appropriate. It has been found that she is especially fond of iced vodka.

Colours associated with Skaði today are black and icy white.

Gerðr

Gerðr is Fro Ing's wife, an etin-maid won by the magical force of the god's
servant Skírnir. Skírnismál tells us that she was not willing to marry
Freyr: Skírnir tried to bribe her with golden apples and the ring Draupnir,
and threatened her with Freyr's sword, but she did not yield until he
brought a magical tine carved with three thurse-runes (thurisaz) against
her, threatening that if she would not have Freyr, he would curse her with
perversity and lust, and doom her to be the bride of a three-headed troll.
Then she welcomed Skírnir with a cup of mead, and said that she would be
wedded to Freyr in nine nights at the grove Barri.

The most usual reading of this myth is as a nature-myth: Gerðr is the
frozen winter earth, whose hard crust must be broken by the "shining"
Skírnir so that she can be sown and made fruitful. The name Hrímgerðr -
"Ice-Gerðr" - appears for a troll-woman in "Helgakviða Hjörvarðssonar",
suggesting a contrast between the icy and the fruitful Gerðr. Her name is
related to the word "garth", the fenced enclosure; from this, it has been
taken that she has something to do with land which is settled and fenced
in. The name of the grove where Freyr and Gerðr marry is Barri, which may
either mean "barley-field" or "coniferous wood" (Simek, Dictionary, p. 32);
the first reading matches better with the understanding of the tale as a
fruitfulness-myth, the second with the poem's description of the place as a
grove (lundr). In the latter case, the fruitfulness of Freyr and Gerðr
would not only be that of the fields, but of the whole earth, both the wild
and the tame lands. Skírnismál is one of the Eddic poems which is likeliest
to have been the script for a ritual drama, as Bertha Philpotts suggests;
it might have been done every year at ploughing time, mirroring the might
of the goddess and god as the plough breaks the earth's soil.

Paul Bibire has read Skírnir's curse on Gerðr as being rooted in her own
nature: all the things he threatens her with are characteristic for
troll-women. As an embodiment of the might of the earth, she can choose to
become fruitful as Freyr's wife, or she can choose to be barren, and
therefore be a dwelling for trolls and the worst of wights.

The wooing of Gerðr can also be seen as an inversion of that of Skaði:
Skaði is thawed by Loki's symbolic self-castration; Gerðr, by the symbolic
rape of Skírnir's thurse-runes. The one etin-maid takes the gift of
fruitfulness willingly; the other, because she must. If one were to read
Völsa þáttr as a purely spiritual work, one might perhaps compare them to
the two young women who pick up the völsi in turn: one is eager for it, the
other takes it only out of need. Eventually, however, both "Mörnir" do
receive the blessing, and the earth becomes fruitful.

In Det hellige Bryllup og norrøn Kongeideologie, Gro Steinsland reads the
tale as also being closely tied to the ideology of Norse kingship. She sees
the apples, ring, and magical stick as emblems of kingship; the threats
Gerðr suffers as stemming from the belief that the king is the conqueror of
his land as well as its warder and tender. Thus, Skírnismál shows not only
the holy wedding of the god with the earth, but also of the king with his
country (which is likewise needful to make it fruitful). She also points
out that this mating, like that of Óðinn and Skaði, brings forth not a god,
but the first man of an earthly dynasty - Fjölnir, the first of the
Ynglings, a line which was particularly thought of as being holy. From the
blending of gods and etin-maids can come not only gods (such as Wodan,
Thonar and his two sons by Járnsaxa, and several others), but also the
rulers who, as ritual leaders and sometimes sacrifices, bring the might of
the god/esses forth in the Middle-Garth.

Gerðr is not seen in any other myths: even after her wedding she seems to
have little to do with the other god/esses. No signs of a cult of hers have
survived: as an embodiment of the earth, she is a goddess to be honoured,
especially at Disting when the year begins to near the doors of summer
again and the world recreates the myth of her wooing, but she is not
otherwise called upon, except generally with the other goddesses of
fruitfulness. It is, however, thought by some in modern times that one
cause of natural disasters and bad harvests is Gerðr's anger at being
forgotten.

The colours associated with Gerðr today are deep red and deep brown.

Earth (Jörð - ON, Erda - Wagner)

Earth is the mother of Thonar, the daughter of the goddess Night and her
husband Annarr ("the Second"). She has several other names - Fjörgyn,
Hlóðynn, Fold, and Grund. The latter three simply mean "earth"; the first
may possibly be related to an early Germanic thunder-god (see discussion of
the manly "Fjörgynn" in the chapter on Frija).

We know that she was first made out of the corpse of the hermaphroditic
etin Ymir; from this, perhaps, it can be understood that Ymir's
dismemberment was also a separation into manly and womanly elements. It
might be possible to reach out from this to the reading that Earth's male
counterpart could possibly be Ægir, the etin of the sea (which was Ymir's
blood, as the Earth was his body), though this leans out into the realm of
speculation.

There is not a great deal of evidence for the worship of the personified
Earth, but some traces have lived on. In one of our few surviving Norse
prayers, the "Hail to Day" from Sigrdrífumál, the awakened Sigrdrífa calls
on Day and Day's sons, Night and her kinswoman, and "the greatly-helpful
Earth". She names these wights together with, and apparently as equals to,
the "Æsir and Ásynjur". The description fjölnýta is difficult to translate
simply; the latter element means generally, "helpful, good-bringing,
enjoyable", and appears in Saxon English as the verb nytte.

The Anglo-Saxon charm "Æcerbot" ("Field-Ceremonies", also called "Charming
of the Plough"), a sketchily christianized fruitfulness-rite, includes the
strange line, "Erce, Erce, Erce, eorþan modor". The phrase "Erce, mother of
earth" is confusing, and the name itself resists philological analysis; but
since the next lines are, "May the all-ruling, eternal drighten grant you
fields waxing and thriving, flourishing and bountiful, bright shafts of
millet-crops, and of broad barley-crops, and of white wheat-crops, and of
all the earth's crops," it seems the most reasonable guess that the first
line was originally meant to be a call to Mother Earth, accidentally or
deliberately garbled. Slightly later in the charm, a very clear call to her
is spoken: "Hail to thee, Folde ("earth"), mother of men! Be thou growing
in god's embrace, filled with food for men to enjoy". The last verb, nytte,
is cognate to the Old Norse nýta (see above); one can see the general idea
as expressing the way our Germanic forebears saw the Earth. The whole charm
is, in fact, a model for the Northern relationship to the Earth: humans are
responsible for helping to bring the god/esses' blessings to her, for
hailing her and making gifts to her in thanks, and for carefully tending
her fields and lands.

The loop of turf which was cut whole with each end still attached to the
earth and carefully raised for men to creep under as part of the
blood-brotherhood oath was called "Earth's necklace". There are also
several references in the Eddas to the "main of the Earth" as being one of
the greatest of strengths; it is clear that Thonar gets a great deal of his
might from his mother. Eysteinn Valdason (a skald writing ca. 1000) called
the Middle-Garth's Wyrm "Earth's Girdle", and we will also remember the
little goddess of the Bronze Age who rode in a ship with a leashed wyrm
beside her.

Gríðr

This etin-frowe is the mother of the god Víðarr, whom Wodan begot to be his
own avenger. Though never counted among the goddesses, she is especially
friendly to the gods. When Loki had tricked Thonar into going to the
Outgarth without his hammer, she gave the god lodgings, warned him about
the giant Geirröðr, and also gave him a girdle of might, iron gauntlets,
and the staff Gríðavölr (Gríðr's magical staff), with which he was able to
ward himself against all the attacks of Geirröðr and his daughters. As
discussed further under "Thonar", these items are typical for Icelandic
witches, and indeed for certain shamanic practices. Gríðr can thus be seen
as an initiator and helper for those who must deal with the might of the
etins and the sundry wights of the Outgarth.

Járnsaxa

Járnsaxa, whose name means "Iron Knife", is an etin-woman and Thonar's
concubine, the mother of his two sons Móði and Magni who shall inherit his
Hammer after Ragnarök. It may seem more than a little strange that Thonar,
of all gods, should be the lover of an etin-woman; but Járnsaxa is called
"Sif's Rival", so she must be very fair indeed. She must also be very
strong: at three years old, her son Magni could lift a weight that none of
the other gods could manage.

Bestla

The etin-mother of Óðinn, Vili, and Vé (or Óðinn, Hoenir, and Lódurr). Her
father is Bölthorn (Bale-Thorn). She has a brother, who taught Wodan nine
mighty songs; Hollander suggests that this brother may have been Mímir.
This reading is supported by the fact that, according to Ynglinga saga,
Óðinn sent Mímir together with his own brother as a hostage to the Vanir,
implying at least the possiblity of a blood relationship.

The etymology of her name is difficult: the likeliest reading connects it
with "bark" (Simek, Dictionary, p. 36), and de Vries also suggests, among
other things, the possibility that she may have been a yew-goddess
(Wörterbuch, p. 34).

Angrboda

Loki's horrible wife (as opposed to his good wife Sigyn). Her name means
"the one who brings grief"; the "Völuspá hin skamma" section of
"Hyndluljóð" tells us that she and Loki got the Wolf Fenrir together, and
Snorri also adds the Middle-Garth's Wyrm and Hel as their children.
Possibly the best summary of her character is that given by Alice
Karlsdottir in one of her many verses for "That Old-Time Religion":

"Angrboda is voracious,

And her children are hellacious,

I guess Loki's just salacious,

And that's good enough for me!"

Needless to say, the only use for Angrboda in a religious or ritual context
is the listing of her name among those of ill-willing wights whose might
one wants to banish.

Contributors

Alice Karlsdóttir, from "Njörðr and Skaði: the Marriage of Light and
Darkness", Mountain Thunder 7, pp. 19-21.

Diana Paxson

Laurel Olsen and the other women of Hrafnar




Chapter XX

Idises (dísir)

"Idis" originally seems to have meant "atheling-woman". There is considerable doubt as to whether it is actually the same word as the Old Norse dís; the loss of the initial vowel is impossible to account for, but since the use is so similar, those who prefer English or general Germanic terms use "idis" instead of the Old Norse word.

In the singular, the word itself is very general in meaning. Both "idis" (or Anglo-Saxon "ides") and dís are applied to human women, womanly ghosts, goddesses, and figures such as Grendel's mother and Hel; in skaldic kennings, someone's dís is their kinswoman, whether living or dead. As a name-element, this word was very common, especially in Old Norse (Freydís, Ásdís, Þórdís, Hjördís, and the very rare Óðindís) but also on the Continent (Agedisus, Disibod, Tiso). The walkurjas are described as "Herjans dísir" (Óðinn's idises - Guðrúnarkviða I) as well as "Herjans nönnur" (Óðinn's women - Völuspá 30).

Although the plural term is most often used specifically for the dead women of the clan who still guard their descendants and help them in various ways, it can also speak of living women; the two have basically the same might, though the dead ones, dwelling wholly in the hidden realms, are thought of as stronger in matters of magic. The Old High German "Erste Merseburger Zauberspruch" gives us a clear picture of one of the things they do:

"Once the idises sat, sat here and there.

Some fastened fetters, some loosened fetters,

some plucked at chains;

spring the chains free! the fighters come out."

In Wealtheow and the Valkyrie Tradition, Damico tried very hard to prove that this might of fettering and loosing characterized a number of Germanic women as valkyries, and ended up showing either that it was a typical power of Germanic women, or that all mighty Northern females, including christian heroines such as Juliana, had originally been valkyries.

The idises also take part in battle in other ways. The women of the Helgi lays, Sváva and Sigrún (who are probably of the special type called "spae-idis" - see "Soul, Death, and Rebirth"), ride over air and water to ward their beloved Helgis in war. In Helgakviða Hundingsbana I, Helgi sees Sigrún and her troop of "southern dísir" in bloody byrnies with flashing lances after his battle with Hunding's sons; she also wards his fleet through a storm so that they come safely into the harbour. Helgakviða Hjörvarðssonar tells how Sváva is Helgi's unseen protector when the troll-woman Hrimgerðr attacks his ship, and also shows the troop of idises as bringers of fruitfulness: "(Their) steeds whinnied; from their manes fell dew in deep dales, hail in high woods, and thence comes good harvest to men." The battle-aspects of these women have often been taken as support for the prose identification of them as walkurjas. However, Germanic women typically went to the battlelines to encourage their men, and it is very likely that those who were skilled in magic also helped their beloveds in that way, faring forth to do battle unseen above the heads of the warriors. This seems to be more a trait of Teutonic womanhood in general than something specifically associated with the cult of Wodan, as the walkurja certainly is. As seen below in the story of Þiðrandi, family idises also appear as mounted warriors, even being mighty enough to slay men in the Middle-Garth.

Two of the greatest clan-idises were Þórgerðr and Irpa, idises of the Jarls of Hlaðir, who had their own statues "as big as a man with gold ring on arm and head-dress on head" (Njáls saga ch. 88), the fulltruar (fully-trusted; that is, patron deities of) the Jarl Hákon. In his battle against the Jómsvíkings, Hákon made a sacrifice to these goddesses, whereupon a sudden storm came out of the north, in which Þórgerðr and Yrpa appeared with arrows flying out of their fingertips; and this was the chief decisive factor in the battle. Þórgerðr's statue, together with that of Freyr's, was singled out for special abuse by Óláfr Tryggvason when he came to destroy the hof at Trondheim.

The idises help in birthing: Sigrdrífa counsels Sigurðr, as part of a midwife's skills, to "bid the idises aid". They are quite likely to be the wights that Snorri describes in his Edda as the norns who come to every child when it is born to speak its doom - "some of the ætt of Ases, some of the ætt of alfs, some are daughters of Dvalinn (dwarves)". He adds that "Good norns of fine kin shape good lives; but those folk who have ill-shaping, that is ruled by ill norns". This seems to be closely tied to the belief in the luck of the clan, which the idises may perhaps have been seen as passing to the child at birth (or name-giving):

Unlike walkurjas, idises were widely worshipped. It is likely that, as with the alfs, the belief in the clan-mothers goes back to the eldest times. However, the oldest surviving examples we have of a cult specifically dealing with the "Mothers" comes from the Roman occupation of the western banks of the Rhine. There are a number of little clay figures and stone votive sculptures showing three women with (usually) crescent head-dresses and baskets of fruit, cornucopiae, or suckling children sitting in a row. All of these bear inscriptions identifying them as the "Matronen". Many of the "Matronen" inscriptions are identified by tribe: "Suebian Mothers", "Germanic Mothers", "paternal Frisian Mothers"; others' names show them to be warders or gift-givers (Simek, Dictionary, pp. 204-08).

In Ynglinga saga and Heiðreks saga, a dísarsalr (idis' hall) is spoken of. It is a place for sacrifice of various sorts. The king Aðils falls off his horse and dies in the idis' hall, and one of Heiðrekr's wives hangs herself there. The death of Aðils is especially interesting, as it is attributed to a witch; it is possible that, as with the story of Þiðrandi (discussed below), the attendant idis chose her own sacrifice.

As well as being protectors, idises also come to claim their kin when it is time for the living to die. Before Gunnarr begins his ill-fated faring to the hall of the Huns, his wife dreams that "Dead women came hence in the night; they were mourning-clad, and wished to choose thee, bidding you swiftly to their benches...they were your dísir" ("Atlamál in groenlenzco" 28).

The best-known story of the idises is that from Kristni þáttr in Óláfs saga Tryggvasonar (Flateyjarbók). At a certain Winternights feast, a man called Þórhallr had an ill boding that someone should die that night, and said that no one should go out. But when most folk were asleep there was a knock at the door. Þiðrandi "took sword in hand and went out. He saw no one....he went then under the woodpile and heard riders galloping from the north. He saw that there were nine women and they were all in black clothes and had drawn swords in their hands. He also heard riders galloping from the south; they were also nine women all in light clothes on white horses. Then Þiðrandi wanted to turn inside and tell folk of it. Then the black-clad women came forward and attacked him, but he warded himself well and manfully. Some time afterward þórhallr woke up and asked if Þiðrandi was awake, and he was not answered. Þórhallr said, "Then you must have over-slept." Then they went out. There was moonshine and frost-weather. They found Þiðrandi lying wounded and he was borne in. And when folk had words with him he said all that had happened. He died at dawn that same morning and was laid in a howe according to the old custom of Heathen folk". Þórhallr then interprets the events as meaning that a new custom should come to the land, and says, "I expect that your dísir which have followed this old faith have now learned of this changing of customs and that they shall be forsaken by their kin. Now they must not want to have no share from you before they part from you and they must have (taken) this as their part. But the better dísir must have wanted to help him and were not able to do so as things stood."

Like Þiðrandi, Gísli Súrsson (Gísli the Outlaw) had two draumkonur (dream-women) who came to him, the better one giving him advice and the other one threatening. Shortly before his death, he dreamed that the second one came and washed him in blood; and after that he had such a fear of the dark that he could not dare to be alone. Again, the author of the saga gave the tale a slightly christian slant, but the basic belief in a bright idis helping and guarding and a dark idis calling towards death is probably heathen in origin. Part of Óðinn's doom-speech, as he reveals himself to Geirroðr at the end of Grímnismál, is "(your) dísir are foelike - now you shall see Óðinn!" (that is, die). In Reginsmál, the god counsels his hero Sigurðr, "That is very dangerous if your foot drops (if you stumble) when you go to do battle. Betraying dísir stand at your two sides and wish to see you wounded." In his extensive bracteate studies, Karl Hauck has interpreted some of the animal figures, especially the bird-headed snake-monsters that appear to be threatening a rider on Tulstrup-C and Dannau-C, as showing just such ill-willing idises ("Fünens besonderer Anteil", pp. 120-27), which he sees as causing Balder's horse to stumble and be wounded as may be described in the Second Merseburger Charm (see "Balder").

Chiefly, however, the idises are helpful to their kin. Little is shown of their actual workings, except for one saga in which the family idis afflicts a kinsman with various illnesses to keep him from walking into an ambush that would otherwise have been fatal. We thus know that they have foresight (the word spádísir is used in Völsunga saga to describe Sigmundr's battle-protectresses in his final fight); to those who can hear them, they give warnings or advice. The special association of their worship with Winternights (mentioned in Víga-Glúms saga and Heiðreks saga) suggests that they are also goddesses of fruitfulness, probably in regards both to humans and their lands and cattle.

As well as having their own halls or hofs, the idises also had holy stones in which they dwelt. The Norwegian Disahrøys (stone-pile of the dísir) suggests that harrows of rocks were built to these wights. This is very like the "harrow...of heaped stones" (Hyndluljóð 10) which Óttarr, who "trusted ever...in the ásynjur" built for Freyja; though such harrows were probably not exclusive to womanly wights, they do seem to have been thought very fitting.

The Frowe is called "Vanadís", idis of the Wans. This has often been taken to show that she is the leader of the idises or the great idis, but given the general usage of the word to mean "kinswoman", this reading is probably excessive. However, as Fro Ing is the lord of Alf-Home, and it is likely that the idises and alfs are womanly and manly clan-ghosts of the same sort, it seems clear that his sister should have a similar tie with the idises, and be called on when they are called, as is the usual custom of the true today.

Together with the Frowe/Fro-idis/alf pairings, there is also reason to think of a Frija/Wodan-idis/alf connection. The reference to Óðinn as being the god who will be angered by a christian at the álfablót in Sigvatr's Austrafaravísur, as discussed under "Alfs", suggests strongly that he has a part in the cult of those wights as well. As the realm of the dead, especially the ancestors and the mound-dead, is the area in which Wodan and Fro Ing overlap most and work most closely together, this is hardly surprising. Frija and her goddesses could also be called "the idises"; the motherly character of the dísir, especially when the cult of the Matronen is thought on, seems to bring them at least as much into Frija's realm as the Frowe's.

In A Book of Troth, Thorsson offers a "Blessing of the Dises" in which several of the different women's personal names with the "dís" element are used in a call to the idises (p. 168). Here we offer a short list from which folk can put together such a call. Those slightly familiar with Old Norse can also easily generate their own idis-names/descriptions; such created forms have been marked with an * here.

*Árdís - harvest-idis

Ásdís - Ase-idis

*Barnadís - idis of children

*Eplidís - apple-idis

Freydís - Freyr's idis or Freyja's idis (forms would have been identical in ON)

Herdís - army-idis

Hjálmdís - helm-idis

Hjördís - sword-idis

Jódís - horse-idis (note: used for Hel)

*Móðirdís - mother-idis

Óðindís - Óðinn's idis (only found twice, on late Swedish runestones - may have been a cultic title, but more likely formed after the other god-idis compounds)

*Sigrdís - victory-idis

Spádís - prophecy-idis (used as a descriptive rather than personal name)

Úlfdís - wolf-idis

Valdís - slain-idis

Vanadis - idis of the Wans (the Frowe)

Vigdís - battle-idis

Þórdís - Þórr's idis

*Ættardís - clan's idis





Chapter XXI

Walkurjas (Valkyrjur, walkyriges, valkyries)

In modern times, the Walkurja has become one of the best-known figures of
Northern spirituality (with a little help from Richard Wagner). The roles
of the walkurjas that we see in our forebears' literature are several.
Firstly, they ride out to the battlefield as Wodan's representatives to
choose who shall die; this is the meaning of the name "walkurja". Secondly,
they bear drink to Wodan and the einherjar in Walhall; their images on the
Gotlandic picture stones suggest that they are especially responsible for
giving the horn of welcome to the newly slain. Thirdly, they may also be
responsible for raising the dead on Walhall's plain and healing them so
that they may slay each other again and again till Ragnarök.

The oldest recorded uses of the word are in Anglo-Saxon, where "wælcyrge"
is often used to gloss various Classical terms such as the names of the
Furies and Bellona: in The Wonders of the East, gorgoneus is translated as
wælcyrging, and mention is made of beasts which "have eight feet, and
walkyries' eyes, and two heads". These, particularly the former, might be
taken as speaking of the walkurjas' magical power of paralyzation
(battle-fetter); they certainly strengthen the image of the walkurja as a
frightening figure.

In modern times, the term "valkyrja" has often been used for the Higher
Self, the warder of the soul and the shining bride with whom the
consciousness seeks to be wedded, especially by Edred Thorsson (FUTHARK),
and, following him, Kveldulf Gundarsson (Teutonic Magic; Teutonic
Religion). This has caused much difficulty: since the walkurja is so
closely associated with the cult of Óðinn, it seems difficult, if not
impossible, for followers of other god/esses to call their own Higher
Selves "valkyrjur". Gundarsson has suggested (Teutonic Religion) that
perhaps the followers of other deities could assume manifestations of their
own god/ess along the model of the valkyrja, but known by more fitting
names (for instance, "Þrúðmaiden" for worshippers of Thonar). Likewise,
those who interpret the walkurja/Higher Self as incorporating some of
Jung's concept of the anima are baffled by the problem of women's
relationship to this figure.

The concept of the walkurja as Shining Bride and Higher Self is based
wholly on Sigrdrífumál and the Helgi poems. In the former, however, the
walkurja is specifically sentenced to be married to Sigurðr as part of her
disgrace. She has disobeyed Óðinn by choosing the wrong man to die, and so
she is no longer a walkurja: she must enter the ordinary realm of women as
a wife. Even in Völsunga saga, Brynhildr is not called valkyrja, only
skjaldmær, "shield-maiden. In the Helgi-poems, the woman is only called a
valkyrja in the prose (which was probably added by the scribe, long after
the conversion of Iceland and the composition of the poems); in the poetry
itself, she is only ever referred to as a dís. It can also be mentioned
that, although Sigrún is able to ride over air and water to ward the living
Helgi, while she lives herself, she is not able to follow the dead Helgi to
Valhöll - hardly consistent with those women who are actually called
valkyrjur, who fare to and from that hall in the course of doing Wodan's
will (Hákonarmál) and bear drink to the heroes inside. In the actual
poetry, the word "valkyrja" is used only in Helgakviða Hundingsbana I, and
there it is an insult: Sinfjötli accuses Guðmundr of having been a harmful
walkurja "with All-Father", awefull and ill-willing, who set all the
einherjar to fighting her battles. Likewise, Sigrún is not called
"valkyrja" in Völsunga saga, although the compiler knew the Helgi lays.
Neckel suggests that this ommission is due to an earlier perception of the
valkyrja as a frightful being, which made the term inappropriate for
application, so that Sigrún and Sváva were not originally conceived of as
valkyries. The same holds true for the swan-maidens of Völundarkviða: both
the term "valkyrjur" and the association of the swan-women with battle
appear only in the prose, not the poetry, while the theme of the
animal-bride who is happily married to a human man for several years, but
then reclaims her beast-hide and leaves him, is very widespread and has
nothing to do with walkurjas. In one of our oldest skaldic poems, Þórbjörn
hornklofi's Hrafnsmál (ca. 900), which is also the first recorded ON usage
of the word "valkyrja", it is specifically stated that the woman speaking
to the raven is a wise valkyrja who understands bird-speech, to whom no man
is dear. The belief in a womanly soul-warder, bride, and "Higher Self"
should not be forgotten - it will be spoken of further under "Idises" and
"Soul, Death, and Rebirth" - but it is probably incorrect to give that
being the name "walkurja".

The arguments against seeing the walkurja as being essentially the hero's
higher self and bride also stand against the idea of seeing human women as
walkurjas. Today, it is quite common either to describe any strong woman
(especially warrior-women) as a "valkyrie", or to use the word for the
woman who bears the horn about at holy rites. The shield-maiden or Maiden
Warrior is, indeed, a mighty figure of Germanic literature (and probably
life in the old days, and certainly life now!), but there is no
justification for identifying her with the wild wights who ride above the
battlefield to choose men's death and doom the battle's outcome. There were
probably human women who practiced magical arts to take part in battle in
this manner, as is discussed under "Idises", but they are unlikely to have
been universally followers of Wodan. Whereas the few surviving instances of
"valkyrja" in Old Norse poetry, with the exception of Hrafnsmál where the
walkurja is actually interrogating a raven (a bird defined in skaldic
kennings almost exclusively, and interchangeably, by the names of Óðinn and
the valkyrjur) about a man who is probably an Óðinn-hero (Haraldr inn
hárfagri), not only explicitly connect these women with Óðinn, but show
them as being wholly spiritual beings. Wulfstan's Sermo Lupi ad Anglos
(C.E. 1014), which puts "wiccan ond wælcyrian" together with murderers,
kinslayers, and fornicators as destructive influences upon the nation, does
hint at a belief in human walkurjas; however, Wulfstan also emphasizes a
euhemeristic interpretation of the Heathen gods in De Falsis Deis. This,
applied to walkurjas, could reasonably turn the battle-spirits into human
sorceresses. If the supernatural walkurjas were generally seen as partaking
in Wodan's magical practises, as the name-pair Göndul/Göndlir suggests,
this could also have blurred the distinction between spirit and sorceress
in the christian cleric's eyes.

As bearers of the horn in Walhall, the walkurjas are the Wodanic mirroring
of the normal womanly role: as a drighten's hall must have the
atheling-frowes, his wife and daughters, bearing drink to the ruler and his
thanes, so Walhall must have fitting women doing this honour to the god and
his einherjar, as in Eiríksmál, when he bids "walkurjas bear drink, as if a
prince came". Despite the reading usually given to the little Viking Age
pendants of horn-bearing women from Sweden, however, this does not mean
that all women bearing drink are walkurjas - though those who appear on the
Gotlandic picture stones as holding the horn up to a rider on an
eight-legged horse, with a great hall behind them in front of which a fight
is going on, almost certainly are. However, carrying the horn about at a
holy feast or offering a greeting-drink to a guest was one of the most
usual activities of the Germanic woman, from the free farmer's hut to the
halls of the god/esses. At a blessing made to Wodan alone, the horn-bearing
woman might be thought to play the part of the walkurja in his hall; but at
other rites, this would hardly seem fitting.

As the Norse and English sources show them to us, the walkurjas are figures
of awe and even terror, who delight in the deaths of men. As battlefield
scavengers, they are very close to the ravens, who are described as
wælceasega, "picking over the dead", in the Old English interpretive
translation of Exodus, and the good Prof. Tolkien suggests that the
valkyrie-word "derived partly from the actual carrion-birds of battle,
transformed in mythological imagination" (Exodus, p. 50). The steed of the
walkurja, like that of the frightful troll-woman of Haralds saga
Sigurðarsonar (Heimskringla) who gloats over the dead and feeds corpses to
her mounts while claiming the blood for herself, is the wolf; the Rök Stone
speaks of "where Gunnr's horse sees food on the battlefield, twenty kings
who lie there". Gunnr ("Battle") is one of the most typical walkurja-names;
others include Skögul (either "Forward-Striker" or "The Raging"), Hlökk
("Shrieker"), Göll ("Loud" - cf. Óðinn names Göllnir, Göllorr, Göllungr),
and Herfjötur ("Battle-Fetter"). In Darraðarljóð, a man sees these women
weaving in a womanly way - but they are weaving human guts, with human
heads as the weights, a sword for the beater and an arrow for the shuttle.
This poem is associated with the Battle of Clontarf (1016), so it is likely
to be Heathen in conception.

As spoken of under "Wodan", the walkurjas can best be seen as the womanly
reflections of Wodan: they do his work and share in all his crafts and
being. This is a narrower role than the word "valkyrie" has held in Ásatrú
until now, but one better-founded. It also deals with the vexing question
of why a part of the soul which all human beings share - the "Higher Self"
- should have been thought to be so strongly associated with one god, and
not the most widely beloved god at that: the answer is that after the
Heathen period, the term was applied widely and romantically by the
antiquarian scribes writing down the Eddic poems.

Contributors

KveldúlfR Gundarsson, "The Valkyrie in the Cult of Óðinn", Idunna.




Chapter XXII

Alfs, Dwarves, Land-Wights, and Huldfolk

The word alf (álfr, elf) is used for many sorts of wight: not only the
Light Alfs, Dark Alfs (mound-elves), and Swart Alfs that Grimm separates
out of German folklore and the Norse sources, but also different sorts of
land-wights (wood-elves, mountain-elves, field elves, water-elves, and
sea-elves). In the Troth, we usually speak of the Light Alfs and Dark Alfs
as alfs, the Swart Alfs as dwarves, and the rest of them as land-wights.

The alfs are clearly a holy folk; the alliterative phrase "Ases and alfs"
is often used in the Poetic Edda. The question, "What is (the trouble?)
among Ases? what is among alfs?" is also asked in Þrymskviða 7, hinting
that the happenings of the two are closely bound. The phrase "at ganga
álfrek" (Eyrbyggja saga ch. 4), literally "to go drive out the elves",
meant to relieve oneself, which fits in with the general belief, also
described in Eyrbyggja saga, that excreting on holy ground defiled it -
this, again, hints that the alfs and the god/esses go closely together.
This likening also, as Turville-Petre points out, appears in the
Anglo-Saxon charm "Against a Sudden Pain" in which the phrases "shot of
Ases...shot of alfs...shot of hags" appear together (Myth and Religion, p.
230) - though the context of the charm suggests rather that the Ases had
sunk to a level where they could be counted together with witches and
lesser spiritual wights than that the alfs were seen as godly beings at the
time the charm was composed. Of the Light and Dark Alfs themselves we see
nothing in the Eddas; it is only the dwarves who seem to take part in myth.

The word "alf" is likeliest to stem from a root meaning "white", with the
various suggestions of "gleaming" (as in the Anglo-Saxon man's name
Ælfbeorht - "alf-bright" and adjective ælfsciene - "beautiful as an alf"),
and "white mist-form" (de Vries, Wörterbuch p. 5). The latter reading may
be tied to the mysterious Nibelungen ("mist-folk" - ON Níflungar), who are
a supernatural tribe in the first part of Nibelungenlied but whose name is
also attached to the Burgundian royal house in the later half of the poem
and in the Norse materials, perhaps through the character of Hagen/Högni,
whom Þiðreks saga tells us was the son of an alf.

The alfs had a very strong cult in the Viking Age; the Winternights feast
was sometimes called álfablót (as well as dísablót and Freysblót). When the
skald Sigvatr, a christian converted by Óláfr inn digri, came to a
farmhouse in late autumn, he was told that he could not enter because the
Alf-Blessing was being celebrated - as a christian, he was presumably
unwelcome at the family's holy feast. We do not know what sort of alfs were
being hailed at this blessing, though, as spoken of later, it is likeliest
to have been the mound-alfs. Interestingly, although the alfs are usually
thought of as being tied to the Wanic cult, Sigvatr tells us that the
housewife told him "I am afraid of Óðinn's wrath" (Austrfararvísur, ca.
1019 C.E.), suggesting that Wodan, also, had a special relationship with
them. Since Sigvatr was a first-generation convert, he is not likely to
have confused Wodan with another god, or used the name without reason.

In his Edda Snorri tells us that the Light Alfs are bright and shining,
very fair to look upon, which fits well with the first reading of the
word's etymology. The Sun is also called "álfröðull" (Glory of the Alfs),
which seems to fit largely with the Light Alfs, as neither the Dark Alfs
nor dwarves care for her light; according to Alvíssmál, the alfs also name
the Sun "Fair Wheel". These alfs are closely tied to Fro Ing, the lord of
Álfheimr; as airy and bright wights, they may help in the bringing of fair
weather. Grimm comments that, "Of the dwellings of light elves in heaven
the folk-tales have no longer anything to tell" (Teutonic Mythology, II, p.
454). It is also possible that the term "Light Alf" may have been a synonym
for "god/ess", with "alf" being used poetically as a broad term for
"spiritual being". In modern times, the Light Alfs are sometimes seen as
messengers for the god/esses, bringing might down from the Ases' Garth to
the Middle Garth.

We know far more about the Dark Alfs, or mound-alfs, than about the other
two sorts. It is clear from both Norse sources and Scandinavian folklore
that the Dark Alfs are dead folk, especially those ghosts dwelling in the
howe. One of the many Norwegian kings named Óláfr, after his burial, was
thought to bring fruitfulness and good to his kingdom even from the howe,
and therefore was called "Geirstaðaálfr", the Elf of Geirstaðr. Indeed, the
Old Norse word álfkarl (male elf) was taken over in Irish as alcaille,
"ghost of the dead" (de Vries, Wörterbuch, p. 6). In Hávamál, when Óðinn is
speaking of those who teach runes to the various folks, he says, "Óðinn
among the Æsir, but Dáinn for the alfs, Dvalinn for the dwarves..." The
name "Dáinn", also a dwarf-name, simply means "Dead One".

Since the worship of the mound-dead has been carried out from the Stone Age
onward, the cult of the alfs is one of the oldest strands in the weave of
the elder Troth. From the oldest times, that worship has been characterized
by the offering of food and drink to the howe-dwellers. In Kormáks saga, it
is told how a badly wounded man was instructed to put the blood and flesh
of a steer on a hill in which the alfs dwelt. Gifts of food and drink put
on the howe nearest the house at holy times, especially Yule, were known up
through modern times (Feilberg, Jul, II, p. 20); it is quite likely that in
older days this was done whenever there was need. In the Bronze Age, many
holy stones were marked with small round depressions, now called alf-cups;
till modern times, again, offerings were poured or set into these little
holes in the rock. Those true folk of today who do not live near Germanic
Heathen howes can chip or grind small cup-shaped depressions into whatever
rocks are near their homes so as to make offerings of a like sort to the
alfs.

Turville-Petre suggests that the álfar may have been manly counterparts to
the womanly dísir - the dead men of the clan, as the dísir were the dead
women - and this has often been taken up by true folk today, Fro Ing and
the alfs being called on together with the Frowe and the idises. Aside from
Óláfr, there is no reason to think of the mound-alfs as being necessarily
manly: women were buried in howes as often as men, and individual alfs are
not seen often enough in Norse sources for us to know whether they are
likely to have been of one sex or not. However, it may be that the words,
while referring to the same wights, were distinguished by gender in the
Viking Age. Certainly álfr is a masculine word and dís is feminine, so, at
least regarding their use in the cult of the dead, the two could quite
easily have been polarized. Turville-Petre supports this theory by
mentioning that, according to Heiðreks saga, "the woman who reddened the
altar during the dísablót was called Álfhildr; she was daughter of Álfr,
king of Álfheimar" (Myth and Religion, p. 231). Since the source is
relatively late, antiquarian consistency might have changed dísablót to
álfablót, or Álfhildr's name to one of the many names with "dís" as an
element, but this did not take place, suggesting that a tradition may have
been reported accurately.

If such a distinction did indeed exist during Heathen times, it was lost
later, and all the mound-folk called alfs; but Scandinavian folk ballads
offer tales which suggest that these alf-women still acted as the idises
(in their darker shape) could. The Danish "Herr Oluf Han Rider" tells of a
man who rides through a grove where elf-folk were dancing on his
wedding-eve. One of the women asks him to dance with her, but he refuses.
She strikes him over the heart; he rides home to his betrothed, and the two
of them are dead by the next morning. In the Icelandic "Ólafur liljurós",
the alf-woman asks the man to dwell in the hill with them; he refuses on
the grounds that he is a christian. She then asks him for a kiss, which he
gives "half-heartedly" (with half-hugr); she stabs him with her knife,
mortally wounding him. As spoken of under "Idises", such bidding and its
consequences are typical: one way or another, the chosen man will join the
woman in death.

The mound-folk are especially interested in human babies, whom they will
steal if they can, leaving changelings in their place. According to folk
belief, they can breed, but this is rare and difficult, and there are
several tales of human women called to midwife alf births.

Alfs, like trolls, etins, and god/esses, can mate with humans. This happens
often in Scandinavian folklore. From the late heathen/early mediæval
period, perhaps the most notable example is Högni (Hagen) of Þiðreks saga.
According to the saga, he was "gray as ash, and sallow as bast, and pale as
a dead man", easily mistaken for a troll in a dim light. The belief that
Hagen was the son of an alf may have come to Scandinavia through the
original German source for both Þiðreks saga and Nibelungenlied (though, as
mentioned above, the Níflungar/Burgundian association suggest the
possibility of an older connection which, like Siegfried's spear-death, was
lost in the Norse but retained in the German materials); but the
description is typically Norse. There are a number of later folk stories of
men who are seduced by alf women (and father children on them), and of
brides who are stolen by the alfs on their wedding day. There are also
stories of men who cast steel over their elvish lovers to bind them to the
Middle-Garth so that they can marry them.

Folk who spend time with the alfs often come back mad, or at the very least
sorrowful and wandering in their wits. The expression "taken into the
mountain" was used whenever someone underwent a sudden psychological
change, which was often associated with getting lost in the mountains or
woods. The ringing of church bells was thought to force the alfs to let
their captives go (Kvideland & Sehmsdorf, Scandinavian Folk Belief and
Legend, p. 212). Simek tells us that the German "Erlkönig", on whom
Goethe's ballad (set as a song by Schubert) is based, "originates from an
incorrect translation of Herder's who misunderstood the Danish elverkonge
('elf-king') to be Erlenkönig ('alder-king'), but attributed to it some of
the darker attributes of elves (Dictionary, p. 74); that is, trying to lure
a child away, and when that fails, taking it by force, leaving a corpse
behind.

Alfs are also well-known for "alf-shot" - little invisible arrows which
cause effects in humans and cattle ranging from sudden sharp pains, local
swellings, and inexplicable wasting sicknesses to bone cancer and even
death. Lumbago and arthritis are especially thought of as the result of
alf-shot. This belief is common throughout the Northern world, with forms
of the word appearing in all Germanic dialects (together with the similar
"troll-shot", "witch-shot", and "dwarf-shot"); it probably stems from the
eldest times. Those who suspect they or their animals may be suffering from
alf-shot should work the charm "Wiþ Færstice" (Against a Sudden Pain), the
text and translation of which can be found in G. Storms' Anglo-Saxon Magic.

Alfs dislike it greatly when stables are built or people relieve themselves
on their mounds. There are also several stories of mounds with trees
growing on them from which it was forbidden to break branches; when this
bidding was broken, great ill-luck overcame the one who had done it.

However, the alfs can also get along well with humans. Tales abound of folk
who have done favours for them and are well-rewarded for it. If offered a
gift by them, especially in payment for services done, it is far safer to
take it than to refuse it. Food and drink are quite common (though there is
a counter-belief that to eat alfish food within their hall will trap one
there forever) . There is also a recurring theme of an alf-gift which seems
worthless (dead leaves, wood-shavings, and such) turning into gold - quite
the opposite of the Celtic belief in "fairy gold" which looks valuable, but
is actually something worthless with a glamour laid on it. The Anglo-Saxon
names such as Ælfgifu (Alf-Gift), Ælfred (Alf-Rede - mod. Alfred), and
Ælfwin(Alf-Friend - mod. Alvin) also speak of a close and good relationship
between alfs and humans in the English tradition.

Alfs can be seen through knot-holes (elf-bore), holes made by an alf-shot
in an animal's hide (Grimm, Teutonic Mythology, II, p. 461), and probably
natural holes in stones, which were thought to be especially magical.

Swart Alfs (Dwarves)

Norse literature tells us more about the Swart Alfs, or dwarves, than about
the other sorts of alf. According to Snorri, the dwarves were made from the
maggots crawling in Ymir's corpse when the Middle-Garth was shaped. He also
mentions that the Swart Alfs are black as pitch, but this may well be his
own understanding drawn from the name; in Alvíssmál 2, Þórr comments on how
pale the dwarf Alvíss is, and asks if he has been with a corpse in the
night.

Like the Dark Alfs, the Swart Alfs are closely associated with death, and
may in fact often be dead folk themselves, as the names "Dáinn" (a
dwarf-name as well as the alfs' ruler), Nár (Corpse), and Bláinn
(blue/black - cf. "Hel-Blue", a common description of corpses, especially
undead ones) suggest. Other dwarf names relate to their crafts: Næfr (the
Capable One). They have magical skills, as shown by the names Gandálfr
(Wand-Alf or Magical Alf), and are wise, as seen by the names Fjölsviðr
(Very Wise - a name shared with Óðinn), Alvíss (All-Wise), and Ráðviðr
(Rede-Wise). They can be deceitful: their ruler is called Dvalinn
(Deluder). The word "dwarf" itself has been variously etymologized as
stemming from Indo-European *dhuer- (damage), Old Indian dhvaras (demonic
being), and Indo-European *dreugh (the root of "dream", but also of the
German Trug, "deception"). The last reading fits best with the meaning of
"Dvalinn". Simek mentions that "the origin of the concept of dwarves is
either to be found in nature spirits or else in demons of death...(but)
Nature spirits are probably more likely to be elves. However, it is
possible that there was a mixture of concepts" (Dictionary, pp. 68-69).

The relationship of dwarves with dreams and delusion has led today to the
understanding that their land, Swart-Alf Home, is mirrored in the human
soul by the subconscious, the realm of shadows where thoughts are forged
into being.

Four dwarves, Austri (East), Norðri (North), Vestri (West), and Suðri
(South), hold up the sky - the dome of Ymir's skull. These dwarves are
sometimes called on today in warding the quarters of the holy ring. Alice
Karlsdottir's reading of the tale of the Brísingamen also has them as the
four forgers of the Frowe's necklace (who are not named in Sörla þáttr).

The Swart Alfs are, so far as we can tell, always male - though modern
fantasy writers have come up with the ingenious explanation that
dwarf-women exist, but are also bearded, making it difficult for humans to
tell the sexes apart. However, male dwarves are known for stealing human
women away (Grimm, II, pp. 466-67), while human men do not marry
dwarf-women; the one reference Grimm quotes to this happening speaks of a
mound-alf's daughter, not a dwarf. The dwarves usually appear to be old,
with long gray beards; they are short and gnarled, but powerful. Often they
wear red caps, which make them invisible to human folk; the Tarnkappe of
Nibelungenlied, which had the same power, was also a dwarfish product, and
part of the Nibelungen-hoard guarded by the dwarf Alberich (Alf-Ruler). In
the Norse version of the story, the magical cap from the dwarf's hoard was
the ægishjálmar (Helm of Awe), which made shape-changing possible and
terrified the foes of the one who wore it.

Like trolls, dwarves dwell in mountains and stones, which are often the
doorways to the Otherworld. Ynglinga saga tells how the Yngling king
Sveigðir sought for Óðinn's dwelling a long time, and one evening after
sunset, when he went from the mead-hall to his sleeping place, he saw a
dwarf under a great stone. The dwarf stood in the stone's door and called
Sveigðir, bidding him come in if he wanted to meet Óðinn. Sveigðir leapt
into the stone, and it closed behind him, and he never came out. In
Hervarar saga ok Heiðreks, the king Svafrlami (or Sigrlami in an alternate
version) saw two dwarves, Dvalinn and Dulinn, by a stone at sunset and
barred them from the stone with his sword until they had promised to make
him the best weapon possible. That was the sword Tyrfingr: but when they
had given it to him, Dvalinn told him that it would be a man's bane
whenever it was drawn, and would do three niðing-works, and that it would
be Svafrlami's own bane. Then Svafrlami struck at him, but the dwarf had
already gone into the stone. Dwarves are not warrior-like, and can be
forced to work by threats - but they hold grudges very well, and always get
their revenge.

Again like trolls, dwarves are turned to rock by the light of the sun;
Thonar gets rid of his daughter's dwarfish suitor Alvíss by distracting him
with questions until daylight strikes him, a theme otherwise typical of
troll-tales both in Norse poetry (cf. Helgakviða Hjörvarðssonar) and
Icelandic folk-tales. They can, however, fare above ground by daylight in
the form of stags; the four stags that chew at the World-Tree's bark all
have dwarf-names, and may indeed be North, East, South, and West in their
daylight shapes. The dwarf Andvari, keeper of the Rhine's hoard, took the
shape of a great pike, and the Old English charm against dwarves also
describes them in the form of spiders.

Above all, however, dwarves are the greatest of smiths (with the exception
of Weyland, spoken of later in this chapter). They made all the great
treasures of the god/esses, and many things for human folk. Although there
are no traces of a common cult of the dwarves, as there was for the alfs,
it is not unlikely that smiths might have given these wights special
worship and called on them for craft. Certainly our legends sometimes have
heroes being apprenticed or fostered by dwarves. The German Siegfried is
sent to the dwarf Mime as his apprentice; in the Norse version, Sigurðr is
the foster-son of the smith Reginn. According to the German tradition
preserved in Þiðreks saga, Weyland was also apprenticed to dwarves.

The dwarves are also the keepers of all the wealth within the earth, and do
not necessarily appreciate humans taking that wealth out: most mining
communities have legends of ill-willing wights who cut ropes and weaken
shorings. Those who work with metals and stones, as well as hailing the
dwarves for crafts, would do well to give them gifts for this sake.

Human beings can become dwarves or alfs. Such a transformation appears in
the Norse Völsung/Nibelung legend, where Reginn - originally a human, the
brother of Fáfnir and the skin-changer Óttarr - turns into a dwarf, even as
Fáfnir becomes a dragon. Since the Germanic dragon, as Professor Tolkien
pointed out in "The Monsters and the Critics", is never a natural animal,
but rather the ghost of a dead man guarding his hoard, and some dwarves
also seem to be dead people, it is possible that the transformations of
Fáfnir and Reginn were brought about posthumously by their obsessions with
the hoard of the Rhine (originally belonging to the dwarf Andvari). As a
smith, Reginn was naturally closest to the dwarf-kind.

Another such change seems to take place in Weyland, as spoken of in
Völundarkviða. Although the legendary smith is called "prince of alfs"
early in the poem, he seems wholly human: he eats, hunts, and is overcome
by sleep, making it easy for his foes to capture him. However, during the
long trial in which he is imprisoned, hamstrung, and made to forge for
Niðuðr, the might of need and his craft begin to change him. He does not
need sleep any more, but smiths continuously, becoming as tireless and
mighty a smith as any of the Swart Alfs. By the time he has wrought his
full revenge, he has passed wholly outside of the human world and become an
alf in truth. When he says "Well I...would be on my feet, those which
Niðuðr's warriors took from me", he is acknowledging the destruction of
Weyland the man; when he takes to the air on the wings he has forged for
himself, he becomes wholly Weyland the Smith of our folk-legends, the "wise
alf" who lives yet and was given gifts and worship throughout the Teutonic
world.

Land-Wights

The land-wights are beings who dwell in natural features such as streams,
stones, and waterfalls. They take many shapes, often humanlike, often not.
The land-wights can be roused to defend their land against magical attacks,
as in the story from Heimskringla (Óláfs saga Tryggvasonar) in which a
wizard goes to Iceland in whale-shape to see if it can be invaded. He sees
it crawling with land-wights everywhere. When he tries to go ashore, the
four guardians of the land - dragon in the east-northeast, bird in the
north, bull in the west, and mountain giant in the south-southwest - each
with a host of smaller beings in the same shape following them, attack him.
He returns to report to King Haraldr Gormsson that Iceland is too strongly
warded for an invasion to be successful. These four warders still appear on
the back of Icelandic kronur.

Unlike some alfs and dwarves, the land-wights seem never to have been
human; Iceland, which had been uninhabited except for the odd Irish monk
(and some of them were very odd indeed), was already virtually seething
with them when the Norse landed. They are the wights which can most easily
be reached by those who dwell in the New World; while those land-wights
have long been used to Amerindian ways, it has been found that they respond
well to whoever comes to them with courtesy and respect. Some true folk in
America add tobacco to the land wights' offerings of bread and drink to
honour the local customs and see that the wights get what they are used to.

Throughout the Germanic world, the cult of the land-wights lasted far
longer than the cult of the Ases and Wans; in fact, it is still a living
belief in Iceland today, where many farmhouses have boulders that they will
not mow too closely around nor let their children play on. From the period
of christianization onward, there were stringent laws against giving any
sort of worship to rocks, trees, or springs, such as the General Admonition
of Charlemagne, ca. 787, and his Special Capitulary for the Missi, ca.
v802, and the Sermon VI of the False Boniface, ca. 800 (Chisholm, Grove and
Gallows). This worship was usually characterized by bringing food and drink
to the place, then eating it in the name of the dweller there and/or
leaving a share of it at the holy stead.

According to the Heathen law of Iceland, as recorded in Landnámabók
(Hauksbók ch. 268), the dragon-prows of ships had to be taken off before
coming within sight of land to keep from frightening the land-wights away.
They were probably raised for the same reason during attacks and raids:
they terrified the wights who dwelt in the defenders' lands and kept them
from lending their aid in the battle. When Egill Skalla-Grímssonr set his
horse-head níðstöng (nithing pole) against King Eiríkr Blood-Axe and his
queen Gunnhildr, he first stated that he turned it against the royal
couple, then faced the horse-head towards in to land and said, "I turn this
nith against the land-wights who dwell in the land, so that all of them
fare wild ways, nor find nor meet their homes, before they drive King
Eiríkr and Gunnhildr out of the land" (Egils saga, ch. 57). The horse-head
pole probably worked in much the same way as the "dragon-prow"; in fact,
remnants of a Danish ship-prow show that it was a beast with a horselike
head and mane of iron curls.

If the land-wights are frightened or angered, all things in the land will
go badly until they are at rest again. It is needful to get their
permission before doing any major landscaping, especially if it involves
moving trees or boulders, in which they often dwell. The landwights tend to
dislike loud noises and are affrighted by the violent shedding of blood. It
can be guessed that they also dislike pollution, large quantities of motor
traffic, and littering. They can speak directly to those who are sensitive
enough to hear them; to others, they may appear in dreams.

Worship of the land-wights was probably not carried out as a large-scale
religious activity, though it is good to save food and drink from the holy
feasts to put by whatever creek, stone, or tree houses the ones nearest to
you. From the Icelandic sagas, we have two examples of individuals with
close personal relationships with land-wights. Kristni saga and Þorvalds
þáttr víðförla speak of how a chieftain brought sacrifice to a rock-dweller
called his ármaðr (harvest-man) or spámaðr (spae-man) until the wight was
driven out by holy water splashed on the stone. The names given to the
rock-dweller suggest that not only do land-wights bring fruitfulness to
their friends, but they can also give wise rede. In Landnámabók, a man by
the name of Goat-Björn had trouble with his goats. He dreamed that a
rock-dweller came to him, offering to become his partner. After that a new
billy-goat appeared among Björn's herd and they began to breed. When Björn
went to the Þing, or his brothers went fishing, folk with the Sight could
see all the land-wights with him. Making friends with the land-wights is
clearly a personal thing, calling for a certain degree of quiet and privacy
so that you and they can hear each other.

Although the land-wights were not subjects of myth, they seem to have been
very much a part of the daily lives of all our Germanic forebears - wights
to be loved and dealt with often. As Óðinn suggests in "Hávamál" 44: "If
you have a friend whom you trust in well, and wish to have good of him,
open your mind to him and share gifts, fare often to find him". In the old
days, as we see from the wide spread of the cult of the land-wights and the
law of the Icelanders, caring for these beings was very much in the minds
of all. That is even more needful in these times, when a great many human
activities seem as though planned to offend them. It is up to the true to
make friends with the land-wights again so that both we and they can
flourish.

Huldfolk

The Huldfolk (hidden folk) are figures of continental Scandinavian
folklore. They often overlap with both the Dark Alfs and the land-wights,
and in the later folklore the term is applied generally to every sort of
being which cannot usually be seen by human beings, particularly the
mound-dwellers.

One of the most typical characteristics of huldfolk is that they appear as
beautiful human beings, but have animal features such as cow-tails or
hooves; or else their backs are hollow or overgrown with bark. They try to
keep these things hidden, as they take particular delight in seducing and
even sometimes marrying human beings.

The Swedes believed in a woman called the skogsrå (Forest Ruler), who lives
in the wood and seduces hunters and charcoal-burners. In return for their
sexual favours, she helps their work by charming their rifles so that they
will never miss, or keeping their fires burning while they sleep. Any good
done for the skogsrå is likely to be returned with good. In one folktale, a
pair of hunters run across two forest women, one of whom is about to give
birth. They give her pieces of their clothes to wrap the baby in, and she
tells them that the next day, one will shoot her dog and the other her cat.
The next day, one shoots a wolf and the other a lynx (Scandinavian
Folktales, p. 89). Such wood-wives are also found in German folklore, where
they teach humans herb-craft and help with milling and other such tasks; it
was customary to bake a little loaf for them with each lot of bread, and to
leave it out in the wood, and they would answer by leaving cakes of their
own on the plough or in the furrow. They highly dislike bread flavoured
with caraway seeds, as do several other sorts of huldfolk. There are also
male wood-wights, but they are more retiring and less good-natured (Grimm,
Teutonic Mythology, II, pp. 483-85).

Another sort of water-wight is the nöck or näck who dwells in streams,
pools, and rivers. The word is the same as our English "nicor" or the much
diminished form, "nixie". In the Anglo-Saxon sources, they are fearsome
etin-kin, worthy foes for Beowulf to use his sword on; however, in the
Scandinavian folklore, they can be helpful. The Näck will tune fiddles and
teach folk to play the fiddle if he is offered a black lamb; if a fiddler
lets this wight suck blood from his finger, the Näck will teach him a
certain tune that everyone who hears must dance to. He is still a fearsome
wight: it is said in Norway that he claims a life every year. Although
German and English folklore remember less of the wights themselves, there
are many rivers of which the same is said, including the small and sluggish
English Cam (the Warder of the Lore can verify the truth of this legend)
and the German Saale, who claims her victims on Walpurgisnacht or
Midsummer's (Grimm, Teutonic Mythology, II, p. 494). When going out on a
river, it is recommended to make a small gift of food and drink so that the
wight does not get the idea of choosing its own sacrifice. In Iceland, such
water-wights are said to disguise themselves as horses, which are perfectly
safe to ride so long as they do not get near open water; if they do, they
sink down and drown the rider. Landnámabók (Hauksbók 71) describes what was
probably such a creature. Auðun stoti sees an apple-gray horse running over
from the lake Hjarðarvatn; he sets the horse to work, and it works so hard
that its hooves are sunken to the fetlocks in the field, but after sundown
it breaks all its harness and runs back to the lake.

The Scandinavian näck is always male, but havfruen (harbour-maids,
mermaids) are known as well. The most famous female water-wight is probably
die Lorelei of the Rhine. These women have spae-sight, and can be made to
answer questions; in Nibelungenlied, Hagen sees three water-maids bathing
in the Danube, and they prophesy to him that all who cross the river must
die.

Contributors

The folk of Hrafnar

Kveldulfr Hagan Gundarsson, from "Wayland the Smith", in Mountain Thunder
2, 3-5.

Alice Karlsdottir, from "Freyja's Necklace", in Mountain Thunder 10, pp.
21-22.




Chapter XXIII

House-Ghosts

All through the Germanic world, we have the belief in house-ghosts. These
wights are called by different names - nissen in Denmark, tomten in Sweden,
tussen in Norway, kobolds in Germany, among others - but they seem to be
all of the same sort. In Scandinavia, the house-ghosts are usually seen as
little men, often wearing gray clothes and pointed red caps; the Danish
nisse is also said to be thumbless. As with the beliefs in alfs and
land-wights, the belief in house-ghosts long outlived the worship of the
Ases and Wans; the custom of putting porridge out for the tomte or nisse
has lasted to the present day in Scandinavia, although non-Heathen
households take it no more seriously than they do putting out cookies and
milk for Santa Claus.

One of the Norwegian names for the house-ghost is haugbo (also appearing in
Orkney dialect as hogboy) - "howe-dweller" or haugbonde, "howe-farmer".
Sometimes nissen or tomten are also said to live in mounds on the land. In
"Gardvoren og senga hans", Solheim suggests that the house-ghost was the
first owner of the farm, who dwells there as the embodiment of its
prosperity - and perhaps to make sure that things are done rightly by those
who come after him. This suggests that the house-ghosts of modern
Scandinavian folklore may be much the same as the wights the Old Norse
sources knew as alfs - the ancestral mound-dwellers who look after their
kin. This idea may also be strengthened by the fact that the house-ghosts
are always, with no recorded exceptions, male.

The house-ghosts are not always tied down to their mounds, however. While
some are strongly associated with places (particularly communal places,
even making their home in churches), many others will cheerfully pick up
and follow a family where-ever it goes, whether they are asked to go or
not. The theme of a family that tries to change houses to get away from a
troublesome house-ghost, only to see him sitting on top of the wagon and
chuckling about what a fine day it is to move is widespread through both
Scandinavia and Great Britain (where it is attributed to the Gaelic brownie
as well). Such wights also guard ships, mills, and other places where folk
work - your office may have its very own house-ghost.

The chief role of these wights is to take care of the house and its
surrounding lands. In rural households, they make sure that the bread
rises, the cream turns to butter in the churn, the cows are fed well, and
the field-work is successful. Today, most of them have different ways of
looking after the families they follow. House-ghosts make sure that your
keys and glasses are where you can find them, that the house's wiring is
safe, and generally that things go as they ought. They help with cleaning
and garden-work; they are annoyed by lazy people, but make things easier
for the hard worker.

The house-ghost is also particularly responsible for bringing luck to the
household, sometimes by stealing it from other households. One story from
Denmark describes how a farmer had no fodder for his cattle, but his nisse
went out at night with a cow and brought her home loaded with hay
(Kvidelund & Sehmsdorf, Scandinavian Folk Belief and Legends, pp. 239-40).
Another tale from Norway, variants of which appear all over Scandinavia has
a man seeing his tusse struggling with a blade of grain and laughing at how
light the load is. The tusse replies that he will see soon enough how heavy
the burden was, and turns around to carry it the other way. After that
there was nothing but poverty, illness, and bad luck on the farm, because
the tusse was carrying all the good from it.

These wights work tremendously hard as long as they are appreciated, and
ask little in return - a plate of porridge and a glass of beer every
Thursday, with a share of feast-food on holy days, will usually keep them
very happy indeed. In the last couple of hundred years, it has been found
that they like tobacco as well. They are also fond of whole milk (though
not skimmed, which will make them unhappy because they think you are being
stingy with them - house-ghosts do not understand about cholesterol), and
KveldúlfR Gundarsson has found that his house-ghosts like vodka and other
sorts of schnapps as well. If you think of your house-ghosts as old folk
from rural Scandinavia or Germany and ask yourself what they would have
wanted to eat or drink at home, you probably can't go too wrong. This food
is either put in the barn or stable, where the house-ghost usually lives in
rural households or beside the hearth (Diana Paxson suggests having a stone
there to serve as his dwelling, on which the plate of food can be placed).
If you have no hearth, the stone should go in whatever place you have
chosen as the heart of the house. Grimm tells us that the house-ghost's
yearly wage, given to him on Yule morning, was "grey cloth, tobacco, and a
shovelful of earth" (II, p. 512).

One must take leaving the food out for the house-ghost very seriously.
There are a number of tales of folk who ate the house-ghost's porridge
themselves and/or defiled his plate, with consequences ranging from his
aggravated departure to the culprit being beaten to death. It is especially
important to give the house-ghost his food at Yule (and probably
Winternights as well, since he will just have finished a long and hard
stint of work). House-ghosts often revenge slights violently, and since
they are supposed to be very strong in spite of their size, this is
something to be wary of.

House-ghosts also dislike noisy evenings, although the nisse is fond of
music. If you are planning a raucous party, you should probably warn your
house-ghost beforehand, and give him fitting food and drink before and
after as a reward for his tolerance. According to Swedish superstition, the
tomte particularly hates chopping in the yard on a Thursday evening (Grimm,
II, p. 509), and probably dislikes any sort of disturbance on this evening,
as it is the night on which he gets his porridge and beer, and presumably
his night off.

One of the most common stories about house-ghosts is also told of brownies
in Scotland: the folk of the farm see their house-ghost dressed in tatters,
and either feel sorry for him or want to reward him for all the hard work
he has done for them. They make a little set of clothes, which he puts on
with delight, declaring that now he is too fine to do farm-work, and they
never see him again. However, other sorts of gift were apparently customary
in Germany: clause 103 of the Penitential of the German Church (ca. 900
C.E.) asks, "Did you make bows and shoes of a size that small boys would
use; and, then put them in your cellar or barn for satyrs and goblins to
play with so that they will bring good things and you will be made richer?"
(Chisholm, James, tr., Grove and Gallows, p. 54)

House-ghosts can often be mischievous, and like to play tricks. If they
become obnoxious, an extra gift of food or drink put down with the firmly
placed request that they kindly stop doing whatever has been annoying you
is the best way to get them to stop. Actively banishing them is the very
last resort, as a well-meaning house-ghost is the best and truest friend
you can have. Most of those that become obnoxious simply do not realize
that they are upsetting their people, and once told, become contrite and
more helpful than before.

Other sorts of requests can also be made to the house-ghosts together with
gifts of food and drink - the most common being, "Would you kindly find
this/that/the other for me?"

Some house-ghosts, however, are basically unpleasant. There are Icelandic
families even today which suffer from horrid wights called fylgidraugar
(following-undead). These wights are a type of Sending made out of babies
abandoned to die, which stay through the generations to torment a family.
The best that can be hoped from these is that, if they are given food, they
will be less obnoxious than if they exert their whole strength to make
trouble.

There is an Old High German charm to banish ill-willing house-ghosts:

"Wola, wiht, taz tu weist, taz tu wiht heizist,

Taz tu neweist noch nechanst cheden 'chnospinci'."

(Well, wight, do you know that you hight 'wight',

that you do not know and cannot say 'chnospinci'.")

The wight, rather like Rumpelstiltskin, becomes so furious at not being
able to pronounce the nonsense-word "chnospinci" (chno-speen-kee - the chn
is a sneezing sort of sound), that it departs at once in a huff. This charm
is only to be used when all else has failed.

In rural households, the house-ghost often chose a favourite horse or cow
to give extra care and fodder to - the fodder being stolen from the other
beasts. If one of your pets is always fat and sleek while others seem thin
and unhappy, and (the most important step in diagnosing the problem) a vet
can find nothing wrong with the ones that are not faring as well, it is
possible that the house-ghost is interfering with them. In that case, his
unfortunate victims should be fed by themselves and given extra care by the
owner. In one Swedish tale, a farmer sold the tomte's favourite horse and
brought another one, which became thinner and more sickly every day. One
night the farmer hid in the stables, and saw the tomte come in and flog the
new horse with a big whip. He then bought the old one back again, and had
no more trouble (Simpson, Scandinavian Folktales, p. 174).

The house-ghost is especially associated with cats: Grimm mentions the
names polterkater (noisy tomcat) and katermann (tomcat man) for him (II, p.
509), and says that the cat shares the name Heinz and Heinzel with the
kobold, as well as being a stiefel-knecht (boot-servant), "coming very near
the resourceful Puss-in-Boots. The tabby-cat brings you mice, corn, and
money overnight; after the third service you can't get rid of her...A
serviceable tom-cat is not to be shaken off" (IV, p. 1432). Treating
house-cats well is clearly very important for the prosperity of the home.

Grimm also mentions the custom of having carved kobold-figures in one's
home or painted on the wall (II, 501-02). Such a figure might well serve as
a dwelling for the house-ghost, before which his food and drink could well
be placed. If you seem to have no house-ghost, such a figure could well be
used as the focus for a rite to call one to you, as suggested in
Gundarsson's Teutonic Religion. If you look closely, you may even find that
you have a statue somewhere in your house which has attracted such a wight
on its own.

Finally, it must be mentioned that in her humorous fiction, the writer
Esther Friesner has advised against letting tomten see Ingmar Bergmann
films, which throws them into deep Scandinavian depressions. There is
probably no real basis for this...but just in case...



Chapter XXIV

Etins, Rises, Thurses, Trolls, and Muspilli

Anyone who has ever picked up a book on Norse mythology knows about the
conflict between the gods and the giants. It is often pictured as an
endless dualistic struggle between the forces of good and evil, order and
chaos, creation and destruction. As always with the ways of our forebears,
however, matters are far more complex than the usual view would have
them...

Our forebears had several terms for the race of giantish wights. It is hard
to distinguish one from another by use, as the words were used fairly
interchangeably. For the sake of clarity in the modern age, Edred Thorsson
has divided them thus: the very wise, powerful, magical ones are called
etins (jötnar, single jötunn - "the Eaters"?), the huge mountain-dwellers
are giants or rises (rísar - "giants"), the uncontrollable, hardly
conscious natural forces are thurses, and "troll" is (as it was in the old
days) used as a catch-all phrase for obnoxious supernatural wights. The
whole lot of them are referred to collectively as "etin-kind" or "Ymir's
children", as they were all born from the body of the hermaphroditic
ur-etin Ymir before Wodan and his brothers slew him and made the world from
his corpse.

All seem agreed that the etin-kind are basically wights of untamed nature,
and can be extremely dangerous and/or destructive. As the Raven Kindred
Ritual book puts it, "the Jotunn are the Gods of all those things which man
has no control over. The Vanir are the gods of the growing crops, the
Jotunn are the Gods of the river which floods and washes away those crops
or the tornado which destroys your entire farm. This is why they are
frightening and this is why we hold them to be evil.

"The Jotunn are not worshipped in modern Asatru, but there is some evidence
that sacrifices were made to them in olden times. In this case, sacrifices
were probably made "to them" rather than shared "with them", as was the
case with the Vanir and Æsir. It would be inappropriate to embrace them as
friends and brothers in the way we embrace our Gods. One doesn't embrace
the hurricane or the wildfire; it is insanity to do so. However, we must
also remember that fact that (although) we see their actions as bad, they
are not inherently evil. The storm destroys the crops, but it also brings
cleansing and renewal. We humans are only one species on this planet and in
the end we are both expendable and irrelevant to nature. This is the manner
in which the Jotunn act, and it is not surprising that we see this as evil"
(p.17).

The etin-kind dwell in mountains, glaciers, volcanos, and all steads that
are too wild and dangerous for humans to settle in; those who wish to see
Etin-Home made real within the Middle-Garth need only look at the interior
of Iceland, which Ymir's children still hold. Where they live, we cannot,
and vice versa. In banishing rites, various sorts of etin-kin are also
singled out as the specific wights of ill being banished.

Many embodiments of cosmic destructiveness are attributed to Ymir's
children: the wolves Sköll and Hati (or Managarmr), who chase the Sun and
Moon and will eat them at Ragnarök, are the sons of the Hag of Iron-Wood,
who seems to be a great mother of etin-kind. The Wolf Fenrir, son of Loki
and Angrboda, has already been spoken of. At the end of the age, some of
the etin-kin, most particularly Loki's children and a giant named Hrymr,
will fight against the god/esses: Snorri tells us that all the rime-thurses
will come with Hrymr, but this is not mentioned in the poetic sources. Both
in Völuspá and Vafþrúðnismál, the etin-tribe as a whole seems to play
little part. We know only that Etin-Home is as disturbed as the realms of
the Ases and the dwarves (Völuspá 48), and troll women wander wildly when
Surtr comes and the mountains (their homes) collapse (52). The chief source
of destruction at Ragnarök, and the only host of foes described in Völuspá,
will be Surtr and his Muspilli, spoken of at the end of this chapter.

Although the etin-kind are dangerous to humans and often work against the
god/esses, they cannot be dismissed as wholly ill. The many etin-brides of
the gods have already been spoken of; we will remember that Skaði's father
Þjazi represented all that is most threatening about the etins, and yet she
herself is, and was, worshipped as a goddess. Thonar is the great foe of
etins, but has one as a concubine, and has gotten help from others (see
"Skaði, Gerðr, and other Etin-Brides"). Mímir, Óðinn's rede-giver and
teacher, was likewise an etin, and there is not one of the Æsir of known
parentage who cannot claim kin among these folk.

The relationship between god/esses and etin-kind is often rather ambiguous:
often the gods come as guests into etin-halls, sometimes even with
apparently friendly intentions - although such visits usually end up with
the giants dead, as at the end of Vafþrúðnismál and Hymiskviða. Although
Thonar is sometimes seen as not too swift on the uptake, the great
etin-slayer would undoubtedly have seen something very fishy in Loki's
presentation of the "friendly invitation" to come unarmed to Geirröðr's
hall if it were truly unknown for gods and giants to guest together. In
fact, unless he is directly challenged, Thonar's main fault as a guest in
etin-halls is his efforts to eat the giants out of house and home
(Hymiskviða, Þrymskviða). However, while the god/esses and Ymir's children
do not seem to be universally sworn foes, and sometimes work well together,
there is always a great tension between them - and between the etin-kind
and humans as well: as Þórr's explanation for why he slays female, as well
as male, etins (discussed by Paxson below) points out, most of Ymir's
children cannot dwell safely by human beings.

For these reasons, very few true folk have even considered working with the
etin-kind, except for the odd magician who seeks them out for lore or the
wilderness wanderer who seeks to bribe the dangerous powers around her/him.
However, a new, or perhaps very old, glance over the etins is offered by
Diana Paxson:

...Despite the gusto with which Thor bashes etins, the old literature
leaves one with a curiously ambiguous perspective. Ancient and terrible the
Jotnar may be, but are they simply destructive, or does the conflict
between them and the lords of Asgard have a deeper significance?

As I explore the spiritual ecology of the North I have come to believe that
far from being the eternal enemy, the Jotnar may have a crucial role to
play in the survival of the world and its inhabitants, including human
beings. An analysis of their origins and functions not only illuminates
their relationship to the gods (and therefore the meaning of the Aesir as
well), but suggests a new way to interpret some of the ambiguities
encountered in Norse attitudes towards the feminine and the natural world.

The mythologies of other early cultures reveal a pattern which may be
paralleled in that of the North. Bearing in mind that traditional cultures
do not have a single, canonical, "creation myth", still, almost everywhere
we find a first generation of deities who are responsible for the creation
of the world, and who are later supplanted by their children, the pantheon
whose worship becomes the religion of the land.

The Graeco-Roman creation myth tells how Gaia, Mother Earth, arose from the
empty "yawning" of Chaos and conceived the Titanic powers by Ouranos, who
suppressed them before they could be born into the world. The last of them,
Kronos, attacked and emasculated his father, separating him from the earth.
The Titans who were then released were powers of the sun and moon, darkness
and the dawn. Monsters of various kinds were also created. Kronos (Time)
married his sister Rhea (Space) and they became the parents of the Olympian
gods. Eventually the gods, aided by monstrous allies and the counsel of
Mother Earth, defeated and imprisoned the Titans in Tartaros. Nonetheless,
the time when Kronos and the Titans ruled was considered by the Greeks to
have been a golden age.

Despite the theological sophistication of Hinduism, traces remain of a
pre-Vedic system in which "The gods and the antigods are the twofold
offspring of the lord-of-progeny (Prajapati). Of these the gods are the
younger, the antigods the older. They have been struggling with each other
for the dominion of the worlds" (Brhad-aranyaka Upanishad 1.3.1. [205]).
These antigods are sometimes called asuras (later construed as a-suras, or
"not-gods"), although this term, derived from the root "to be" or Asu,
"breath", was originally used to identify the most important gods. Although
the asuras are seen as opponents, many among them are described as wise and
beneficent and aid the gods. Among the asuras the Mahabharata includes
daityas (genii), danavas (giants), kalakanjas (stellar spirits), kalejas
(demons of time), nagas (serpents), and raksasas (night wanderers, or
demons). They live in palaces in mountain caves, the bowels of the earth,
the sea, and the sky. They are said to be powerful in battle and magic.

In Egyptian religion, the oldest company of gods seems to have represented
properties of primeval matter. According to E.A. Wallace Budge, "...in
primeval times at least the Egyptians believed in the existence of a deep
and boundless watery mass out of which had come into being the heavens, and
the earth, and everything that is in them" (The Gods of the Egyptians, I:
283). These powers were represented by four pairs of gods and goddesses.
The world as we know it was created by the action of the Khepera aspect of
the sun-god, who says in the Book of the Overthrowing of Apepi, "Heaven did
not exist, and earth had not come into being, and the things of the earth
and creeping things had not come into existence in that place, and I raised
them from out of Nu from a state of inactivity" (295). This bears a
remarkable resemblance to the opening of Völuspá:

"Old was the age when Ymir dwelt,

was not sand nor sea nor spray-cold waves;

there was no earth nor up-heaven,

the gap was ginn- (potential power) full and grass nowhere.

Then Burr's sons rased up the land,

they who the well-known Miðgarðr shaped..."

Unless one is prepared to believe that the author of the Edda read
hieroglyphics, one must accept this idea as a way of conceptualizing
creation common to many peoples. The "inactivity" of Nu is a reasonable
southern parallel to the eternal ice that encased Ymir. In both cases, the
earth that we know is "lifted" into a state of manifestation by the action
of a more clearly personified power. In the Younger Edda, we learn that the
world was fashioned from Ymir's skull and bones, (shaped by the gods
descended from the being Burr, who was) freed from the ice by the tongue of
Audhumla, the primal female principle in the form of a cow.

In all of these mythologies, the elder gods are the...elemental powers.
Myths about them have to do with their origins and their battles against
the race of gods who supplanted them. They may be portrayed as monstrous or
fair, but always they dwell in wild places - Utgard - or in the element to
which they belong. Although they are the opponents of the gods, they do not
appear to be hostile to men. In fact, they have very little to do with
human concerns.

A number of theories have been offered to account for this cosmic struggle.
A hypothesis adopted by many scholars has been that the elder deities, such
as the asuras, were the gods of races conquered by the people who worship
the gods. The asuras were the gods of pre-Vedic India, and presumably the
Jotnar and Titans would be the deities of the pre-Indo-European peoples of
their lands. However, this theory does not explain why gods and giants
should differ in function.

Although some of the Jotnar are allies of the Aesir - Aegir, for instance,
who brews ale in his cauldron so that the gods can feast in his undersea
hall, or Vafthruthnir, who teaches Odhin wisdom - their functions clearly
have to do with natural forces. Aegir is a god of the ocean; his wife Ran
rules the depths beneath the waves, who are their daughters. However, it is
the Van, Njordh, who watches over those who make their living on sea.
Fjorgyn is Earth, but Freyr and Freyja, the alfar and ármaðr,
"harvest-man", are involved to aid in farming. It is not the gods who are
the personified natural forces beloved of 19th century folklorists, but the
Jotnar.

The gods, be they Aesir or Olympians, can be seen as the product of
evolving human consciousness. Odhin, first of the Aesir to arise, gives us
the runes, the symbols and words of power by which the human intellect is
enabled to comprehend the world. The Jotun expresses the natural power,
while the god embodies the qualities needed for humans to deal with it. In
the myths, the Aesir are able to interbreed with Jotnar or humankind. The
stories of interaction between the gods and the giants can almost serve as
a chronicle of the changing relationship between evolving human
consciousness and the natural world.

Of all the Aesir, Thor, the thunderer and the great slayer of giants, is
the most elemental. He is the Son of Earth, and his rune is that of the
thurse (thurisaz). He joys in the chaos of the storm, but he can use its
energy to protect humankind. But his is not a war of extermination. In
Hárbarðsljóð, Thor tells us, "Great would be the clan of etins if all (the
etin-women he had slain) lived; there would be no humans in Miðgarðr". As
Gro Steinsland points out ("Giants as Recipients of Cult in the Viking
Age?", in Words and Objects), this is not a war of extermination, but of
balance.

For a long time, it was assumed that one distinction between Jotnar and
Aesir was that the giants were never worshipped. However, Steinsland has
demonstrated that the giants...did indeed receive cult worship in the
Viking Age. She proposes that Snorri's account of how the gods gave part of
the roasting ox to Thiazi while traveling to visit Utgard-Loki reflects an
ancient ritual in which offereings were made to the wilderness
powers...Skadi is not only the daughter of a giant, but the home she
inherited from him is listed among the holy halls of Asgard (see discussion
under "Skaði"). However, for the most part, the hallows of the Jotnar are
to be found in Utgard - "outside the garth" - in the wilderness beyond the
fields we know.

The Jotnar are elemental in character and force, associated with the
regions or environments in which they live (cliff-thurses, berg-rísi, or
mountain giants or trolls, rime-thurses, sons of Surtr, Aegir, Ran and the
waves, etc.). They rule the realm of Nature and can thus be viewed as
chieftains of the order of nature spirits appropriate to various
environments: the skogsrån or "wood-rulers" of the forest, who can bestow
blessings in exchange for offerings; the näckar or "nixies", sjoera,
lake-spirits, and forskarlar, waterfall-men, in the water; the duergar
(dwarves), who live under the earth, and the landvættir, or land-wights,
for a region in general. These are what the people at Findhorn in Scotland
call the devas, the spirits which inhabit and give health to the
environment, ranging from entities that express the spirit of a place or a
group or species of living things (such as a forest), to the spirits of
individual flowers or trees. Even during the Christian period they survived
in Faerie, in which noble races of elves are accompanied by all kinds of
sprites and goblins. In mediæval folklore, the Jotnar devolved into hags,
giants, and trolls, and their attendant nature spirits into dwarves,
dryads, and the like, but they continue to dwell outside the boundaries of
the human world.

But not all of the Jotnar live in the wilderness. Giantesses are co-opted
into the world of the gods as mothers and mates. In fact, a majority of the
Aesir are the children of Jotnar on one or both sides. Indeed, when an As
or Van seeks a bride outside Asgard, his only source of mates is in
Jotunheim. Scratch a goddess, and you are likely to uncover an etin-bride.
The courtships of Skadi and Gerd (see "Skaði, Gerðr, and other Etin-Brides"
- KHG) are particularly noteworthy, and it is significant that they are
married to Vanir, the gods most closely connected with the natural world.
Odhin himself sires children by a number of giantesses, most notably Jordh,
or Earth, the mother of Thor, and Rind, who bears him Vali. On the other
hand, those female Jotun who are not co-opted by marriage appear to be more
feared by the Aesir than are the males.

The male Jotnar slain by Thor are viewed as worthy antagonists who can
sometimes be tricked into sharing their wisdom or powers. But the females,
even Hyrokkin, whose strength is required to push Baldr's funeral ship out
to sea, evoke a primal terror. They are not only wild, but female, with all
of the suppressed power of both the feminine and the wilderness. In his
analysis of prayers to Thor, John Lindow identifies eight killings of
female Jotnar and four of male. "Thor was the defender of Asgard, as
Thorbjorn himself put it, against the forces of evil and chaos. These
forces seem, in the reality of peoples' lives...to have had a very strong
female component...If those who fight for order are male, then it is
appropriate that those who fight for disorder should be female"
("Addressing Thor", p. 127).

At this point a good feminist should say, "how like a man", but I think
that the causes of this hostility lie deeper than simple misogyny. Norse
culture in general approaches the feminine with a mixture of emotions,
seeing it as irrational and equating loss of (masculine) status with loss
of control, while at the same time retaining the memory of a long tradition
of reverence for women and belief in their superior spiritual powers. This
attitude is paralleled by equally ambivalent feelings about the world of
nature. Is it therefore surprising that the Jotnar - the primal powers of
nature - who are most feared should be personified as female?

Female biology makes it harder for women to suppress awareness of their
physical nature in the way that men often do, and though women are less
likely to seek battle, a woman once enraged may fight with a fury that
ignores the rules by which men like to conduct their wars (certainly some
of the women in the sagas are first-class bitches, and the men might have
been better off if their wives had been allowed to fight the bloodfeuds).
These generalizations reflect the social stereotypes of our culture; in
reality there is a considerable overlap between the genders in this regard,
and intellect, intuition, and the like are uniquely mixed in each
individual. Given this caveat, such social and biological factors may
explain why men have tended to link the feminine with Nature, which can be
both terrible and nurturing, as well as with the irrational, the
unconscious, and spiritual power.

Steinsland makes a good case for the survival of rituals addressed to the
Jotnar into the Viking Age. Rather than identifying this as a lingering
superstition, let us consider what function retaining a reverence for
powers first conceptualized at the birth of human culture might serve in a
supposedly more "civilized" age. The scholars who look upon myths of the
passage of power from Jotnar or Titans to the shining gods as a reflection
of an historical process may be seeing only part of the picture. A more
accurate way to describe the change might be as evolutionary. Evolution
does imply change over time, but this change can consist of alteration
within a continuing group as well as the replacement of one culture or
species by another.

The human brain is an excellent example of an organism which has developed
by adding new structures and functions to older ones. Most people today
have access only to the newer levels of consciousness, and are disturbed by
the "irrational" emotions that shake them when the older parts of the brain
are aroused. In the same way, our civilization thinks of itself as
"modern", and has trouble understanding the social movements that arise
when deeper needs revive older ways.

A major paradigm shift in our relationship to Nature is taking place this
century - a change that must occur if humanity is to survive. Ours is the
first generation to be aware of the fragility of the environment.
"Primitive" people retain an instinctive awareness that the only way to
survive in an environment that is more powerful than they are is by
learning how to live in harmony with its forces. But as civilization and
the development of technology have given humans more control over their
surroundings, Nature has become an adversary. In the natural world, birth
and death, creation and destruction, are parts of a continuing cycle in
which both are equally crucial to long-term survival. Modern man can accept
this theory so long as he remains insulated from realities by his
technology. But, especially in the ancient North, where the climate is
unforgiving, it is understandable that in the Viking Age the world outside
the walls of the garth should have been something to fear.

And yet, as Kirsten Hastrup shows in Culture and History in Medieval
Iceland, access to the actual or psychic wilderness was necessary for
magic. The outlaw, or "out-lier", is banished outside the boundaries of the
community, and yet that position may enable him to serve it in ways
impossible for those who stay safe within walls. "In the cases of both
hamrammr and berserkr there is a movement, in body on the one hand, in
personality on the other. Such movement seems to have been easily imagined,
in a world where every man had his fylgja, his double in wild space" (p.
153).

The tension is not only between order and chaos, but between control and
power. This is why Thor never kills all of the giants, why the Aesir seek
Jotun-brides, why Odhin goes to Vafthruthnir to seek wisdom - and why
worship at the shrines of Skadi and other Jotnar continued into the Viking
Age. From wilderness comes the energy that humans, like other species, need
to survive.

What will happen if humans forget how to balance this energy? Ragnarok
acquires a different meaning in each age. The Völuspá foretells a
simultaneous breakdown in the natural balance and the social order. Odhin
marshals the Einherjar and the gods march out for the last time to meet
their foes. When all is destroyed, "the Sun is blackened, earth sinks into
sea, the glorious stars are cast from heaven, steam and life-nourisher
(fire) gush forth, tall flames play up to heaven itself" (57). The order of
creation described in the early myths is being reversed. The world will
return to its primal elements once more.

For the ancient Norse, the fear was that natural forces would grow too
powerful. But science shows us that it is equally dangerous to suppress a
powerful force too far or too long. The film Koyaanisqatski (Philip Glass)
presented a frightening picture of a world out of balance. Whether the
Jotnar are allowed to rage unchecked or suppressed too completely, disaster
will follow. Today's vision of Ragnarok is of an age when natural cycles
have been pushed so far out of balance that only the most chaotic and
destructive of the forces of nature will remain.

Can this disaster be avoided? Early cultures, living in a world in which
the seasonal alternation of birth and death was more accepted than it is
today, tend to think in terms of cycles rather than of linear progression.
But though the Volva foresees destruction for the gods, the victory of
chaos is not final...

"She sees the earth coming up a second time from the sea,
renewed-green...the Ases find each other again on Iða-Plain...and they
remember the mighty doom for themselves there, and Fimbultýr's ancient
runes" (59). The process of creation is repeated, and once more Odhin's
runes give meaning to the world.

In a world of vanishing rainforests and global warming, it may seem that
the Time of Earth Changes foretold by more recent prophets such as Sun Bear
is unavoidable. In the long run this is probably true, for why should
either a physical body or the world be expected to last forever? For the
world, as for us, death should be viewed not as an extinction but as a
transformation so that the cycle can begin anew. Still, just as abuse of
one's body can shorten, or healthy living extend, a human lifespan, humans
have the power to hasten Ragnarok or to lengthen this age of the world.
With that power comes responsibility.

Environmentalists have provided us with more than enough information to
start work on the physical plane, and there should be no need to repeat
their instructions here. But those of us who follow the Way of the North
have an additional opportunity. We are already vowed to stand with the gods
- what we must do now is to understand their relationship to the Jotnar so
that we do not end up sabotaging our own side.

We need the giants as we need the wilderness, as a source of the
nourishment required for our physical and spiritual survival. They provide
psychological stability by aligning the powers of nature and protections at
the species level, for they are the spiritual ancestors of all living
things. Even abandoning intellect and technology and returning to the
primitive, but as we use the gifts of the gods, we should remember that
even Thor does not attempt to completely exterminate his enemies. These
days perhaps we ought to be supporting the Jotnar rather than fighting
them.

Jotun myths have to do with creation and cosmic patterning. In recreating
the myths we re-create the world. Along with the land-spirits, they shoud
therefore receive offerings and honour. When we seek to work in trance, to
draw on the deepest powers that lie hid in our own inner Utgards, the
Jotnar may even be invoked first in the ritual.

Like other forms of Paganism, the Northern branch of the Old Religion is an
Earth-religion. As Steinsland put it, "After all, it would be more
remarkable if Norse tradition should miss any ritual dealing with powers on
whom the whole of existence finally depended. The giants are as necessary
to the world as the gods are" (p. 221). In recreating the practice of Norse
religion, we should not forget to honour those powers.

Trolls

As spoken of above, "troll" is a wide term. The span of beings it has been
used for takes in land-wights, etin-kin, house-ghosts, unfriendly idises or
an enemy's patron (Þórgerðr is called flagd, "troll-wife", by Hákon's foes
in Jómsvíkinga þáttr), magicians, unclean ghosts, big ugly people, and
possibly walkurjas in their most unpleasant forms. Magic is still called
trolldom in modern Scandinavian dialects, and there is an Old Norse verb
trylla, "to enchant", so that it is possible that the noun could have first
meant only "magical being" and later been specialized into the "troll" of
folklore. The matter is made still more complicated for English-speakers by
the existence of a number of different non-specific terms for nasty wights,
all of which are translated as "troll" or "troll-wife" in English.

The kind of wight most true folk use the term "troll" for now is an
outdweller who is smaller than a mountain-giant (folkloric descriptions of
trolls have them ranging from human norm to perhaps ten or twelve feet) and
usually lives in cliffs or mountain crags. There is little doubt that they
are of Ymir's kin; Scandinavian folk-tales collected in the nineteenth
century still kept the memory of the thunderbolt as the weapon of a
troll-fighting deity. The trolls can easily be seen as the land-wights of
wild and rocky areas, and as such can be dangerous to the humans who come
into their realm: for instance, the Icelanders who went gathering
birds'-eggs on the cliffs had to be careful lest the trolls should cut
their ropes. However, trolls can also be befriended; there are quite a few
examples of them going out of their way to be helpful to human beings.
Folkloric descriptions of trolls and their actions also have much in common
with Old Norse beliefs about the draugar (walking dead), so that the troll
of folktales may encompass both "jötunn" and "draugr".

The etymology of "troll" is not certain; the word is probably quite old,
going back to Common Germanic. It may come from a root meaning "to roll",
and it has been suggested several times that the original "trolls" were
possibly first seen in ball lightning; in folk-tales, trolls often roll or
whirl around to travel at inhuman speed, some by means of special "Rolling
Breeches". The use of the general verb for magic may also suggest that this
"rolling" or "whirling" was seen as a magical activity, which in turn hints
at interesting possibilities for magical experimentation in the modern age.

Usually trolls are thought to be ugly, hugely strong, and not very bright,
in spite of which they manage to breed with humans once in a while. There
are several characters in the sagas who bear the name "Half-Troll", and
quite a few saga-heroes, such as Grettir inn sterki, Egill Skalla-Grímsson,
and Skarp-Heðinn Njálsson, who could easily be mistaken for trolls in a dim
light. Troll-women are especially desirous of human men: Hrimgerðr
expresses jealousy of Helgi's beloved Sváva, and there is an Icelandic
folktale about two troll-women who capture a man named Jón and try to feed
him up and stretch him to troll-size so that he will be of more use to
them. Another Icelandic folktale has a troll-woman calling a human man to
her with magic and keeping him until, over the course of three years, he
has turned completely into a troll himself. Oddly, there are fewer tales of
human women desired by troll-men; but one of the most dangerous insults one
Norseman could offer another was to say that he turned into a woman and had
sex with a troll every ninth night, as Skarp-Heðinn says to Flosi in
Brennu-Njáls saga. Unbelievable as the whole idea of periodical
transsexuality may seem, it was clearly considered serious in some light or
other, symbolically if not literally, as there were actually legal
proscriptions (in the Norwegian Gulaþing law) against the statement that a
man became a woman every ninth night (Ström, Folke. Níð, Ergi, and Old
Norse Moral Attitudes, p. 7).

"Trolls take you!" is a very common curse in Old Norse. This could,
apparently, mean both dragging away and actual spirit possession (or at
least the word "troll" could be used for a possessory spirit); in
Landnámabók (Hauksbók 15) Þórleifr Þjóstólfsson was said to be
"trollaukinn", which is normally translated as "possessed by a troll"
(literally, "made greater by a troll", though there is also the possibility
that this could be referring generally to a magical frenzy), and so was
Loðmundr hinn gamli (Hauksbók 250). Whether there was ever meant to be any
relationship between "trolls take you!" and the major insult mentioned
above is not known, but the possibility certainly exists.

Trolls are turned to stone by sunlight, and there are a number of
folk-tales about people who, chased by trolls, were only saved by the first
rays of the Sun. The same happens in Helgakviða Hjörvarðssonar, in which
the troll-woman Hrimgerðr is drawn into talking with Helgi and his man
Atli, and becomes a rock when the Sun rises upon her.

There are water-trolls as well as rock-trolls: Grettir does battle with
wights of this sort, and Hrímgerðr and her family specifically attacked
ships in their firth. Grendel, although he is called "þyrs" (thurse) and
his mother also seem to be more like water-trolls than anything else.

Occasionally trolls are also eaters of human beings, though this trait only
seems to show up in folklore.

Trolls particularly dislike Christian church-bells, a trait they share with
etins, alfs, dwarves, witches, and Heathens who have been up late feasting
on Saturday night.

Trolls are known for stealing beer out of the brewing-house. When they
offer drink to humans, it is better not to drink it; there are a number of
Scandinavian stories in which a fleeing rider tosses such a draft away, but
a few drops touch the horse's hide and singe the hair off it.

Quite often, trolls seem to be walking embodiments of change and disorder.
Sometimes they are helpful, more often troublesome, but whatever interacts
with them is never quite the same afterwards - they can be seen as smallish
zones of "wild magic".

Trolls are sometimes thought to take the form of house-cats, especially
while waiting for a rival to die. There are several variants on the story
in which a man is coming home and hears a voice telling him to tell his cat
that So-and-So is dead - and when he does, the cat exclaims in delight and
flies up the chimney or out the window.

There is no evidence for worship of the trolls, but there are stories which
show individuals befriending trolls, giving them gifts, or doing favours
for them. If you can find a troll that means well towards you, you are
lucky: an Icelandic proverb says, "trusty as a troll". When traveling in
the wilds, especially when rock-climbing, it does not hurt to make an
offering of food and drink to the trolls. According to Swedish folklore, a
troll which takes a gift from a human is bound to help that human ever
afterwards.

Muspilli

The Muspilli are the dwellers in Muspell-Home, the fiery southern realm.
They play no part in the myths; their name is difficult to etymologize, but
most suggestions have been forms of "destroyers of the world", and this
seems to be their sole function. Völuspá tells us that, "A ship fares from
eastward, the Muspilli shall come travelling over the water, and Loki
steers: the monsters' sons fare with all greedy ones, and Býleist's brother
(Loki?) fares with them" (p. 51). Snorri tells us in his Edda that Loki
shall have the hosts of Hel with him, but this is not supported by his
sources, as Snorri then separates Loki and his hosts from the Muspilli. In
the light of Snorri's chief known material, that of Völuspá, the collective
battle-array he presents - Hrymr and the rime-thurses, Loki and the hosts
of Hel, and Muspell's sons with their own formation - looks suspiciously
like a literary attempt to clarify and systematize the situation,
especially in regards to his strong presentation of the giants as foes of
the gods. Though we cannot ignore the possibility that Snorri might have
had some sources unknown to us, in this case he is directly contradicted by
the older material, which he actually quotes verbatim.

According to both Völuspá and Vafþrúðnismál, the chief figure of
destruction at Ragnarök is Surtr, the leader of the Muspilli and slayer of
Fro Ing, whose fires burn until there is nothing left to burn. Those
children of Ymir who do battle with the gods - Loki and his sons - exhaust
themselves in single combat: it is the flames of Surtr's sword which
actually end the age.

The belief in the Muspilli as the agents of the fiery death of the cosmos
may well be Common Germanic. This is suggested by the Old High German poem
Muspilli: otherwise an entirely Christian poem about Armageddon, its title
and the description of the destruction of the world by fire, as well as the
internal use of the native word "muspilli" for the end of the world, have
no parallels in Christian eschatological mythology, and very probably
reflect the survival of German beliefs. In the Old Saxon Heiland,
"mutspilli" appears as the personified end of the world, but in an even
more Christianized context, in which the theme of fiery annihilation has
been lost.

The Muspilli themselves - and not the etins, rises, thurses, or trolls -
seem to be the closest thing to unequivocally destructive forces which the
Germanic folk knew, the only absolute foes of all that lives and is. It is
little surprise that they appear only at the end of the world, and that
there is not the slightest hint that they ever interacted with the
god/esses in any way, or that they were ever given any worship by humans.

Contributors

Diana Paxson, "Utgard: The Role of the Jotnar in the Religion of the
North", from Mountain Thunder 5, pp. 11-15.

Lewis Stead and the Raven Kindred, from The Raven Kindred Ritual Book.




Chapter XXV

The Nine Worlds: Their Shaping and End

We know of the making and ending of the worlds from three sources: Völuspá, Vafþruðnismál, and Snorri's retelling in his Edda. As usual, the latter is the most complete and neatest, adding many details that the others leave out (for instance, the fires of Muspell-Home are not spoken of as part of the first world-shaping in either of the poetic sources).
In the eldest times, there was nothing except the ice of Nibel-Home (Níflheimr - world of misty darkness) in the North and Muspell-Home in the South. Between them stretched Ginnungagap ("gap charged with magical potential"). A number of rivers collectively called "Élivágar" ("Stormy Sea") flowed from the well Hvergelmir ("Bubbling Cauldron") in Nibel-Home, dripping down from its glacial edge. At the same time, sparks flew from Muspell-Home. When the two of them met in the middle, they whirled together and from them were born the hermaphroditic ur-etin Ymir ("Twin") or Aurgelmir ("the Roarer born from Sand") and the ur-cow Auðumla, "hornless cow with lots (of milk)" (Simek, Dictionary, pp.22, 24). Auðumla licked the glacier's salty rim and gave forth milk which fed Ymir; he slept, and the effluvia of his body brought forth a male and a female beneath his armpit, while one leg got a son on the other leg. Meanwhile, Auðumla's licking also brought a bright being forth from the ice - the ur-god Bun ("producer"), who then brought forth a son, Burr. Burr wedded with Bestla, the daughter of the etin Bölþorn (Bale-Thorn), and their sons were Wodan (Óðinn), Will (Vili), and Wih (Vé -"Holiness") - or, according to Völuspá, Óðinn, Hoenir, and Lóðurr.
Wodan and his brothers slew Ymir; the icy rime that flowed from his corpse became the sea, drowning all the etins except two, Bergelmir and his wife, who got away on a raft. All etin-kin today are descended from them. This story of the drowning of the etins also appears in Beowulf, being told in runes on the hilt of the sword which Beowulf brings up from the underwater hall of Grendel's mother. But Wodan and his brothers dismembered Ymir's corpse:
from his body they made the earth, his hairs became the trees, his bones the rocks, his skull the dome of the sky (held up by the four dwarves North, South, East, and West), and his brains the clouds; but with his eyebrows they fenced the inner world from the outer realm where Bergelmir and his kin dwelt, and that inner world is the Middle-Garth where we live. They took sparks from Muspell-Home and fixed them in the sky as stars; two other wights, a woman named Sun and a man named Moon, they set to drive a course across the sky. The Sun's horses are called Alsviðr (Very Fast) and Árvakr Early-Awake), or Skinfaxi (Shining-Mane), and her shield and a bellows must protect them from her heat; the Moon's horse is called Hrímfaxi (Rime-Mane), for he is cold. But one of Bergelmir's kin, the Hag of Iron-Wood, perhaps the same person as Loki's wife Angrboda?), bore two troll-sons, Skoll and Hati, who run after these drivers in the shape of wolves and will eat both Sun and Moon at Ragnarök.
As we see the worlds now, they are arranged both on a level plane and as a tree - the great World-Tree Yggdrasill (Ygg-Steed - a name speaking of Wodan's nine nights' hanging, as the gallows is often called the steed of the hanged). There are nine worlds: the Ases' Garth (or God-Home), Light Alf-Home (or Elf hame), the Middle-Garth (Middenerd, Middle-Earth, or Man-Home), NibelHome, Etin-Home, Muspell-Home, Wan-Home, Swart Alf-Home, and Hel -Home (which also includes Niflhel, "Misty-Dark Hel", a lower realm into which, according to Vafþruðnismál, "men die out of Hel").
On a level plain, there are four rings (see discussion of the Frowe's necklace); and the terms Middle-Garth and Ases' Garth probably derive from this plain-view, whereas Man-Home and God-Home are more general terms. The outer one is the Outgarth (Útgarðr), where all etins, trolls, and outlaws dwell: it is the realm of untamed might and wild magic. Between the Outgarth and the Middle-Garth lies the stormy sea under which the Middle-Garth's Wyrm twines in a ring. Simek suggests that this sea stems from the river Élivágar, which, in the "Skáldskaparmal" part of his Edda, Snorri identifies as the border of Etin-Rome (Dictionary, p.73). The passage between the worlds inside the great Garth and the Outgarth is often seen as a river, as in Hárbarðsljóð, where O6inn appears in the shape of a ferryman who might (but doesn't) take Þórr back across to Ásgarðr. The ring of the Middle-Garth is within that sea; and within it is a yet holier garth - the Garth of the Ases. The outer ring is split into four parts: Nibel-Home in the North, Etin-Home in the East, Muspell-Home in the South, and Wan-Home in the West (note: in Old Norse, heimr actually means "world", but it is the same word as our "Home"). Some like to call on the Nine Worlds as the eight winds around the Middle-Garth, in which case they are: Nibel-Home   North, Swart Alf-Home = Northeast, Etin-Home = East, God-Home = Southeast, Muspell-Home = South, Light Alf-Home = Southwest, Wan-Home = West, Hel-Home = Northwest. The winds of woe are those which blow from the East and the three Northern directions; the winds of weal blow from the West and the Southerly angles. However, the North is also the greatest source of might, and the East is also the direction of new birth. True folk today usually carry out their rites facing North for most things, East especially for Ostara's feast. Some also choose to face West for rites that deal especially with the Wans.
Seen as a tree, the worlds are arranged with God-Home at the crown, with Light Alf-Home between it and Man-Home. Around Man-Home, beyond the stormy waters, are the four elemental worlds: Nibel-Home (ice), Etin-Home (sometimes seen as air; in Thorsson's cosmology, venom), Muspell-Home (fire), and Wan-Home (water, or yeast). Nibel-Home is tilted downwards (often seeming to be actually set below Hel-Home), Muspell-Home upwards. Below Man-Home is Swart Alf-Home, and below that, Hel-Home. The World-Tree itself is usually understood as an ash, though many folk today think that it is actually a yew. The reasons for the latter are that it is called "needle-ash"; in Völuspá 20, it is said to be ever green (and an evergreen stood by the well at the Old Uppsala hof); and the Abcedarium Nordmannicum includes the verse "yew holds all". In Svipdagsmál, the World-Tree is also said to bring forth fruit, which sounds more like a yew than an ash. However, ideas differ: many true folk in Northern California, for instance, have found that their own vision of the World-Tree is as a redwood. In a larger view, the tree-shape is made of three realms pierced by the single axis: the Overworld (God-Home and Light Alf-Home, perhaps with the upper/southerly realm of Muspell-Home as well), the Middle World (Man-Home, Wan-Home, and Etin-Home), and the Underworld (Swart Alf-Home, Nibel-Home, and Hel-Home). Great rivers roar between the Middle-Garth and the Ases' Garth, and between the Middle-Garth and Hel-Home, as well as between the Middle-Garth and the worlds of the Outgarth. A like picture is described by shamans the world over; this universe-shape, and the waters which separate each realm from the other, are the most "objective" and least culture-specific elements of the realities beyond this world.
It may well be asked how, if the worlds are arranged so, the etin-kind (for instance) can also be seen as kin to the land-wights and dwelling in certain places that can be reached by travelers on this earth. The answer is that the sundry ways in which we can see the shaping of the worlds are not physical, but spiritual boundaries. The Nine Worlds are separate, but they also overlap and sometimes blend with each other. For instance, Skaði's home, Þrymheimr, was first owned by her father, who surely dwelt in the reaches of Etin-Home; yet in Grímnismál, it is counted among the holy dwellings within the garth of the gods. When Skaði married Njörðr, she and her realm became no longer spiritually part of the Outgarth, but of the holy lands within, although Þrymheimr still stands in the howling wilds. The parts of this earth that are the "Middle-Garth" are only those parts which are fenced and settled - the lands of humans. One may find the Ases' Garth on mountaintops or in holy groves; one may wander into the Outgarth, or walk into a cave and enter Swart Alf-Home. The holiest steads on this earth are those which have been marked off as the garth of the gods - the wihsteads - and to come into such a hallowed place is to step into God-Home. Such overlap can also be temporary, and happen even in an ordinary living room or cluttered bedroom. It is the aim and function of those rituals which are done at the beginning of all rites for the purpose of marking a place off as holy to bring the realms together in a single stead of might, in which the elder kin, the living kin, and the god/esses can meet for a time. Here, we see the special meaning of the Middle-Garth: we stand between all the worlds, and all of their mights are blended about us. The Middle-Garth is the realm of becoming, the heart of the Tree which both mirrors and shapes all that comes to pass in the other homes. When this world is whole and fares well, so it is with the worlds around us; but when things fare ill in the Middle-Garth, then we know that the whole of the World-Tree is ill at ease - and our works, our holy blessings and our most ordinary deeds, can help to shift the Tree's balance.
Another Norse view of the arrangement of the worlds, as described by Snorri, shows them as beneath the roots of the World-Tree. There are three great roots, one over the Ases' Garth, one over Etin-Home, and one over Nibel-Home.  As soul-lore, we understand that these three "roots" are the three stems of might - the white brightness of the Overworld (God-Home), the rawest red strength of the Middle World (Etin-Home), and the blackness of the Underworld (Nibel-Home), from which the strands of being are braided and the Tree and the worlds find their shape.  Beneath each root is a well - the Ases' well is the well of Wyrd, the etins' is the well of Mímir, and Hvergelmir stands in Nibel-Home. In The Well and the Tree (the work which laid the foundation for the whole following discussion of Wyrd) Paul Bauschatz showed that this triplicity was probably an over-systemization of three different levels, or aspects, of the Well. According to his model, which is accepted by many among both mundane academics and true folk,  Hvergelmir, the bubbling cauldron of venom, yeast, and icy water, is the lowest level and the source of raw might. Mímir's Well is the next level, that where all that is is kept and shapes the waters rising up from Hvergelmir. The highest level is Wyrd's Well, where the Norns lay ørlög and the Ases come to deem at their Þing. The roots of the Tree are sunken into the Well; the waters of Wyrd flow up again and again through its branches (the embodiments of time/space), shaping a new layer of events each time and dripping back. Those drops that fall into Hvergelmir - happenings of little worth - are simply recycled as part of the general might of the Well. Those that fall into Mímir's Well are the happenings that build on what is already set and help to bring it to being, without making any change. But those drops that fall into Wyrd's Well are the drops of might: these are the magical, ritual, or heroic actions that work the willed turnings of Wyrd.
According to Völuspá, the three Norns Urðr (Wyrd), Verðandi (Werþende - Becoming), and Skuld (Should [Become]) "lay laws and choose lives" at the Well of Wyrd. These Norns, the embodiments of causality, are probably the three maids spoken of in stanza 8, "maids of the thurses, awful and mighty, (come) out of Etin-Home)". They are the great ones who shape the wyrd of the worlds; but the greatest of them is Wyrd, for it is by her might that the other two work. Superficial texts often explain the Norns as "Past, Present, and Future", but this is not correct: the Germanic time-sense is not triple, like that of the Greeks and Romans (from whom contemporary Western culture inherited it) but dual. For our forebears, there was only the great structure of "that-which-is", in which the eldest and the youngest layers were at the same time and the one was just as close and real as the other, and the current moment, "that-which-is-becoming". There was no sense of future as such: spae-sayings, that told of what "should" happen, were literally statements of Wyrd - that-which-is, seen with the wisdom that knows what must then arise as the effect of an existing cause. This is one of the reasons why the religion of the North has always placed so much trust in forebears and tales of old, why the Germanic peoples have often been accused of living in the past and dreams of the past - we, like Wodan, ever have one eye in the Well of Memory and one eye on the moment of becoming. To us, that-which-is, "the past", is not gone or lost: it is forever living and green, and more, it is the source from which all springs, even as the roots are the source of the tree. New branches can spring forth if the crown is chopped off; but the destruction of the roots is the end:
and thus it is with our folk. To lose the ways of our forebears - to lose our foothold in that-which-is, or get too far from their thoughts and beliefs - is to be rootless trees and to die. Yet the roots need the strength and growth they get from the branches and leaves as well; so it is likewise part of our troth to feed the old lore with what we learn, to give our worship to our forebears and the hero/ines of elder days, and to make the whole Tree greater by so doing.
The image of the World-Tree growing from the Well of Wyrd, with the Nine Worlds in its branches and roots, is the center point of the Troth - the axis of the worlds. Our forebears often carried out their worship around holy trees; the Continental Saxons had the Irminsul ("Great Pillar" - destroyed by Charlemagne in 772), which was probably their earthly embodiment of the World-Tree. In our hofs and homes, it is represented by the high-seat pillars or the Bairnstock: it is the heart of every holy stead. Grønbech mentions that "At first sight (the description of the three worlds/wells under the  three  roots)  impresses  the  reader  as  lacking  inner coherence.. but it is by no means improbable that the altar contained several representations of the water... The sacred tree and the well belonged to the holy place outside, but the principle of the blot rendered it indispensable that they should be represented on the altar. When it is said that the rivers take their rise in the center of the world, it is identical to saying that they flow from the feast and spring from the ideal - i.e. the real - world situated on the altar in the sacrificial place" ('I, p.195).
The Tree itself is home to many wights. On the top sits an eagle, with a falcon perched between his eyes; the dragon Nith-Hewer (Níðhöggr) coils about its roots, with a nest of lesser wyrms who gnaw at it. The squirrel Ratatosk runs up and down to carry malicious messages between dragon and eagle. There are four stags
- Dáinn, Dvalinn, Duneyr, and Duraþror - who gnaw at the bark; as spoken of in "Alfs, Dwarves, Land-Wights, and Huldfolk", these are probably dwarves in their daylight shape, since Dáinn and Dvalinn are two of the greatest among the dwarves. In his Edda, Snorri also tells us that the Norns take water and mud from the well every day and pour it over the Tree to heal its hurts and keep it from rotting, and that the water is so holy that whatever is put into the well turns white as an egg's membrane. He adds that the drops falling onto the earth are called honeydew, and bees feed on it; also that there are two swans that feed in the Well.
The Norns are also compared to spinners and weavers (as in the beginning of Helgakviða Hundingsbana I), and this image offers another way at looking at being and causality, as told by Eric Wodening:

the process of wyrd can be seen as the process of spinning thread and weaving cloth. To understand this comparison, one must know a little bit about spinning and weaving.
Thread is spun by using a spindle and a distaff to twist animal (wool) or vegetable (flax, nettle, or cotton) fibers. A bundle of the fiber is wound loosely around the distaff, which is held in one hand or tucked in one's belt. The spindle is a smaller, tapered rod, the turning of which gives the twist, and around which the thread is wound as it is twisted.
Weaving itself is a process whereby a set of crosswise threads, the woof are interlaced with a set of lengthwise threads, the warp. Each warp thread is stretched out parallel to the others upon the loom. The woof thread is then passed back and forth between the warp threads by way of the shuttle. A comb is afterwards used to force each individual woof thread against the one before it, thus forming the woven cloth or web. The web is then taken up on a roll, or cloth beam, at the front of the loom. As weaving continues more warp is provided by way of a roll at the back of the loom, the warp beam.
Viewing the process of wyrd as one of spinning and weaving, then, the various actions occurring throughout the Worlds would be the fibers used in the spinning. Some of those fibers, those with no real impact on the worlds, would be useless for spinning and would be thrown out. Other fibers, those with some impact on the worlds, would be spun into thread. These threads would consist of fibers related to each other in some way. Each person's life would make up a thread, and the significant actions in his life would make up the fibers.
Within the process of weaving itself, series of interrelated actions taking place in the present would make up the woof threads. The influence of the past upon the present would be the warp, through which the present passes back and forth according to the ørlög spoken by the Wyrdæ, which acts as the shuttle. The past -the great realm of "that-which-is" - is represented by the web itself, ever growing as more and more woof is woven in with the warp.
Seeing the process of wyrd as one of spinning and weaving emphasizes the interconnectivity of all things. Consider, each thread represents a number of interrelated actions. These threads are
further interlaced with, and structured by, influences from the past ("warp threads") to form one great web.
Of course, some "threads" would be more closely related to each other than they would to yet other threads. A husband's life (his "thread") would be more related to his wife's than that of a total stranger. In such cases where threads are interrelated through kinship, alliance, and so on, it may be safe to say that such interrelationship are manifested as "patterns" upon the web of Wyrd, not unlike the patterns found in a tapestry or carpet. The web of Wyrd, then, is a colorful cloth indeed.

Within this web, or the branches and roots of the Tree, we find the Nine Worlds, each with a shape and might of its own. Some of these are well-known; some have yet to be sought further into.
Hel-Home is divided into Hel's realm - which, despite Snorri (see "Soul, Death, and Rebirth") seems not to be a bad place - and "Niflhel", that worst of realms where those go whose deeds have made them outcast from all the halls of god/esses. That is the hall the seeress of Völuspá sees standing "far from the Sun on Corpse-Strand, with doors turned towards the north - drops of venom fall in around the smoke-hole; the hall is all wound with the spines of wyrms.. There she saw main-sworn men and murder-wargs wading the swift-flowing stream. There Níðhöggr sucks dead corpses, and the warg slits men" (38-9). The river that runs between Hel-Home and the other worlds is crossed by a broad bridge, the Gjallarbrú (Resounding Bridge), warded by the etin-maid Móðguðr (Brave Battle) who, as described in Snorri and Helreið Brynhildar, challenges those who would pass. In the soul, Hel-Home is also the realm of the deep subconscious. It is to Hel-Home that spae-seers fare to bring forth their wisdom, as Óðinn called forth the völva of Baldrs draumar, and it was in Hel-Home, at the roots of the worlds, that the runes shone forth to Wodan as he gazed down from where he hung on the World-Tree.  Of the geography of Swart Alf-Home, Light Alf-Home, and the four "elemental worlds" we know little or nothing. However, we know much about God-Home. It is seen as being either on top of a mountain or at the World-Tree's crown, and is reached by crossing the rainbow bridge called Bifröst, "the shaking road to heaven" or Bilröst, "the fleetingly glimpsed rainbow" (Simek, Dictionary, pp. 36-7). In Grímnismál, Óðinn tells us a great deal of lore about the god/esses and their dwellings. There are twelve great halls counted as part of God-Home: Þórr's Þrymheimr (Home of Strength), UlIr's Ýdalir (Yew-Dales), Valaskjálf (Crag of the Slain) or Válaskjálf (Váli's Crag) - either ruled by (Óðinn or Váli; alas, the manuscript has no acute-marks, so there is no way to tell which was the original meaning - Sökkvabekkr (Sunken-Benches), where (Óðinn and Sága drink together, Glaðsheimr where Valhöll stands, Skaði's Þrymheimr, Baldr 's Breiðablik (Wide-Gleaming),  Heimdallr 's Himinbjörg (Heaven-Mountain, which is also the name of Denmark's highest, or rather least low, hill), Freyja's Fólkvangr (Army-Plain), Forseti's Glitnir (Glistening), Njórðr 's Nóatun (Ship-Garth), and Víðarr's land, Víði (The Wide). Freyr's Alfheimr is also named, but not numbered, perhaps because it is a whole different world (though, as the Ases and alfs are so close together, it may still be thought of as within the holy garth). As well as these, Frija has her own hall, Fensalir, and we may guess that many of the other less well-known god/esses have theirs as well; it is unlikely that Tiw, for instance, does not possess his own dwelling and judgment-seat. Whether a full tally would agree or not, however, twelve is one of the great numbers by which our forebears counted holy things (along with nine, three, and their various multiples); and the gods and goddesses are also tallied respectively as twelve and twenty-four. It has been suggested that the twelve halls of Grímnismál correspond to the signs of the Zodiac, beginning with Þrúðheimr in Capricorn and ending with Víði in Sagittarius, and certainly similarities can be seen by those who want to see them; this is not necessarily a reflection of our forebears' star-lore, but has found a place in the practices of some today.

For human folk, the span of life-age (aldr) is given at birth; and so it is with the worlds: they shall not last forever, and the manner of their ending is well-known - the final battle which is called Ragnarök, "The Doom of the Gods". A corrupt form, ragna rökr ("Twilight of the Gods") appears in "Lokasenna" 39 and Snorri's  Edda.  This  has  led  to  the  German  translation "Götterdämmerung", best known as the title of the last opera in Wagner's Ring Cycle (the one in which it is proven that a good Heldentenor can sing on for half an hour with a spear through his lungs).
One of the oldest descriptions of Ragnarök, and certainly the clearest, is found in the poem Völuspá, (the "Spae of the Völva"), in which an ancient etin-seeress tells Óðinn of the beginning of the worlds and their end. This poem was probably composed around 1000 CE, when the end of the world was much on the minds of Christian Europe and the fate of the gods a matter of some concern to the Heathens of Scandinavia. The author's own spiritual orientation is unknown: some elements suggest a degree of Christian contamination (for instance, the stanza that begins with the Sun turning black is from the book of Revelation, and contradicts the poem's earlier reference to the troll-wolf swallowing her), but the general attitude is one of love and respect towards the Heathen god/esses, so that Völuspá is often thought to have been produced by a person of mixed troth. Still, whoever the composer was, s/he was clearly rich in old lore.
Certain signs will lead up to the last battle. According to Vafþruðnismál, there will come a time called "Fimbulwinter" (the Great Winter), which Snorri describes as three very hard winters with no summer between them. Brothers will battle and slay one another, and sister-sons will destroy their sibs. It will go hard with the world; there will be an ax-age, a sword-age, a wind-age, a warg-age before the world ends, and no human shall spare another. Then Eggþér, the troll-woman's herdsman who watches from the mound where he sits, shall gladly strike his harp. The fair-red cockerel Fjalarr shall answer him from the gallows-tree (or the great tree" - text uncertain, but Yggdrasill is probably meant here); then Gullinkambi, the gold-crowned cockerel of the Ases who keeps watch for Óðinn, shall crow, and he shall be answered by the soot-red cockerel from Hel's hall beneath the earth. The hound Garmr will bay mightily before Gnipahellir (perhaps the cave at the entrance to Hel?), and fetters shall be broken; Yggdrasill shall tremble, and the etin probably Loki) shall be loosed. All shall be fearful on the Hel-ways. Hrymr comes from the East, lifting his shield before himself, and Jörmungandr (the Middle-Garth's Wyrm) turns in etin-mood; the wyrm thrashes the waves, but the eagle screams, slitting corpses with his beak, and Naglfar (the ship made of dead men's nails) is loosed. A ship fares from the East: the Muspilli shall come traveling over the water, and Loki steers; the monsters' sons fare with all greedy ones, and Býleist's brother (Loki?) fares with them.. How fare the Ases? Row fare the alfs? All Etin-Home resounds, the Ases are at Ping; the dwarves groan before stone-doors, rock-wall's princes.  Surtr fares from the South with the harmer-of-twigs (fire), the slain gods' sun (fire) shines from sword. The cliffs collapse, and troll-women wander, heroes tread the Hel-way, and the heaven is cloven. Then Hlín (Frigg) has a second sorrow, when Dáinn fares to battle the wolf, and Beli's Bane (Freyr), bright, against Surtr; then shall Frigg's sorrows fall upon her. Then the mighty son of Sigfather, Víðarr, comes against the Beast of the Slain; with his hand he lets the blade stand in the heart of Hveðrung's son; thus is his father revenged. The girdle-of-Earth (Middle-Garth's Wyrm) yawns aloft, the terrible jaws of the Wyrm gape on high. Óðinn's son shall meet the Wyrm. . .then comes the mighty son of Hlóðyn  (Earth). . he slays in fury, Middle-Garth's Warder; all heroes must ride from home-steads; Fjörgyn's bairn steps back nine feet from the Adder, fearing no shame. The Sun is blackened, earth sinks into sea, the glorious stars fall from heaven; steam gushes forth with life-nourisher (fire), tall flames play up to heaven itself.
She (the Völva) sees the earth coming up a second time from the sea, renewed-green; waterfalls stream down, an eagle flies above, hunting fish from the fell. The Ases find each other on IðaFields, and deem concerning the mighty earth-rope (the Middle-Garth's Wyrm - likely speaking with honor of Þórr's battle against it), and remember the mighty doom for themselves there, and Fimbultýr's ancient runes. And afterwards they must find the wondrous golden tafl-pieces in the grass there, which they had in earliest days. Unsown acres shall wax, and all bale be made better. Baldr shall come; Höðr and Baldr shall dwell there, the Slain-Gods well in Hroptr's sig-steads (Valhöll?).  Then Hoenir shall be able to choose the lot-woods, and the two brothers shall dwell in wide Wind-Home.  She sees a hall stand, fairer than the Sun, thatched with gold, in Gimlé. There shall the doughty troops dwell, and enjoy the pleasures of ancient days. Then the mighty one shall come to the gods' deeming, powerful, from above, who rules all. Then the dark dragon shall come flying, the Adder forth from below, from Niða-Fells; Níðhöggr bears corpses in his feathers, flies over the field - now she shall sink (speaking of the seeress who has finished her prophecy; an alternate manuscript has "now he shall sink", speaking of the dragon)".
Vafþruðnismál adds to this that two humans, Líf (Life) and Lífþrasir (Stubborn Will to Live, or Striver After Life), will survive by hiding themselves in "Hoddmímir's (Treasure-Mímir's) Wood", and nourish themselves on morning dew. "Hoddmímir's Wood" is often taken to be the World-Tree, or its young shoots. The etin Vafþrúðnir also says that the Sun shall bear a daughter before the wolf (here, Fenrir) swallows her; that Víðarr and Váli shall dwell in the wih-steads of the gods when Surtr's flames are slaked, and Móði and Magni shall have Mjöllnir. Likewise, he mentions that Njörðr shall return to Wan-Home. Interestingly, Wan-Rome is the only worlds which is not specifically mentioned as being disturbed by Ragnarök: the alfs are coupled with the Ases, Etin-Home resounds and the mountains fall, the dwarves groan, the Muspilli are on the move, Nith-Hewer is stirred from his stead in Nibel-Home, and even Hel is not untouched by the world-shaking last battle. Only Wan-Home and the Wans (apart from Fro Ing, the world's last warder) take no known part in it - though some may perhaps see their might in the rising of the new earth from the sea.
Snorri's version of Ragnarök differs from the poems in only a couple of particulars: he adds the hosts of the frost-giants and Hel to those fighting against the gods; he informs us of a few more single combats (Heimdallr and Loki, Týr and Hel's hound Garmr, shall slay each other; and Freyr fights against Surtr with a stag's antler); and, according to him, Víðarr does not stab Fenrir, but rips his jaws apart with a great leather boot made from the cast-off scraps of all human leather-workers. The last element is thought to preserve an older tradition; the motif of the beast who swallows someone whole, only to be ripped apart so that the swallowed one may spring alive from its belly, appears frequently in Germanic folk tales ("Little Red Riding Hood" probably being the best-known example), and many true folk think that this shows that Wodan shall come forth again in some form - perhaps embodied in one of his kinsmen. In Runelore, Edred Thorsson suggests Hoenir, who now handles the lot-woods (runes); Óðinn's sons Balder and/or Höðr and/or his avenger Víðarr are all also possibilities. Þórr's might is reborn in M6~i and Magni (and, we may expect, Þrúðr as well): his Hammer, like the sword of the Völsungs and Týrfingr, is the embodiment of the Thonarings' clan-soul, passed on and brought forth in generation after generation.  As for the "mighty one" of Völuspá, there are different readings. Some see this stanza as a Christian interpolation giving the southerners' god a place among ours; others compare it to the section of Hyndluljóð which is called "Völuspá hin skamma" (the Short Spae of the Völva), in which a "mighty one" who, because of his birth from nine mothers, is generally thought to be Heimdallr, is spoken of in similar terms (see "Heimdallr"). As Jarnsaxa Thonar's concubine) is one of the nine women named in Hyndluljóð, the possibility that these references could perhaps speak of Magni - physically the mightiest of the Ases, even at three years old - has been suggested as well in Freya Aswynn's runic correspondence course.
To true folk, Ragnarök is not something to be feared, no more than death is; the two are essentially the same on different levels. The great beasts of death for our forebears were the wolf and the wyrm (in its various shapes from maggot to dragon); Surtr's fires might well be seen as the flames of the funeral pyre leaping up to eat the whole of the world - as they do for the individual at cremation. However, as spoken of in "Soul, Death, and Rebirth", death takes many shapes, and many things may lie beyond it, according to how life is lived and how death itself is met. Thus, our need is to strengthen ourselves and the god/esses so that it will be possible for them to fulfill their parts in the battle and for the new world to be born again. It could happen at any time - "the gray wolf gapes ever at the gods' dwelling" - and we must be ready for it. This is not a call to stockpile guns, as some Christians do in the expectation that their myth of Armageddon will soon play itself out in physical form; rather, our readiness lies in warding and healing the Earth, in strengthening our own selves so that we will be able to fight alongside the holy ones when the time comes, and - most of all - in seeking to know the god/esses, to work with them, and to give them might and bring them through more strongly into this world by holding the blessings of the seasons and living as true folk who call on them every day.

Contributors

Freya Aswynn, Elder (Runic Correspondence Course, Lesson 8)
Sunwynn Ravenwood, in "Letters from Midgard", Idunna V, ii, 19
(For-Litha 1993 CE)
Eric Wodening, Elder-in-Training, from "Heathen Cosmography",
Idunna V, i, 18 (Rhedmonth 1993 CE)





Chapter XXVI

Soul, Death, and Rebirth

The "soul" of our forebears was made up of many different elements, woven together to become a whole being. As Thorsson points out, "the strong body-soul split so heavily emphasized in christianity is missing in true soul-lore. We would rather talk of a body-soul-mind complex for a more complete understanding not only of what the parts are, but also how they relate to one another" (A Book of Troth, p.90). As usual, accounts of these elements vary from place to place and time to time. In modem times, several folk have written clear and organized descriptions of the various parts of the soul and the ways in which they work together, though whether our forebears were so systematic is open to question. Some folk find these models extremely useful; some do not. Probably the most precise version of such a model is that drawn out by Edred Thorsson in A Book of Troth, which shows the different elements of the whole-self as overlapping, interwoven rings (p.91).

Swain Wodening has thoroughly analyzed the soul-lore of the Anglo-Saxons, conning up with a system that is similar, though not identical, to Thorsson's. He uses the Saxon English term *ferth to describe all of the non-physical parts of the body-soul complex except for the fetch (see below). This part survives death, and is capable of seeing or traveling into the other worlds even when still in the living body. The ferth was to the forebears what "the self' is to modem psychologists.
Contained within the soul are the memory, intellect, and emotions. The Old English knew these as the mind (OE mynd), high (OH hyge, ON hugr), and mood (OE mód). The mind can be broken down further into the gemynd (OS) or min (OH myne), and the orþanc (ur-thought). The min is the personal memories of deeds done in one's lifetime as well as knowledge and wisdom learned. The orþanc, on the other hand, is inborn thought, ancestral memory, and/or instinct. Some might call it the collective unconscious. It is tied to the fetch and one's orlõg, personal and clanic. It contains all the deeds, lessons, and errors of forebears and adopted forebears formerly linked to the soul's fetch for use by the individual. While the orlõg is the shilds (debts) and meeds (rewards) of past deeds waiting to be dispensed, the orþanc is the memory of the deeds themselves.
The high, like the mind, can also be broken down. The high is made of the angit (OE andget), sefa (OE), and wit. The angit is the five senses, that which collects information from the world around us. The angit is the "intelligence agency of the ferth. While the angit collects knowledge, it is the sefa that uses this information. The sefa is the seat of reasoning and thought. However, the angit's and the sefa's reasoning are worthless without the wit. One could think of the angit as a computer keyboard, the sefa as a data processing program, and the wit as memory retrieval (with the mind being ROM).
While the mind and high are easy to explain, the mód and wode (OE wod - also modernized to wood or simply wod) are not. The mod is the seat of emotions, and alongside the wode and the will (OE willa), it is one of the most runic or dern (secret) parts of the soul. The mod governs all emotions from the simplest to the most complex. The mod is also linked to such qualities as boldness and are (honour). In Old English, it was combined with many words to express states of mind (i.e. deormodig -bold of mind), much as the word "heart" is used today (i.e. bold-hearted). Often mod was used in place of ferth or high, hut one must realize it was used as we use the word "heart'.
If the mod isn't complex enough, its brother aspect, the wode, is even more so. while the mod governs emotions such as bravery, the wode reigns over everything from ecstasy and madness to inspiration. Wode is the actor's adlib, the athlete's drive, the fury of the berserker, and the inspiration of the shope and gleeman.  Its common thread is its unrelenting drive akin to obsession, and its ability to well up out of nowhere. Some compare it to psychologist Rollo May's daimonic which uncontrolled leads to madness, but used with wisdom can accomplish great deeds (note: even the Gothic christian Ulfila translated daimonizomenos and daimonistheis
"possessed by a daimon", as wods - KHG). The wode is Woden's domain, and to understand wode is to better understand the god. Strangely enough, wode was the gift of Willa, the god of the will, in the Prose Edda (and of ~ brother Hoenir in Voluspá - KHG). Whereas the wode seems to well up inspiration within us seemingly from without, it is the will that brings self-determination from within. It is the will controlling the wode that allows us to fight negative orlóg or to flow with it. The will is the part of the ferth that allows us to bring thoughts from the high or inspiration from the wode into physical reality on Middenerd. Using the will one can call forth main from unseen places. And by using the will to harness the wode one may do most anything, for the will can call forth the wode instead of waiting for the wode to well upon its own.
Where the will fails, luck may prevail. Tied to the ghost is one's luck which in Old English was called speed (OE spæd), craft (OE cræft), main (OE mægen), thracu (OE), and might (OF miht). Strength and thew were sometimes used occasionally. Speed or main is the luck or power of the individual which determines the chances of success in any undertaking. It is the same as the Old Norse concept hamingia, as far as hamingja meaning luck and not the fetch faring hame. Speed is tied to eldorlog or orlog, and as such is passed down family lines. Good deeds add to main while evil deeds take away main. The dispenser of main as regulated by one's orlóg is the fetch (ON fy1gia, or "follower').
The Anglo-Saxons had no recorded word for fetch, although fecce-mare (fetch-demon) appears in a 9th century document (it is possible that the scribe meant mere, a female horse). The first appearance of fetch as a written word outside of a compound was in the Scottish dialect, where the word wraith (ON vorðr - warder or guardian) also arose with a similar meaning. The fetch is an independent being attached to one's soul for life, so long as one does not grow too wicked. The fetch records all one's deeds in one's orlóg. The orlóg, also called elder1og and orlaw (or ur-law), is the record of all the deeds committed by all who have belonged to the fetch, and determines how much speed or main a person will receive. The fetch, orlóg, and speed are passed down family lines, even to adopted family members. The fetch may serve as a warder or guardian, though this aspect is usually left to ides and wælcyrge (See chapters on "Idises" and 'Walkurja"). The fetch usually appears as an animal compatible to the personality of the individual it serves, or a member of the opposite sex.  One usually will not see one's fetch outside of dreams until just before death, when it will lead the soul to its abode in the hereafter. One may send one's fetch forth to get knowledge from the other worlds...
The high, mind, mod, and speed are contained in the hame (OE hame, ON hamr), hide (OH hid), or shinehue (OH scinnhiw). The hame is the energy/matter form underlying the body, and contains the ferth after death or when faring forth. It is the hame that allows us to see ghosts. You might wish to think of it as the astral image or ectoplasm. It looks like the body its ferth belongs to, though powerful runesters, witches, wights, and gods can shape-shift theirs. It is sent with the ferth when faring forth from the body, leaving the athem behind to keep the body alive. The Old English knew this as shinelock (OE scinlac) or shinecraft (OF scincræft), the ability to send one1s hamr from the body to appear somewhere else. The hame is the skin of the soul; without it the ferth's energies would be lost among all else.
The link between body and soul is the athem (OE æþem), also called the blead (OE blæd), edwist (OE), and eldor (OE). The athem is the breath of life; a related term, ande (OF anda) is cognate to ON ónd, one of the three gifts of the gods to humankind. The athem is the animating principle of the body, or in Latin the animus. It holds the ghost to the body, and this bond is needed to maintain normal life in Middenerd. In other philosophies and sedes (religions, customs), this could be seen as "the silver cord' Without it the soul would leave the body and move on to the abodes of Hell, Folkwang, or Waleball. In order for this bond to stay, the athem is fed with energies from the food we eat, the water we drink, and the air we breathe. Main is sent across the athem to the lich. This can be shown in the Old English rnanuscripts by the uses of athem and blead for breath, and edwist and eldor for physical nourishment. Upon death the athem, dissolves, setting the ferth free to leave the lich forever. Should the athem fail to dissolve, the result could be the draugr (ON - OE gidrog) or walking dead of the sagas.
Native English words for the body are flaw or tich (OH lic). During life the soul is contained in the 11th which allows us to live in Middenerd As such, one should see the lich and ferth as one great whole. Without the ferth the lich would be a vegetable, without the raw the soul would find it hard being in Middenerd. It is the lich that allows the ferth time to obtain wisdom in a friendly abode (Middenerd) before faring on to another.
Interestingly, the parts of the ferth-lich complex (minus the warders) number nine, mirroring in a way the nine worlds of Yggdrasil. However, such a comparison truly isn't feasible, but it leaves us something to ponder on (perhaps while browsing through Bosworth-Toller' s Anglo-Saxon Dictionary or the O4ord English Dictionary).


In his Culture of the Teutons (vol. I, pp.248-270), Vilbeim Ortanbech undertakes, among other things, an analysis of the vanous words used by the Norse for parts of the soul. Some of these, particularly hugr and munr, are in common use among Asatruar today; others are more obscure.
In Old Norse, the word hugr can mean thought, bravery, or general mood; one can be in good or ill hugr, for example. Thorsson uses the term hugr, or 'hugh', specifically for the intellectual/rational part of the mind -the left hemisphere of the brain. However, the Norse often used the word to mean intuition; it is the hugr that passes knowledge gathered by various soul-parts to the consciousness. It can be used for the general psychic-emotional complex as well. As Gronbech says, "(Hugr) inspires a man's behavior, his actions and his speech are characterized according to whether they proceed out of whole hugr, bold hugr, or downcast hugr. . - when the hugr is uneasy, as when one can say with Gudrun, "Long have I hesitated, long were my hugrs divided within me", then life is not healthy. But when a man has followed the good counsel from the within, then there rises from his soul a shout of triumph, it is his hugr laughing in his breast" (I, p.250).
Munr can mean memory; it can also mean desire. After the model of Wodan's ravens,  Huginn  ('Thoughtful'  or  "Bold")  and  Muninn ('Mindful" or "Desirous'), true folk today often couple the hugr and munr as thought and memory/left-brain and right-brain/analytic intellect and creativity.
Aldr, "life-age", is seen as one's store of life, which is given at birth by the idises or noms (see "Idises'), but can be taken away or lessened by dishonorable deeds, or in light: Gronbech mentions that "A man can hazard his aldr and lose it, he can take another man's aldr from him in battle. Aldr is the fiör (life) residing in the breast, which the sword can force its way in to bite' (I, p. 255). It determines both the quantity and the quality of life.
Fjör is the life itself, encompassing both consciousness and luck.

	Ond, "life-breath", is Wodan's gift. It can also be used as a general word meaning "soul", or "awareness (as opposed to the wild inspiration of wod). As the Flateyjarbok saga of "St. Ólafr" (quoted below) shows, this breath/awareness was one of the elements which could be reborn, and bore a specific individual character.
Móðr, like its Saxon cognate mod, means bravery. However, in Old Norse it is often used very specifically for a state of intensity in which one suddenly brings forth all one's innate powers. For instance, when fording the swollen river on his way to Geirröðr's dwelling, Þorr must take on his "Asmóðr". when the great Wyrm Jörmungandr wakens at Ragnarók to thrash the seas, he takes on his "jötunmóðr", as does the etin who built the walls of the Ases' Garth when he realizes that the gods have tricked him and goes into a rage.
The hamingia is one's store of psychic power and "luck". It is possible to lend part of one's hamingja to other folk; hamingja, like aldr, speed, and other related elements, is made greater by deeds of honor and lessened by dishonor.
Might and main (or "main-strength"), máttr ok meginn, usually appear together. They speak of a blending of earthly strength and soul-strength -the exertion of all physical power together with total concentration and spiritual force.  To our forebears, bodily might and soul-might could hardly be separated; one often reflected and perhaps even shaped the other. Meginn, in particular, was the strength that supported the soul, while máttr was more the strength of the muscles.
Orlog, the "ur-law", is the root of being: it is the first layer of Wyrd which shapes all that follows. To be "without orlog" is not to exist in any meaningful way; in Voluspa, the phrase is used of the logs on the beach before (Óðinn, Hoenir, and Lóðurr make them into human beings. Orlóg is that which determines how all of life shall be shaped, from beginning to end: it is the that-which-is, the wyrd of the individual.
The hamr, or hide/hame, is, as Swain describes, the "astral body" underlying the physical shape. Shape-shifters, such as Egill's grandfather Kveld-Ulfr, are said to be hamrammr (hide-mighty) or eigi einhamr (not one-hided).
Together with the fylgja, or fetch, there are also other warding-wights tied to the soul, most particularly the sort which has previously been called the "valkyrja" but, as discussed in "Walkuijas", probably was not known as such by our forebears. In Volsunga saga, however, there is a description of Sigmundr's last battle in which the Vólsung is bloody to the elbows, "but his spae-idises helped him so that he was not wounded" - These women are clearly not walkurjas, as this is the battle in which Oðinn has decided that Sigmundr shall die; but they are both protective and, as the name spae-idis" shows, wise and foresighted. This is the role which the thrice-reborn Sváva/Sigrun/Kara plays to the thrice-reborn Helgi, and perhaps the role to which Sigrdrifa has been demoted from her former station as walkurja: warder, rede-giver, and soul's shining bride or Higher Self, who also incorporates elements of the Jungian anima. Although there are no sources showing a manly warder, rede-giver, and soul's shining husband for women, if the anima/animus theory is indeed valid here, we may guess that women's Higher Selves may appear in manly shape, and be called "spae-alfs". These wights cannot be commanded or controlled: although they are part of the soul, they seem to have their own consciousness, and indeed perhaps to serve as a bridge between their humans' individual awarenesses and the specific godless to whom the individual's soul is closest.
Many families have a kin-fetch, who appears as a great woman clad in armour in both Hallfreðar saga and Viga-Glums saga. This wight usually attends the head of the family until death, when she goes to the next family member whom she finds fitting. If that person is not willing to have her (as in Hallfreðar saga where Þórvaldr refuses), she will continue until she finds someone who is. The kin-fetch may probably be thought of as a specialized type of idis; H.R. Ellis cites several examples of such women warning their descendants or prophesying their deaths (Road to He!, p.131).
Another form of clan-soul is that which seems to be embodied in a sword. The most famous blade of this sort is the sword of the Volsungs, which Óðinn thrusts into the tree Barnstokkr (Bairn-Stock). When Sigmundr draws it forth, he is taking up his inheritance as 6oinn's great-great-grandson; when his posthumous son Sigurðr has the broken blade reforged, he is initiating himself fully into the clan of which he is the last survivor. A similar act is performed by Angantyr's posthumous daughter

Hervor (Hervarar saga ok Heiðreks), when she claims the ancestral sword Tyrfingr from her father's burial mound.
As H.R. Ellis has discussed at some length in The Road to Hel, arid Stephen Flowers in Sigurðr: Rebirth and Initiation, the belief in clan-soul is closely tied up with the Germanic beliefs about rebirth. The Óðinn-hero Starkaðr, for example, was born showing the marks on his body where Þórr had ripped off the extra arms of his grandfather, Starkaðr the giant.  The younger Starkaðr, thus, had clearly inherited the elder one's hamr  together with his name (and the continued enmity of Þórr). A similar occurence is seen in Þorðar saga hræðu, where the posthumous son of Þórðr is given his father's name, and has a scar on his left arm where his father had been wounded, Luck, hamingia, aldr, and the related elements are also reborn in the family line. There is some question as to whether the individual consciousness is reborn (through inheritance or name-giving) or not: however, the Helgi poems seem to suggest that it can be, as Helgi's own spae-idis is reborn with him, and the spae-idis (or spae-alf), though a
separate aspect of the soul, seems to be very closely bound to the individual's awareness.
Rebirth is also especially connected with name-giving: Ellis cites a number of examples in which a dying man asks another to be sure that a child is named after him. In Svarfdela saga; Þórólfr specifically states that he will give all his luck to the child who bears his name. This is usually within the family line, and many families were actually characteriz&1 by the use of specific name-elements for all members (as with the Völsungs, Sigmundr, Signy or Sieglinde, and Sigurðr or Siegfried), which may have assured the oneness of the clan-soul. However, it did not have to be a blood relationship. None of the three Helgis are known to be related to one another, but the second (Hunding's-Bane) was named after the first (Hjörvarðsson), who in turn received his name only when lull-grown, while sitting on a howe. Ellis also mentions that there secins to be a close connection between howe-burial howe-sitting and rebirth.
The most famous prose description of the Norse belief in rebirth comes from Óláfs saga inn helga (Flateyjarbdk). In this saga, it is told how the dead Óláfr Geirstaðaálfr comes to a man named Hrani (which is also the name by which Óðinn goes in Hrolfs saga kraka) in a dream, telling him to break into Óláfr's own howe, cut the head off the corpse, and take the sword, ring, and girdle from the mound. He is to put the girdle around the waist of the pregnant queen Asta and tell her that if her child is a boy, he is to be named Óláfr  and he shall have the ring and sword. All of this duly happened - but as we know, Óláfr chose to convert to christianity, and became a tyrant to Norway rather than a hero. Later in his saga (chapter 106, titled "Óðinn came to King Óláfr with deception and wiles"), Óláfr is visited by Óðinn, who speaks to him of kings of old and asks which among them he would prefer to have been if he could choose. Olaft says that he would not prefer to be any Heathen man, king or otherwise, though eventually he admits to a grudging liking for Hr6Ifr kraki~. When he recognises Óðinn, he tries to hit the god with a prayer book. The next event in the chapter has Óláfr riding past the howe of Óláfr Geirstaðaálfr, where one of his followers asks him, '"Tell me, lord, if you were buried here." The king answered him, "My soul (önd) has never had two bodies and never will it have, neither now nor on the day of Resurrection. And if I said otherwise there would be no right troth in me." Then his follower said, "Men have said this, that you came to this stead before and you had spoken thus: 'Here we were and here we fare'." The king answered, "I have never said that and I shall never say that." And the king was greatly shaken in his thoughts (í hugnum) and spurred on his horse and flew most swiftly from that stead. As H.R. ElIis comments, "Here the belief in rebirth seems to be clearly expressed, all the more convincingly because of the christian king's determined denial of it later on" (Road to Hel, p.139). To this, it may be added that it seems clear that Óðinn was making an effort to make Olafr aware of the source of his soul - to awaken his urthoughts, or inherited memory - and the king's rejection of the god is of a piece with his reaction at the howe of his predecessor.
It seems, then, that all the sundry aspects of the soul have the potential to be reborn, either separately or together. However, there are many things besides rebirth that can befall the soul. There are some folk who continue to live within the howe, as both the (usually) well-meaning alfs and the malign draugar (walking corpses) do. The mound-dead (or often undead) are particularly seen as still dwelling within their bodies in the grave; the Germanic link between body and soul is generally much stronger than that of Abrahamic religions. Ellis also cites several families who believed that all their kin would "die into" certain holy mountains, such as the clans of Þórólfr Mosturskeggi, Svanr the wizard, and the matriarch Auðr (pp. 87-89). The life in howe or hill does not seem too bad: Eyrbyggja saga describes how, after the drowning of Þórólfr son Þórsteinn, the mountain opened and there was a great feast within, at which Þórsteinn was welcomed among his kinsmen. After Gunnarr of Hlïðarend's death, he is seen lying in the mound with lights shining from within, and seems cheerful and in the best of spirits as he chants verses (Brennu-Njáls saga, ch. 78). The giving of grave-goods, food, and drink to the dead -continuously done from the earliest times through the end of the Viking Age - also strengthens the thought that they were thought to live in the howe. Often the atheling-dead were given company - a man's thrall, as seen in the double graves of Stengade and Lejre, or woman's maidservant, as in the Oseberg burial - but they did not always appreciate it. Landnamabok tells of how a man named Asmundr is laid in his howe and a thrall slain to go with him, but he is later heard (or appears to his wife in a dream) complaining loudly of the lack of room, so that the mound has to be opened and the thrall removed.
However, there is also a strong belief that the soul fares between realms. Ellis links these paired beliefs with the paired practices of howe-burial and burning, a view supported by the account of Ibn Fadlan, who claims that a Rus told him that they burn their bodies so that the dead could enter swiftly into 'Paradise', and added that the wind which had sprung up to fan the recent ship-burning was sent by the dead man's "Lord out of love, to take him away. Burning was certainly a very important practice to our forebears, as seen both in the legendary examples of Balder, Sigur6r and Brynhildr, Beowulf, and Sigurðr Hringr and in the archaeological record (for instance, the kings' bodies in the great mounds at Gamla Uppsala were burnt before burial). The importance of it becomes clearer when one thinks on how difficult the actual process of cremation was: a great deal of fuel, time, and effort is needed to char flesh from bones (Barber, Vampires, Burial, and Death, pp.76-8), but our forebears seem to have thought burning the dead to be worth the trouble. Part of this practice surely stemmed from the fear of the walking dead, and it is only the bodies of draugar that are burned in the sagas of the Icelanders - though even their ashes can make trouble: according to Eyrbyggja saga, when Þórólfr Twist-Foot is burned, a cow licks the ashes up and from that gets a calf which grows up into a man-killing bull. However, the other sources mentioned show that burning could also be a rite of great respect. Snorri tells us in Ynglinga saga that the practice of cremation was introduced by Óðinn, and it is thus particularly thought to be associated with that god's cult. The popular idea of a "Viking ship-burial" where the burning ship is sent out on the waves actually only appears in the description of Baldr's funeral in the Prose Edda, but ibn Fadlan's account tells us that ship-burning was done on land. Our only known male Viking grave in France, a double cremation grave, also showed that the bodies had been burnt in the ship; both the boat and the grave goods were badly charred (Roesdahl and Wilson, From Viking to Crusader, p.322). Some effort was often taken to make sure that the ship did not return from the world of the dead: the ship of the Oseberg grave was moored to a great stone, and a like practice is described in Gisla saga Súrssorar.
Death was sometimes seen as a literal journey: Bede's "Death-Song" refers to his passing as "that need-faring"; the Old Norse phrase for dead relatives was framgengina frenda (kin who have gone before), and the modern German word for "ancestors" is Vorfahren (Gundarsson, Teutonic Religion, ch. 5). However, faring between the worlds and howe-burial were not mutually exclusive, nor were faring between the worlds and rebirth. As spoken of below, many folk were put into the mound with those things they needed to reach the next world (ships, horses, wains). Helgi Hunding's-Bane offers us the rare example of someone who goes through all three stages: laid whole in the mound, he rides to Walhall, but comes back to his lich again for a last night with his living bride Signin; after that, he dues not come back from Walhall while she lives, but the two are born again as Helgi Haddingjaskati and his beloved Kara. Gunnarr of Hliðarend (Brenna-Njals Saga) may also be one who fared between mound and God-Home: though he spoke verses from his mound, when his son Högni took his thrusting-spear with a mind for revenge, he said that he was bringing the weapon to his father so that Gunnar might have it in VaIhöIl. It is also possible that some rocks or mountains such as the Helgafell of Eyrbyggja saga may have been thought of not only as halls in which the dead continued to dwell, in a sense, on this earth, but also as gateways to the worlds of the god/esses. This is hinted at in the Ynglinga saga description of how King Sveigðir, seeking Óðinn and VaIhöll, entered into a dwarf's stone and was never seen again; Turville-Petre, indeed, suggests that " VaIhöll" may have first derived, not from Valhöll ("Hall of the Slain"), but Val-hallr ("Rock of the Slain").
The most common means by which our forebears fared between the worlds after death was the ship: as spoken of in "The Nine Worlds: Their Shaping and Ends", the boundaries between the worlds are usually seen either as seas or as great rivers. The Eddic prose section "Frá dauða Sinfjótla" (Of Sinfiótlís Death), describes how Sigmundr carried his dead son's body until "he came to a long and narrow firth, and there was a little ship and a man in it. He offered Sigmundr passage over the firth. But when Sigmundr bore the lich out to the ship, then the boat was (fully) laden. The man said that Sigmundr should walk around the firth. The man shoved the boat off and disappeared". The ferryman is clearly Wodan, who also appears, in a lighter mood, as the ferryman between the worlds in Harbarðslioð.
The oldest sort of "ship-grave" in Scandinavia dates from the end of the Bronze Age/beginning of the Iron Age in Gotland, where the dead were put into graves marked out by upright stones in the outline of a ship. The greatest treasure-burials of the Migration and Viking ages are ship-burials: Sutton Hoo, the Vendel graves, the Oseberg and Gokstad burials - all these rulers were laid in their ships, just as written of in the literary sources. In the oldest of the Vendel graves, the only one in that group from the Vendel Period in which a full skeleton was found, the chieftain was "'seated in full war-gear in the stern of his ship with his horse behind him" (Ellis, Road to Hel, p. 16) - showing not that he had been "laid to rest", but that he had been gotten ready for his journey. Ship-burials are also described in Gïsla saga Súrssonar, Harðar saga, and Landnámabók. Many of the Gotlandic picture stones, from the fifth century through the tenth, show ship-farings; some of these may be the journeys of legendary heroes (such as Hammars I, which is often interpreted as showing a scene from the tale of Högni and Hildr), but others are clearly the voyages of the dead. The earliest of these is the Sanda stone (ca. 400-600 C.E.), which has a sunlike design above, two wyrms coiled about spheres enclosing eightfold swirls and a rough tree-like shape in the middle - and below, another dragon above a ship (Nýlen, Erik; Jan-Peder Lamm. Stones, Ships, and Symbols, p. 29). This is likely to show that the men on the ship are journeying over the waters to the Underworld. The more famous stones of Tjängvide II and Ardre VIII (ca. 700-800), appear together with scenes that have a figure who is likely to be the memorialized dead man riding Sleipnir to his welcome in Valhöll; it is suggested that "the Gotlanders who carved the stones thought of the road to Valhalla as the road home. First one had to travel over the wide seas to a distant coast where a horse awaited the dead, a horse from the great farm or lordly hall of the neighborhood, and then one was welcomed with a flowing horn of mead" (Stones, Ships, and Symbols, p.70). The roots of this belief may stretch back to the Bronze Age; it is quite possible that some of the many ships of the rock-carving are the ships of the death-faring as well as of the fruitfulness-procession.
Our forebears also traveled between the worlds by horse or, less often, by wain. The horse is very often found in graves: sometimes this is clearly based only on its status as a valued possession (as when it appears in ship-graves such as the one from Vendel), and in Egils saga ok Ásmundar, the horse in the mound provides a nice meal for the voracious draugr Aran; but it is also quite possible that in many cases, the horse could have been seen as the means of bearing the dead person to the Otherworld. Certainly in the literature, it is the most usual kind of transport between the worlds. Hermóðr must borrow Wodan's horse Sleipnir to ride down to Hel in search of Balder; to reach Etin-Home and pass through the flames that ring Gerðr's hall, Skirnir needs Freyr's horse; and only Grani can pass the tire around Brynhildr (Völsunga saga). The way through the clouds to and from Walhall is one that is usually ridden. In Hákonarmal, the walkurjas Göndul and Skögul ride to fetch King Hákon, speaking to him where he     is lies dead "from the steed's back'; SköguI then mentions that 'We two shall ride. - to the green worlds of the gods" (st. 13). Helgakviða Hundingsbana II has the dead Helgi riding back from Valhöll to spend a last night with his living bride; when dawn comes, he says, "It is time for me to ride the reddening ways, let the fallow horse tread the flight-path; I must go westward over the wind-helm's bridge before Salgofnir wakes the sig-host" (st. 49). In Sturlunga saga, Gúðrún Gjúkadóttir (wife of Sigurðr the Vólsung) rides from "Corpse-World" on a grey horse to tell of a coming disaster. Saxo describes Oðinn as wrapping Hadding in his cloak and is carrying him away on his horse; Hadding looks down just once, and sees the ocean beneath him. 
 One of the Gotlandic picture stones, Lärbro Tängelgårda I, bears out this emphasis on the horse as the beast of death. The first scene shows a battle, in which the rider has fallen from his horse and lies dead. The second, Sune Lindqvist reads as a funeral: the living have turned their backs arid walk away with swords pointed down as the horse bears the dead man away. This horse has two sets of crossed lines between its legs:  Lindqvist suggests that the horse could be a dead one which has been propped up with these supports, but prefers the explanation that "The two crosses represent.. .a 'standing fence', that is, one of the notable, particularly strong cemetery-fences, working almost as a fortification, which for a long time have been usual in Gotland. . In this case the horse would be alive; in agreement with the horses in the ceremonial burial processions of later times, (its head would be) covered.. so that the eyes might not gaze upon the living when it bears the dead through the enclosure that separates the world of the dead from the world of the living" (Gotlands lijijyteine, I, p.99). The belief in a horse bearing the dead by itself appears in later Norwegian folk-tales of the Black Death. There is even a tune, "Førnes Brown~, based on a story in which there were so few people left in the town Møsstrånn'a that no one was left to walk with the churchyard horse, so the grave-diggers put snowshoes on its feet arid sent it off by itself, and every time it came back to the cemetery, it had to go out by itself again to fetch another body (Kvideland & Sehmsdorf, p.349). But one snowshoe came off and the horse limped; a limp which can be heard in the tune.
The story of a corpse-fetching horse is clearly not realistic (among other things, how did it know who had just died, and how did it get the body out of the house and onto the sleigh?); the horse that knows where to go to find the newly dead and the way to bear them is likely to go back to Heathen belief. Possibly because of this connection with the faring between the worlds, the horse is often thought of as a particular beast of death. A creature called the helhest (Hel-horse) appears in Scandinavian folklore; this is a three-legged horse which goes noisily about the church-yard and fetches the dead - limping like the horse of "Førnes Brown". Grimm cites a Danish story that a live horse was buried first in every new churchyard, and that its ghost became the helhest (Teutonic Mythology, II, p. 844). Wild Hunt is made up almost wholly of mounted ghosts, and the traditional Northern European hobby-horse often has a skull for a head. Hel herself sometimes rides on a three-legged white horse, or even appears as one herself; her title jódís, "horse-idis", has often been thought to speak of the relationship of the horse to the cult of the dead (though this is not universally accepted by academics); and when a man recovered from serious illness, it was said that he had given Death a bushel of oats (Karlsdóttir, "The Lady Death", p.5; see also Grimm, II, pp. 844-45). This may also have been related to the folk practice of leaving the last sheaf for Wodan's horse, though that certainly had the purpose of encouraging fruitfulness as well. In any case, this horse-lore may explain why the horse is thought of as an especially holy beast. As the creature which. can go most easily between the worlds, it could well bear the god/esses forth and/or transmit their wisdom into the Middle-Garth; as a sacrifice, it could best bear the wishes and needs of the folk to be heard in the Otherworld - and set in the grave, the horse could likewise bear the dead to God-Home or Hel-Home.
The usual picture of the Germanic afterlife, as given to us by Snorri in his Edda and taken up in popular belief; has battle-slain warriors faring up to Walhall, while everyone else sinks down to the cold and dreary realm of Hel. This seems to be some way from what has come down to us of the thoughts of our forebears: the belief in life in the mound or rock has already been spoken of at length; besides that, there are a number of godly halls to which folk may tare, even according to Snorri's own Edda in which he says that maidens go to Gefjon after death.
The widest realm of death, Hel-Home itself, was probably not thought of as all that bad. As Alice Karlsdóttir mentions, the style of poetic personification (with names such as Hunger for Hel's dish, Famine for her knife, Pit of Stumbling for her threshold, and Disease for her bed) is so late and so christian (it reminds one of Pilgrim's Progress or an old mediaeval morality play like Everyman) that it seems almost certain to have been colored by the christian philosophy and the need to have an antithesis to Valhalla (Heaven and Hel, get it?).. Besides Snorri's tidy little personifications, there are the descriptions from "Baldrs draumar" and Hermóðr's journey that show Hel's hall decorated, and equipped with mead to receive Baldr, differing little from the preparations one finds in Valhall.
In fact, the description of how Hel's benches are strewn with rings, the dais adorned fairly with gold, and the mead brewed with a shield set over the shining drink in preparation for Baldr's arrival is very similar to the Eiríksmál description of how Óðinn dreams that he bade "the benches to be strewn, the ale-cups to be washed, the valkyries to bear wine as if a prince came in preparation for Eiríkr's arrival. In Walhall, Neckel lists several other likenesses between WaIhall and Hel-Home: both have rivers which must be crossed over, similar to "the death-waters of the most various folks"; both have gates with ominous names (Walhall's Valgrindr- "gates of the slain"; Hel-Rome's Helgrindr - "gates of Hel~Death" and Nágrindr -"corpse-gates"); and both have warded bridges which resound beneath the hero's passing (pp. 51 ff.). Neckel ends by suggesting that there was originally a single land of the dead, but that "Grímnismál... lifts the hellish territories up into heaven" (Walhall, p.53); and it is quite likely that there was originally a general sense of the landscape of the world of the dead, which was later specialized into the halls of Hella and Wodan, the two deities who have most to do with death.
Even the distinction between battle-dead and other kinds of dead becomes suspicious when the sources are looked at carefully. Like Wodan and the Frowe, Hella (according to "Ynglingatal") also chooses her dead -that is probably to say, determines who shall die. To slay someone in battle can be to send them to guest with Óðinn, as mentioned several times in the Samsey section of Hervarar saga ok Heðreks, or it can be to send them to Hel. Sinfljötli, who dies of poison, is taken to WaIhall by Óðinn, as, according to Egill's poem Snorratorrek, are the sons of Egill Skalla-Grímsson - one of whom died of fever, the other by drowning. However, Sigurðr and Baldr are both weapon-slain, and they both fare to Hel-Home, as do many other edge-mown men
The most significant way in which Hel's realm does differ from Walhall is that it seems rather a quiet place where the dead rested after the labors of life. Terms for dying such as hvílask í hvelu ("to rest in Hel") and Saxo's placida sedes ("quiet homes") support this. Perhaps this would seem like torture to an adventurer or professional warrior, but surely some would view the idea of a little peace and quiet as not necessarily a bad thing. There are also references in the myths and sagas that seem to indicate Hel occasionally took some of her more notable guests into her "embraces" (just what is Baldr doing down there, anyway?).
In WaIhall, however, as we know, the einherjar slay each other every day, then feast as friends together every night. The hall is well-spoken of in Grfmnismdl: its pillars are spears, its benches strewn with byrnies, and the roof is thatched with shields. A warg hangs before the west door, and an eagle swoops low above. Walhall has either five hundred forty doors (if the "hundred" of stanza 24 is a short base-ten hundred) or six hundred forty (if it is the long Germanic base-twelve hundred), out of each of which eight hundred (or nine hundred sixty) einherjar will fare at Ragnarök. On the hall stands a goat named Heiðrún, who bites at the World-Tree's leaves and fills the cauldron with mead from her udders; a stag called Eikþyrnir stands beside her, and shining drops from his horns fall down to Hvergelrnir. The cook is called Andhrímnir ("the sooty one"; also an eagle-heiti), the kettle Eldhrímnir ("the fire-sooty"), and the boar whose flesh is seethed in it every day and who is whole in the evening again is Saehrímnir ("sea-sooty"). The walkurias bear ale to the einherjar there at the night's feasting, and may well be the ones to bring them hack to life and make them whole again after the day's fighting.
As well as Walhall, the halls spoken of in the sources include Gefjon's (Snorri's Edda, spoken of above), the Frowe's (see "the Frowe"), and Thonar's. In Hárbarðsljóð 24, the old ferryman says that "Óðinn has the jarls who fall in fight, but Þórr has the kin of thralls", to which Þórr, rather miffed, replies, "You would divide the hosts of the gods unevenly, if you had much choice" (st. 25) - strongly suggesting that matters are not as Hárbarðr has stated them - certainly no one else, not even Loki, would dare suggest to Thonar's face that he was a patron of thralls! Since all the god/esses have their own halls, and their own beloved friends in Middle-Earth, it is generally believed in the Troth that those folk who do not stay in mound or rock fare to the dwelling of whichever deity is closest to their own souls.
Probably the most important single element in Germanic beliefs of the afterlife, however, was the oneness of the clan. In the Vita Wulframi's account of the attempted conversion of Radbod of Frisia, the king, at the edge of the baptismal font, asks what has become of his forebears. The christian convertor replies that they are surely in Hell, whereupon Radbod, appalled by the idea of being parted from his kin in this life or the hereafter, refuses baptism on the grounds that he could not do without the fellowship of all those who ruled the Frisians before him. In Scandinavian sources, we have not only Helgafell, but also Egill's statement in Sonatorrek 18 that his dead son has gone "to visit his kin", and Sigmundr's dying words in Volsunga saga, "I must now go to our kin who have gone before". As the whole splits into its parts after death, this is true in several ways. The consciousness seems to be that part which fares between the worlds to God-Home or Hel-Home, or else dwells in the family crag or howe (when enough other soul-elements, such as barningja. hamr, might and main, and so forth stay with the body after death, then you get a draugr - this is most common in cases of sudden violent death, especially if the death had to do with magic or the undead; when the dead were magic-workers or berserks; or when the dead were strong, stubborn, and/or really obnoxious in life). Many of the other elements literally go "to join the kin"' either by adding to the might of those living or by being reborn in the family line. Even when the dead are in the worlds beyond, they do not forsake the living clan, just as the living ever speak and share their feasts with the dead. Some have wondered how such a belief can fit in with the sundry halls and worlds to which folk fare after death: the answer may perhaps be found in the words of the walkurja Skögul, when she speaks of the "green worlds of the gods" in Hákonormál. God-Home is clearly a very wide land indeed, which borders on (and even seems to take in parts of) many other realms, including AIf-Home, Etin-Home, the Middle-Garth, and Hel. There is no reason to think that the dead are bound to a single stead or world only: indeed, the examples of Helgi and Gunnar show us that they are not. Rather, different folk may have favored dwelling places, but all clan members, god/esses and humans, living and dead, come together in times of need and at the holy blessings of the year which bind us together.
The Heathen Norse (and other Germanic folks) did not put as much emphasis on the afterlife as the christians did, and do, which explains why their ideas on afterlife were so diverse and scattered. They also did not have the dread of death and punishment thereafter that later people, influenced by christianity, came to have. The portrayal of death as a demonic figure (whether Hella or Wodan, both demonized in this role by christianity) is very likely to have been a later development. But if we cannot accept death, we cannot accept life, for birth and death are a cycle repeated in all of nature. Though no one with any sense courts death, when she comes in her bright form, we need not tear to accept her embrace.

Contributors

Grundy, Stephan, from "The Cult of Óðinn: God of Death?"
Alice Karlsdóttir, from "The Lady Death", in Idunna V, i, 18, Hredmonath
1993 C.E. (note: many sections of this article are also reproduced under
"Hella"')
Swain Wodening, "The Anglo-Saxon Soul"




Chapter XXVII

Ethics

Ethics and philosophy are as important to any religion as deities and rites, yet most religions seem overly complex or simple in these matters. We in the Troth are thankfully blessed with a philosophy that may be as simple or as complex as any follower of our gods desires. Our philosophy may be as complex as the systems put forth by the Greek philosophers or as simple as the lessons we learn in kindergarten. Such a belief system allows for mystics and sages, farmers and factory workers, corporate lawyers and politicians; all with a comprehension ranging from the most basic tenets of our faith to the most complex. What's more, the simplest aspects of our religion are compatible with the most complex: there are no contradictions, as there are with other faiths. Therefore, an Asatruar can learn the basics of our faith and then apply these basics as they delve deeper into the lore without encountering the setbacks students of other religions suffer when they run into contradictory lore. The first thing any Asatruar should study is the ethical system of our forebears, and foremost among our ethical concerns is the matter of how our spiritual forebears viewed society.
The Germanic folks were strong on individuality, a trait noted by the Romans even in battle. At the same time, they had a strong sense of loyalty first to their kindred and then to the community in which they lived. These bonds of loyalty were reflected in how our spiritual forebears viewed the institutions of family, community, nation, and so forth. Each institution, beginning with the smallest (the individual) ranging up to the largest (the nation or tribe) was seen as an enclosure or fenced-in area. Just as Asgard consists of the smaller enclosures of the gods, Midgard consists of enclosures, each one consisting of even smaller enclosures.  Thus individuals  make  up  kindreds,  kindreds  make  up  communities, communities make up the nation or tribe. And just as each individual has their own personal wyrd, each kindred has its own wyrd, as do communities and tribes (in the form of common law). This concept of enclosures, or garths, is best known from the scholar Kirsten Hastrup's works (esp. Culture and History in Medieval Iceland), and is based on the opposition of innan-garð (within the garth) and utan-garð (outside the garth). The innan-garð is the human community, the utan-garð is the 'wilds'. According to Hastrup, this opposition may also be seen in the opposition of law and non-law, the law being coexistent with the human community. Of course, the law was seen by our spiritual forebears as the collective wyrd of a community or tribe. More accurately, perhaps, the law is the customs of a folk, deeds that are done because they are helpful to society, deeds that ensure mutual survival within the innan-garð (see "Týr and Zisa"). But what are these things that form the law or custom of a folk? They can be found by looking at the qualities our spiritual forebears found desirable in individuals.
In order for mankind to survive, individuals must possess certain traits that allow them to get along with each other. In addition to these traits are other traits that actually allow individuals to benefit each other. Together these traits comprise what most religions consider virtues or thews. Our spiritual forebears held certain thews much higher than others. One description of these thews is the Odinic Rite of England's 'Nine Noble Virtues" (or, in Saxon English, Atheling-Thews): Boldness ("Courage"'), Truth, Are ("Honor"), Troth ("Fidelity"), Self-Rule ("Discipline"), Guest-Friendliness ('Hospitality"), Busyship ('Industriousness"), Free-Standing ("Independence'), and Steadfastness ('Perseverance"). These have been taken by many groups as the chief traits which true folk should strive to show: the Raven Kindred, for instance, has adopted them as an 'official" statement of its beliefs, "not only as a moral guide for our members, but also to say to the world what it is that we stand for - our good name in the community being important to us. Finally, this list is used when someone formally joins the Raven Kindred and we hold a sumble and toast the 9 virtues to the new member in the hope that they will apply them to their life" (Raven Kindred Ritual Book, p.20). Other thews which our forebears thought most important were Evenhead (equality), Friendship, Strength, and Open-Handedness - and, perhaps highest of all, Wisdom.

The Nine Atheling-Thews

Boldness

Bravery or the refusal to allow fear to take one's mind was needed in the harshness of early Europe. Today this thew is reflected in the Troth's move towards acceptance in general society. Fafnismál 31 shows the true meaning of Germanic boldness: "It is better to be whetted than not to be whetted when you go into battle; to be glad is better than to lose heart, whatever comes to your hand". According to Lew Stead,

In almost every statement of Asatru beliefs, courage comes first. As Stephen McNallen has said, courage and bravery are perhaps the values which the Vikings are best known for. However, despite our history, few of us face such turmoil as a literal battle for one's life. In fact, I believe it 'night he easier to manifest courage in such a situation than to do so in the many smaller day to day occurrences in which courage is called for.
The most common of these occurrences for modern Pagans is the courage to acknowledge and live one's beliefs. It is also, sadly, the one that we most often fail at. While we may often be full of the type of courage that would lead us to face a shield wall, many of us quake at the thought of the topic of religion coming up at the office or a friend asking what church we attend. We won't offer easy answers, but we ask this: if you toast the courage of your ancestors to fight and die for what they believe in, can you trade away your religious identity for a higher salary or social acceptance?
In an essay on values there is also the question of moral courage. The way of Tyr is difficult - to lose one's hand for one's beliefs - but Tyr thought the price worth paying. In a million ways modem society challenges our values, not just as Asatruar who are estranged from mainstream religious practice, hut for religious people in an increasingly not just secular, but anti-religious culture. Values are also not in favor in modem society. Breaking or getting around the rules is encouraged to get ahead. Living honorably is simply too inconvenient. I think most people, Asatru or otherwise, find this repugnant, but the only way to change it is to have the courage to refuse to take part in it.

Truth

Truthfulness or honesty was a prized trait, as was modesty. At first, this might seem to conflict with the idea of heroic boasting, but it does not. The boasts made before battle or in sumble were not the idle boasts of unaccomplished men, but tales of past accomplishments and vows to do deeds within one's ability. Perhaps it is best if one heeds this warning from the Anglo-Saxon poem "The Wanderer" (lines 65-72):

"Wita sceal geþyldig..
ne naefre gielpes to georn,      aer he geare cunne. 
Beorn sceal gebidan,       þonne he beot spriceð, 
oþþaet collenferð      cunne gea' rwe,
 hwider hreþra gehygd      hweorfan wille".

(A wise man should be patient.. .nor ever cry out too eagerly, before he is readied. A stout-hearted warrior (lit. "bear") shall bide his time when he would speak an oath, till he knows quite where the thoughts of his heart will turn).
As a Troth value, truthfulness does not necessarily mean "always tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth regardless of any consequences." Truthfulness was something that came in many shades to our forebears, who delighted in riddle-games and kennings, and at least some of whom worshipped a god who is not best known for straightforward and literal-minded honesty. Both the subtleties of Wodan (and those folk who practice it in the Middle-Garth)1 and the truthfulness of Thonar are needful to Asatruar: there is a time for truth to be cunningly woven, and a time for it to be spoken out boldly (see discussion of Wisdom, below). Still, truth - in whatever form - is always thought better than falseness, and is a goal towards which all Troth folk strive. Truth, in the sense of honesty, is essential to personal honor and also to any system or morality that is not based on rigid legalism. If one is to uphold an honor code, one must be brutally honest with oneself and with others.

Are (Honor)

Truth and Are go together in all things. Honor is the strength of your word in which others may trust. More, it is that soul-might gained when your words uphold your deeds, when your oaths are sworn and kept -especially those oaths made on the hallowed Yule boar or cup, which only the worst of nithlings (or the greatest of fools, for swearing an oath that could not be kept) would fail to fulfill. when an oath is broken, the whole soul and being of the swearer are broken with it: it is upon Are that the many parts of soul-strength are based. Someone with no are, however strong he or she may be in body and mind, is yet lacking in true might, and leeches away the life of her or his clan. But someone who has great are calls upon the god/esses, makes blessings, or rists runes with a might that others cannot match, and that might is passed on to her or his kin after death.
Honor is also that name which lives after you when your life is over, as in the well-known verses from Hávamál (76-77): "Cattle die, kinsmen die, you yourself shall likewise die. But word-glory dies --never, for him who gets it well. Cattle die, kinsmen die, you yourself shall likewise die. I know one thing that never dies: the deeming over every dead mm." This is true even among the god/esses: Vóluspá tells us how Þórr, even as he sees the Middle-Garth's Wyrm die beneath his hammer, steps back nine feet and dies "fearing no shame"; and how, in the new world, those deities who have lived through Ragnarök speak of his deed again and deem its worth. The Raven Kindred Ritual Book says that,

Honor is the basis for the entire Asatru moral rationale. If anything comes out in the Eddas and Sagas it is that without honor we are nothing. We remember two types of people from ancient times: those whose honor was so clean that they shine as examples to us and those who were so without honor that their names are cursed a thousand years after they lived...
However, honor is not mere reputation. Honor is an internal force whose outward manifestation is reputation. Internal honor is the sacred moral compass that each Asatruar and God should hold dear. It is the inner dwelling at peace which comes from living in accordance with one's beliefs and with one's knowledge of the Truth of what one is doing. It is something deeply personal and heartfelt, almost akin to an emotion. It's a "knowing" that what one is doing is right and correct.
In many ways, while the most important of all the virtues, it is also the most ephemeral in terms of description. It is all the other virtues rolled together and then still more. The best way I have found to describe honor is that if you are truly living with honor, you will have no regrets about what you have done with your life.

Troth

Closely tied to are is troth - good faith or loyalty to one's friends, kinsmen, or gods. One might see troth as the soul-might of honor shown forth among folk: it is the holy bond of oaths and friendship, tying sib to sib, spouse to spouse, friend to friend, drighten to thanes, and god/esses to humans.
Northern literature is full of folk who have shown the worth of their troth, but one example will serve. When Beowulf, as an old king, went out to fight the dragon that was devastating his land, he took with him a picked band of guards. But BeowuIf5 first blow failed, only angering the dragon so that it spewed fire everywhere. Then all the house-thanes fled except for young Wiglaf, whose first battle it was. He, seeing his drighten hard-pressed and thinking of all the good treatment he had gotten from Beowulf, charged through the dragon's fires and into the middle of the fight, and "they killed it together, sib-athelings. Thus should a warrior be, a thane in (time of) need" (2707-9).
The old Norse word trú was used for troth, trust, or belief: a patron godless or wight was the fulltrúi (manly) fulltrúa (womanly) - the fully trusted one, or the holder of full troth. To hold troth with others is not only to keep your word to them, which is needful even in the case of foes, but to work for their weal in all ways, to fight for them when there is need, and to share your own good and your thoughts with them as a true friend -in short, to be a fellow to them both on mead-benches and in the shield-wall. Troth is the very wall that hedges the human world within the garth from the wild world outside: breakers of troth are outlaws and trolls, no longer human folk.

Truth is also the bond that ties us to our kin (both living and dead) and to the ways of our forebears; and for this reason, it is the word that we have chosen to describe our religion - for Troth is the very heart of the Northern beliefs. We must remain true to the Aesir and Vanir and to our kinsmen. Like marriage, Profession (the rite in which one enters the Asatru faith, similar to Christian confirmation or Wiccan initiation) is a sacred bond between two parties: in this case, an Asatruar and the Gods. In order for such a relationship to work, both must he honest and faithful to each other.
Asatru, although currently being reborn, is at its roots a folk religion and we also uphold the values of fidelity to the ways of our ancestor. This is why historical research is so important to the Asatru folk: it is the rediscovering of our ancient ways and our readoption of them.

Self-rule.

As Grettir says in his saga,  A thrall takes his revenge at once, a coward never". Self-rule was one of the best traits a Norseman could have:  loss of control was thought of as a shameful thing, but the person who could bear pain without reacting to it, or control his or her desire for revenge until the time came when it could be most effectively done was greatly respected.
A fine example of the difference between self-rule and the lack of it (not to mention the result of that lack) is shown in Óláfs saga Tryggvasonar (Heimskringla): Óláfr has come to court Queen Sigríðr the Proud, but wants her to convent to Christianity. She replies reasonably, with a calmness and tolerance to be envied by anyone who has to deal with folk from a faith strongly opposed to their own: "'I shall not go from that troth which I have always held, and my kinsmen before me. But I will also not object to it if you trust in that god whom you prefer'". Óláfr then loses all his self-rule and "became greatly angry and answered hastily (one imagines his voice rising to a shrill shriek - KHG), 'Why should I want to marry you, Heathen bitch?' - and struck her in the face with his glove". Sigríðr, though she is in her own hall, does not call on her warband to deal with Óláfr at once, as she thinks the time has not come for a pitched battle in her home and/or a major international incident. Instead. she only answers with great dignity and self-control, "'That may well be thy death.'" And it is: she is largely responsible for the alliance which brings about Óláfr Tryggvason's fall. While anger and other passions, and expressions of them ranging all the way from a change in tone of voice to man-slaying, were understood as both needful and often good and useful by our forebears, such expressions were only respected as they stemmed from a willed decision to act - to use feelings and the deeds rising from them as tools, rather than to be used by them.
Self-rule is also the will and judgment which makes honor and troth possible: having no legalistic code of behavior, the true wo/man must rely on her or his own ability to decide what is right, then stick to the path to carry it out, however difficult and fraught with unforeseen problems it may be. It is the exercise of personal will that upholds honor and the other virtues and translates impulse into action.. If one rejects legalism, one must be willing to control one's own actions. Without self-discipline, we have the mess we currently see in our culture. Self-Rule is closely tied to Free-Standing; one cannot have one without the other.

Guest-Friendliness

Guest-friendliness was one of the most needful thews of the old days, when traveling was made dangerous by weather, outlaws, and other hazards of the road. Then folk always had to be ready to open their doors to wayfarers - and some of those wayfarers were more than human. Hávamál begins with Óðinn coming into a home or hall after a long faring:  he speaks to the host. "Hail to the giver! A guest has come in, where shall he look to sit? He is hasty to get to the fire, for his own good. Fire is needed for him who has come in and has cold legs; meat and drink are needful to one who has fared over the fells." Landnamabók (Haukvb6k ch. 74) describes how the chieftainess Geirríðr "spared no meat for folk, and let her hall be set on a major roadway; she sat on a stool and invited guests, and her table within stood ever with food on it" - as fine an example of guest-friendliness as one could hope to find!
Although it is seldom that folk today wander on foot through the snow and must rely on the guest-friendliness of those houses they chance to find, this thew is still needful - the more so as hotel hills get higher. It Is the duty of true folk to take care of other true folk where-ever they may be - to offer a place in their own homes or at least see to it that travelers have a place to stay. Lew Stead points out that,

In our modem Asatru community, we need to treat each other with respect and act together for the good of our community as a whole. This functions most solidly on the level of the kindred or hearth where non-familial members become extremely close and look out for each other. It can mean hospitality in the old sense of taking in people, which we've done, but in modem times it's more likely to mean loaning someone a car or a bit of money when they need it (that's need, not want).
Part of hospitality is treating other people with respect and dignity. Many of our Gods are known to wander the world and stop in at people's houses, testing their hospitality and generosity. The virtue of hospitality means seeing people as if they were all individuals with self-respect and importance. Or perhaps from time to time, they are literally the Gods in human form. This has profound implications for social action in our religion. Our response to societal problems such as poverty (that's poverty, folks, not laziness) is in many ways our modern reaction to this ancient virtue.
In terms of our modern community as a whole, I see hospitality in terms of frontier 'barn raisings' where a whole community would come together and pool their resources. This doesn't mean we have to forget differences, but we must put them aside for those who are of our Folk, and work for our common good.

Guest-friendliness is also important in that most of our blessings are still held in folk's homes and yards, and thus most Hearths and Garths rely on this thew as the underlying one which makes it possible for them to gather together in frith with each other and the god/esses.
Guest-friendliness also stretches to the way in which guests are treated, whether they come alone or in groups at a feast. A good host/ess will offer a guest a choice of drinks when the guest steps over the threshold (see Rites"), make sure that her or his guests are never thirsty, hungry, or bored; that the music or television program playing is to their taste; and that the places into which they are likely to go are clean and well-appointed. This means planning ahead for a number of possibilities.
As well as being sure that his/her guests do not thirst, the host/ess should also be sure that they have sober transportation home. This was less important in the old days (when was the last time you saw an ox-cart wrapped around a telephone pole or a tree?), but is literally a matter of life and death today.
Likewise, guests have certain duties to the host/ess. They must leave a place in which they have been at least as clean as it was when they got there; if the host/ess cannot afford the best of food or drink, the guest must still partake of it with as much enthusiasm and respect as if the finest table had been spread. An example which all should take note of is that of Rígsþula, in which the god Heimdallr behaves in exactly the same way in the lowly hut of Great-Grandfather and Great-Grandmother as he does in the high hall of Father and Mother. If a guest should chance to break something, she/he is responsible for telling the host/ess and, if the host/ess will accept it, making recompense.
It Is traditional in all the Northern countries for a guest to bring a gift; sometimes a symbolic bouquet of flowers, sometimes something more practical such as a bottle of wine or spirits, or a six-pack of beer. The latter gifts are especially strongly recommended at a feast where many folk will be drinking, as it is very rude to expect a single person to provide all the refreshments for a single feast (a potentially bankrupting prospect).

Busyship (Industriousness)


Busyship was also needed for survival in the elder days. Those that would not work, starved or froze to death. Although the clan took care of its own, it also called for all its folk to do their share: even small children had their place in the daily work of farming, spinning, and tending beasts. As Hávamál 71 tells us, "The lame rides a horse; the handless can herd; a deaf man can also fight well. To be blind is better than to be burned; no one has use for a corpse". Those who were too old and decrepit to take any part in the household labor were still cared for, honored for the deeds they had done and the wisdom they had learned in their long lives:
Hávamál 134 counsels: 'Never laugh at the hoary thule (speaker)! Often what old men My is good, and wise words come out of the wrinkled bag that bangs with the skins". However, so long as there was any contribution a family member could make to the good of the whole, they made it.
Hávamál has much to say on the matter of busyship, but chief among the High One's redes in the matter may be this: "Seldom does a lying-down wolf get the lamb, or a sleeping man victory. He who has few workers should rise early, and go himself to work: he who sleeps in the morning will miss much" (58-59).

Modern Asatruar must be industrious in their actions. We need to work hard if we are going to achieve our goals. There is so much for us to do.. We can't do this by sitting on our virtues, we need to make them an active part of our behavior. Industry also refers to simple hard work in our daily vocations, done with care and pride.
Here's a few concrete examples. If you are reading this and don't have a kindred, why not? Stop reading now. Go and place ads in the appropriate local stores, get your name on the Ring of Troth, Wyrd Network, or Asatru Alliance networking lists, and with other Pagan groups. Put on a workshop. OK, now you're back to reading and you don't agree with what I'm saying here? Well, be industrious! Write your own articles and arguments. Write a letter to the editor and suggest this material be banned -better than passivity. Get the blood moving and go out and do it. That's how it gets done. The Sods do not favor the lazy.
The same holds true for our non-religious lives. As Asatruar we should offer a good example as industrious people who add to whatever we're involved in rather than take from it. We should be the ones the business we work in can't do without and the ones who always seem to be able to get things done. When people think of Asatru, they should think of people who are competent and who offer something to the world.
This doesn't just apply to vocational work, but to the entire way we live our lives. It is just as much a mentality. The Vikings were vital people. They lived each day to its fullest and didn't wring their hands in doubt or hesitation. We should put the same attitude forward in all that we do whether it is our usual vocation, devotion to the Gods, or leisure time.
(Raven Kindred Ritual Book)

Free-Standing

"A dwelling is better, though it be little; everyone is master at home.
Though you have but two goats and a thatched root it is far better than begging. 
A dwelling is better, though it be little; everyone is master at home. 
Bloodied is the heart of him who must beg every time for his meals"
(Hávamál 36-37).

Individualism or free will, the freedom to be one's own man was very important to our forebears. However, free-standing carries with it certain duties. Greatest among these is responsibility for yourself - all your choices, all your deeds. Germanic Heathens have no "original sin" to blame; we cannot claim that "Loki made me do it". True, an ill wyrd, or unfriendly folk or wights, may put us in the worst of situations, as happened to many of the great hero/ines of the Northern people; but that is where such thews as boldness, honor, and self-rule come into their own -for at the end, what is remembered is not simply that you have suffered and/or even died, but the manner in which you did it. A good example of such free-standing despite the worst of circumstances is the tale of Högni's (Hagen's) death as told in Atlamál hin groenlenzsku. Gunnarr has told Attila that he will not reveal the hiding place of the hoard of the Rhine until he sees Högni's heart before him presumably fearing that threats to himself might persuade his brother to give in). Högni's is taken outside, but it is suggested that it would be better to cut out the heart of the thrall Hjalli, who is good for little. Hjalli whines and moans about how dreadful it is that he should have to pay for their battle, arid screams before the knife ever touches him. Then Högni's asked, as few would do, that the thrall be unfettered, and he himself go under: 'I think it will be a lesser thing for me to play this game; why should we wish to listen to this shrieking?'" As his heart is cut out of his breast, Högni's laughs. Even though he is a battle-captive, disarmed and bound among his enemies with almost no power over his external circumstances, the hero is still free-standing - willing to take full responsibility for the choices which have led him to where he is, without blaming any of the other folk whose actions contributed to the situation, or regretting either his deeds or his death.
As many of us do, Lavrans Reimer-Miller counts free-standing as the greatest and most over-arching of the thews of the way of the North, believing that the single unifying principle at the root of our beliefs "is this: one must always be prepared to take full responsibility for one's actions.  If a christian should challenge the moral basis of our beliefs, then this can serve as a rational response. We always take responsibility for everything we do. Period. Good, bad, or otherwise.. .1 would imagine that the practical application of our religion would mean to simply think through the consequences of any act, and then decide whether or not the price is worth it.
Say someone insults and offends you. Your instinctive reaction may be to attack the offender physically. But think: you will be arrested and charged with assault; you will have to hire a lawyer, a member of a profession which no longer carries the honor it once did; you will play the game in the legal system of pleading not guilty in spite of the evidence and force your victim and the court to prove otherwise. The whole legal system in this country has become based on the principle of avoiding responsibility. To take part in the game is morally corrupting. So unless you are willing to go to jail and pay a fine, don't hit him! Of course, if you decide that it's worth it, then go ahead and give your enemy what he deserves, but be prepared to enter the court and proudly say, "Yes, I did assault him". Don't do the crime if you can't do the time. Always have the weregild handy, just in case!" ("Taking the Rap")

As the sagas show us, this straightforward approach was the way of our folk. Whatever the circumstances, a killing was only a "murder", a shameful slaying, if the killer hid the body and/or tried to conceal having done the deed: the expected thing was for the slayer to announce what he had done, then deal with whatever consequences arose. As Lavrans says,

For me, a basic mental and spiritual checklist before I go out into the world seems to give me the confidence and inner strength to ride a subway into downtown Boston and do my business without being crippled by the kind of fear I feel all around me. A very large factor in that process of self-empowerment is the constant application of the basic ethic of Odinism as I understand it. I will not take any action unless I am prepared to take full responsibility for the results of that action. All else follows from that. Thus I honor and emulate the Gods and Goddesses of Asa/Vanatru. Even Loki told the truth, and took his punishment (~Taking the Rap").

As expressed by Raven Kindred,

Traditionally. our folkways have always honored the ability of a man or woman to make their own way in the world and not to lean on others for their physical needs. This is one of the way in which the several virtues reinforce and support each other. Hospitality cannot function if people are not responsible enough to exercise discipline and take care of themselves. It's for those that strive and fail or need assistance that hospitality is intended, not for the idle who simply won't take care of themselves.
In terms of our relationships with the Gods, self-reliance is also very important. If we wish the Gods to offer us their blessings and gifts, we must make ourselves worthy of them - and the Gods are most pleased with someone who stands on their own two feet. This is one of the reasons for the Asatru rule that we do not kneel to the Gods during our ceremonies. By standing we acknowledge our relationship as striving and fulfilled people looking for comradeship and a relationship, rather than acting as scraelings looking for a handout from on high.. We, as Asatruar, are people who can make our own way in the world, but who choose to seek a relationship with the Gods...
Being self-reliant also means taking responsibility for one's life. It's not just about refusing a welfare check or not lobbying for a tax exemption, but also refusing to blame one's failures on religious intolerance, the patriarchy, or an unfair system. The system may, in fact, be unfair, but it's our own responsibility to deal with it.

True folk should also remember that, though responsibility comes down to individual actions, our deeds and their consequences can stretch far beyond the self, as spoken of by Eric Wodening:

all the threads (of the web of Wyrd) are interconnected throughout the web. This means that we, as Heathen, must take responsibility for our actions lest they affect others through the web. What seemed like an "innocent white lie" could become a vicious roomer that ruins another's life. Such actions ultimately weaken various threads in the web, arid one of those threads so weakened will almost always be that of the culprit. For instance, a factory dumping toxins in a local stream may well foul their own water supply, resulting in cancer deaths for the lot of them.
Similarly, as all life on the planet is represented by various threads, Man is interconnected to all the other forms of life. For this reason, Heathens must extend the same respect to other forms of life that they have for humans. If mankind damages enough of the other threads that make up our environment, the pattern on the web of Wyrd called "Earth" could well unravel. In other words, man could destroy the earth. It is for this reason that interconnectivity is a concept one should be familiar with.

Steadfastness

Endurance and tenacity, the enduring of one's wyrd, was and still is a desired quality. Our forebears had to be steadfast to survive. The Anglo-Saxon poem "Deor", written by a poet in a bad situation, recounted the sufferings of various heroes and heroines, with the refrain, "Þes offereode, þisses swa maeg" ("That passed over; this may also"). Such steadfastness may be seen in the story of Weyland (see "Alfs, Dwarves, and Huldfolk"), who, forsaken by his swan-wife, imprisoned on an island with his hamstrings cut, and forced to work for his foe, did not give up and die, but instead worked ceaselessly until he was able to forge not only a full revenge, but his own freedom. Such steadfastness is what we need as true folk today, if we are to bring back the ways of our forebears. The Raven Kindred Ritual Book says,

The final virtue is perseverance, which I think the most appropriate because it is the one that we most need to keep in mind in our living of the other values. Our religion teaches us that.. nothing comes easy. We need to continue to seek after that which we desire.. there are no free lunches or easy accomplishments - especially in the subjects we have set before ourselves. If we truly wish to build an Asatru community that people will hold up as an example of what committed people can do, then we must persevere through the hardships that building our religion is going to entail. We must be willing to continue on when we are pushed back. If one loses a job for one's religion, the answer is not to go back and hide, but to continue until one finds a vocation where one can move forward and live as an Asatruar should.
Finally, we must persevere when we simply fail. If one's kindred falls apart because of internal strife, one should go back and start over. Pick up the pieces and continue on. If nobody had done this after the disintegration of the Asatru Free Assembly, this would probably never have been written. We must be willing to continue in the hard work of making our religion strong - not just when it is convenient and easy to do so, but when it gets hard, inconvenient, or just plain boring. To accomplish without striving is to do little, but to persevere and finally accomplish a hard-fought goal brings great honor.

Further Thews 
Evenhed

Equality of the sexes probably was not considered a thew by our forebears, but simply a fact of life. Obviously some roles were divided by gender: most of the heavy fieldwork and fighting was done by men, most of the housework, spinning, and weaving by women. Both sexes could hold rule, in both the religious and social spheres; women, thought to be especially wise from early times, were very often the ones who determined the course of a household or kingdom, though men, especially in matters of battle or law, were usually the ones who carried out the plans.
In modern times, now that physical combat and actual muscular strength are less important than they were in days of old (and now that more women are seriously training in various forms of fighting in any case), there is no reason to expect any sort of division by gender in anything that true folk do, with the exception of adulthood initiations (see "Man-Making" and "Woman-Making"), the exploration of such spiritual mysteries as some folk may think are specifically gender-linked, and certain traditional customs (for instance, the Yule-Buck is only ever played by a male guiser, while it is only fitting for women to pour out drink). As far as leadership and religious activity, the Troth places lull worth on both men and women, as on both goddesses and gods: the highest post in the organization was first held by Steersman James Chisholm, then by Steerswoman Prudence Priest.
Seen in a broader light, evenhed applies to more than gender. In its fullness, it means treating all folk evenly - that is, as their deeds merit. Folk are known as worthy by how well their works and their lives show forth the thews of the Northern way - not because their chromosomes are XY, their skins are white and hair fair, or because their sexual preferences conform to the ideology of mainstream Western society. Neither snobbery nor reverse snobbery, neither discrimination nor reverse discrimination has a place here: evenhed means seeing individuals in terms of their own abilities and worth. It is one of the easiest thews to talk or write about, but one of the hardest to carry out.

Strength

Strength has always been one of the most notable characteristics of the Northern folk - the emphasis we place on strength and health of body as well as mind and soul. This has to do with the way in which the Teutonic peoples looked at the being: rather than separating the physical body from the other elements, our forebears saw it as reflecting them, feeding and being fed by the various sorts of soul-might (see "Soul, Death, and Rebirth"). For us, intellectual, spiritual, and physical capabilities are equally important, and each of us should strive to develop all of them to the best of our abilities. This does not mean that to be really true, you have to have a Ph.D., be a great godwo/man, runester, or seith-worker, hold a black belt in some martial art, and look like Arnold Schwarzenegger or Cory Everett. It does mean that scholars should meditate for a little while every day, that deeply spiritual folk should balance their own revelations with research and left-brain intellectual discipline, and that both of them should have some form of regular exercise and training in defending themselves should it become necessary - just as those who are physically strong and active should not neglect to develop their minds and souls, or trust only in bodily strength and a good heart to see them through all life's trials. Strength of will was also highly prized by our forebears: the weak-willed can hardly hope to show forth any of the atheling-thews, for they all depend more on will than on any other trait. The same strength of will should ever test both mind and body - the true Wo/man should ever strive to make him/herself as mighty in every way as she/he can.

Wisdom

Wisdom was one of the traits most highly prized by our forebears -both in the sense of "knowledge of lore" and of "good judgment". Someone who is truly wise has both a broad background of information and the ability to apply it to the current situation to see what is needed to deal with it in the best way possible. Without wisdom, many of the other thews can be suicidal and destructive, as well as helpful: a bold fool in battle, for instance, is not only likely to get him- or herself killed, but her or his comrades as well; while truth told without wisdom can be more dangerous than a randomly tossed hand grenade, unmeasured busyship leads to nervous collapse or heart attacks, offering guest-friendliness beyond one's means can bankrupt one's own family and offering it to the wrong people can lead to all sorts of difficulties, and so forth.
While the wiser characters in the tales of our folk often seem less heroic than others, events usually prove their caution to have been well-founded.
Both in Nibelungenlied and Þidreks saga, Hagen is most often the character who counsels restraint, and is criticized for it - but the deaths of all around him are the direct result of his wisdom being ignored (while his own death is the price of his heroic choice of troth above all the other thews).
Wisdom is understood in different ways by the followers of different god/esses. For those folk to whom Thonar embodies the highest hopes of their beings, for instance, wisdom is the practicality and common sense which deals with a problem directly at its roots; while to a follower of Frija, wisdom might be fore-sight (of one sort or another), and preparing for a difficulty in advance. Much of Wodan's wisdom is knowing when the other thews serve and when they will not. Some examples of this are given by Lavrans Reimer-Møller:
In the Hávamál verses 42 through 48 we get some ideas how to deal with various relationships. 'If you have a true friend, then to that friend be true' seems to be the general message. But, 'eke lesing for lies: that is, give falsehoods to one who lies to you. Further verses make the point clear: all's fair in love and war.
An oath taken within your kindred to be true to each other as well as the Aesir and Vanir is a strong bond, and not to be taken tightly. But it is only an oath to which you share troth.. You are not always honor-bound to play fair and truthfully when dealing with enemies, especially those who attack you because of your faith....
Remember that Odin is a god of wisdom. That means having the smarts to outwit an enemy. Not just overpower or overwhelm, but outsmart him! Time after time in the Sagas, we see examples of men winning over their enemies by the simple expedient of fighting dirty. There is the story of two neighbors arguing over a piece of pasture. In spite of the established ownership, one neighbor runs his sheep up to the meadow in summer to graze. Finally, the owner hires a warrior to tend his sheep. The neighbor sends his own warrior to settle matters once and for all. It is agreed that they will fight, but while the shepherd-warrior sits down to tie up his bootlace, the other kills him with an axe-blow. Not a fair fight, but certainly decisive! As in so many other cases, it is clear that expediency takes precedence over ethics. It could be argued, of course, that this kind of foul play is indicative of the weakening of honor among the Norsemen, which made it possible for the christians to take over. The last days of a free Iceland would seem to almost prove my point. But there are too many earlier examples of winning by any means to give that argument much credence.
By comparison, there is the honorable example of the captured Jomsvikings going cheerfully to their deaths. But they had little choice except to die on their feet like men and warriors, or behave like cowards. Given an (honorable) out, I'm sure they would have taken it. In fact, the hero of that episode does succeed in saving 12 of the remaining vikings from execution. There is a time to stand bravely and a time to wheel and deal.
I've always thought that it would be a good idea to send troops into battle armed with an affadavit which clearly states that any statements or confession made under duress while in enemy hands are invalid. It would sure save a lot of wear and tear on POWs! And it would not compromise their integrity.
So if an official from the local DSS comes into your home to see if you are corrupting your children with your 'pagan' ways: Lie! If you have to, tell them whatever you must in order to protect your family. Then once you are in the clear, figure out a way to protect yourself from them in the future, either by moving, or by preventing such stuff and nonsense from occurring. I don't think that your fellow Asatruar or the Gods themselves will think any the less of you for using whatever trickery or deceit is necessary.
If you found yourself confronted with a parole board hearing and your freedom depended on the judgment of the chaplain. who happened to be a christian fundamentalist, Lie! Tell him that you have given up your pagan ways and have seen the light. Praise Gee-Zuss! Get out of prison. and then get away, and then get even. One's first responsibility is to family, folk, and faith. One can better serve one's holy oaths by getting free, by any means possible.
This is not to say that any of us who has acted in what he believes to be an honorable and true manner is not worthy of our support, respect, and trust. It is that given the results of some attempts at honorable actions which have been met with trickery and deceit, we must reconsider when and where and how to honor our oaths.
Hindsight is not a lot of use to someone who has made a choice and paid the price, but we can all hope to learn and prepare for a better future. Further, if one of us has misrepresented himself in any way to his fellow Asatruar, then the means must exist for him to make reparations and take responsibility for his actions. But when dealing with religious fanatics of the extreme right-wing fundamentalist type, remember that they truly believe that they are in the right and that any and all actions against you and yours are justified. Be prepared to defend yourself by any means available. Again, not just the courage of Tyr or the steadfastness of Heimdall or the wisdom of Odin or the strength of Thor - but also the cunning of the trickster, Loki!  ("An Oath is an Oath, Or..?")
A large part of wisdom is also the willingness to learn, and the ability to be on the watch for new knowledge. Most broadly stated in Wodanic terms, it is to have one eye in the Well of Mimir - to see all that has gone before - and one eye looking at what is about one, so that one can draw conclusions based on our knowledge and apply them to what is happening today. One who follows all the advice of Hávamál and is able to use it will be truly wise.. .at least in the opinion of the Wodanist who is writing these particular sentences.

Open-Handedness

The worst thing that could be said of a Germanic leader was that he or she was stingy; but the best thing that could be said was that she or he was open-handed and free with food and gifts. In his praise-poem for his friend Arinbjõrn, Egill Skalla-Grimsson says that "he is grim towards gold, he is a foe to Draupnir's descendants.. the gold-dealer, dangerous to rings" -meaning that Arinbjõrn often broke pieces from the coiled gold arm-rings that were the chief Germanic currency in order to give them away. "Ringbreaker" and "ring-giver" are two of the most common poetic phrases for a leader.
In elder days, the ruler was the chief giver of gifts, food, and ale; and in turn got the troth of strong thanes in frith and in battle. Today, there are few of us indeed who stand as major political figures with appropriate budgets for keeping a warband, so our views on open-handedness have to be modified slightly. This is not a thew expected only of the leaders of Hearth, Garth, and Hof, hut of all the folk. As spoken of under "Guest-Friendliness", all should be willing to put in their share of food and drink at feasts; likewise, everyone should be willing to give when it will help their own group or Asatru folk as a whole.
It should also be remembered that in elder days, the nng-giver was the source of gifts and food, but s/he got back as much as she gave, in terms of both presents and services. The thew of open-handedness is not just a matter of money, but of all forms of energy. In the modem age, time and personal effort are every bit as valuable as money - sometimes more so. The open-handed wo/man is the one who is ready to lend car and/or muscles to hauling stones for a harrow, to spend several hours cooking for a feast, to stay up until weird o'clock typing so that a newsletter can go out on time - or drive a kindred member whose car has died to work. In its greater sense, open-handedness is that mutual support which makes it possible for a community to be strong.

Kinship

The basic unit of the Germanic people was not the nuclear family, but the extended family. As spoken of earlier, every member of this family was a contributor in some way. It was the responsibility of the family to take care of those members who were no longer bodily able to support themselves, or who had fallen on hard times. Foote and Wilson quote a passage of Icelandic law describing the hierarchy of responsibility:

A man must first maintain his mother. If he can manage more, 
then he must also maintain his father. If he can do better still,
then he must maintain his children. If still better, then he must
 maintain his brothers and sisters. If better again, then he must
 maintain those people whose heir he is and those he has taken
in against promise of inheritance. if yet better, he must maintain
the freed man to whom he gave liberty.

They add that "If a man cannot maintain his mother and father, he must approach his nearest kinsman who has the means and offer to work as his slave in order to pay off the loan necessary to keep his mother and father alive' (The Viking Age, p. 120). Only when all family resources had been exhausted did the care of the disabled or destitute become the responsibility of larger society.

These were the most important and best of the thews held in high esteem by our forebears. To hold such thews is to be worthy (respected, valued) or have ar (honor); to lack them in the elder times could mean at best to be forgotten after death, at worst to be outlawed in shame.
Of course, by showing forth the thews and thus achieving a good name, Asatruars not only help their own self-esteem, they also help the Troth, the folk, and even the general society. The reasons for this are that the things that help society are the very things that individuals must do to help themselves. Selfish people, braggarts, and those who commit crimes or do wrong in. other ways may help themselves in the short run, but they eventually incur a shild (debt) to society. Just as "every gift calls for a gain", every gain calls for a gift in return. Theft, over-reliance on others, even over-charging for one's services not only destroys individuals, but societies as well. A look at our world and such things as the changing prices of commodities and labor today quickly shows this: the corporation that overcharges and/or deliberately sells an unsafe product is as guilty as the murderer or rapist when it comes to the destruction of the modern world. As Asatruars, we can either play by society's rules of selfishness or we can keep the thews held dear by our forefathers. After all, if we maintain a high standard of worth for ourselves, we can change society. As members of a larger society, our deeds form a part of its collective wyrd. So by keeping the thews of our spiritual forebears, we make that part of society which interacts with us do the same, because it will be our deeds that are helping to maintain or restore the wholesomeness of that society. If we fail to keep the thews of our forebears, we wind up living the wyrd of the non-Heathen majority, and join them in the destruction of not only Middenerd, but all the worlds about it. It is our choice.

To this, Lavrans Reimer-Møller adds his thoughts on politics and the relationship of Heathens to both our own and general society ("Politics:  Left, Right, or Wrong?"):

During the last several years, as I have become more deeply involved in Asatru, I have observed a wide variety of attitudes regarding politics. The problem seems to be one of how to apply the basics of our philosophy to the reality of everyday life. The most often expressed viewpoint seems to be that Asatru does not have a political agenda. That's fine with me and many of the folk but we are surrounded by others who do have a political agenda. If we find ourselves confronted with these kinds of choices, do we choose the left or the right?
Are we as a group more liberal? We tend to agree with the general ideas of social responsibility that are associated with so-called liberalism. We also seem to value the idea of the right to individual freedom and liberty, and thus would seem to be "conservative" But wait; each position has flaws which we might consider to be unacceptable. A liberal" institution, the Department of Children and Social Services, has threatened to take away the children of one of us because of false charges of abusive treatment (involving a "cult") Liberals can be very narrow-minded. Many of us are concerned with protecting the environment, which "conservatives" oppose. in fact, many of the views held by conservatives are generally selfish, mean, and nasty. We are not that either. Confusing?
It all becomes less confusing when we look at the problem from a different viewpoint. Here in America and the West we live in a society which is dominated by the so-called Judeo-Christian code. - which I call "jehovanism". This set of usually misapplied principles rules its victims by the old game of divide and conquer They keep their power by keeping us at war with each other. The conflict between liberals and conservatives is only one example of this, a policy that is so deeply ingrained in jehovanist thought that it has become instinctive. All of the seemingly different manifestations of this philosophy require enemies in order to even exist, from religions to political parties to cops-and-robbers. For example, we have seen the world economy over the past 45 years maintain the illusion of stability and growth by sustaining the illusion of a "cold war" again imaginary enemies. Those same enemies are now our imaginary friends, but the process continues as they keep finding new enemies. (This) hypocrisy... rules every aspect of western politics, economics, social institutions, and religion. Because of the nature of Asatru, I think we tend to isolate ourselves from the world out there to some degree. But it is still out there, and we are still forced to deal with that reality. So how do we deal with this, and how do we define ourselves relative to these established ideas?
The answer, to my way of thinking, is to realize that there is no need to deal with these artificially contrived conflicts in jehovanist terms. One can be both liberal and conservative simultaneously! These two viewpoints can work together harmoniously, and need not lie seen as conflicting. The conflict is imaginary...
We can, and should, be "conservative" in the real sense of that term, not in the selfish and mean-spirited manner in which it is usually embodied. We honor the freedom and liberty of the individual and Loyalty to our word; we respect the family and true values. We Asatru actually do respect our gods, our moms, and even apple pie in ways that the typical American patriot never dreamed of!
But at the same time, we understand that we must work to develop a social structure in which individuals are free to function fully. Beginning with the family, we have a genuine commitment to the collective welfare of the larger social group. There is no real conflict between these ideas!
Those demagogues and  ideologues who would prosper from divisiveness thrive on the exploitation of conflict. The preposterous notion that we must either have individual freedom or have social welfare and justice is a contrivance by the establishment to keep us divided against each other.
The simple fact is that the two ideas support each other in an entirely harmonious fashion if rational action is applied. If each of us in Asatru takes frill responsibility for our actions as individuals, in keeping with the basic tenets of our religion beliefs, then our society benefits. If we work within the Asatru community to create a society in which our individual rights are protected, encouraged, and respected, then each of us can prosper. I repeat: there is no conflict between these two ideas. The individual and the group can and must work together to succeed.
Unfortunately, we don't live in the Midgardh of our dreams. We live in the real world, and we don't stand a very good chance of changing that world, at least not yet. While America claims to honor honesty, responsibility, and justice, the opposite is usually more true. And the powers that be are not likely to gladly relinquish their power. Some of us found that out the hard way during the Sixties.
So what can we do? We can live true within the community of Asatru. just as other religious groups practice their own beliefs and spiritual guidelines within the group, so too can we. If Buddhists, Jams, Sufis, Yogis, Wiccans, Druids, and others can live a life of devotion to ideals and still get along in the real world, so too can we. We start by living true as individual members of our collective. Begin each day with a renewed personal commitment to the principles of Asatru: Family, Folk, and Faith; Loyalty, Honor, and Strength. At the heart of true anarchism is the principle of personal responsibility, of always conducting yourself in a manner which is beyond reproach. Before you take any action, always consider that you must be prepared to take full responsibility for the results of that action.. If you take that extra moment to consider how your actions reflect your inner spiritual self along with your responsibility to those around you, then you will live true...
If you always conduct yourself in terms of how your acts affect your society of Asatru, then you will complete the balanced, rational approach to life which Asatru establishes for us. Your group starts with you; then your family; then the Kindred or Hearth outside of that; then the Asatru community as a whole. As far as interactions with society outside of Asatru, we must consider that as well: however, the circle of involvement weakens as it grows larger. I will extend my personal concern and support to all within Asatru, starting with my home and extending outward. But I won't, as most of us will not, waste time and energy in concerning myself with those who don't have the personal responsibility to live true according to our terms. I have no concern for liars, thieves, and for those losers who are unwilling to try and help themselves.
what if society attacks us and tries to deny us our rights? When confronted by jehovanists, the best proof of the validity of our beliefs is in the demonstrated quality of our lives and our works. We are faithful to  A family, friends, and folk. We don't just pay lip service to these ideas; we
live them. If we have realized and actualized the principles upon which our religion is based, then we need answer to no one. We should always, whenever appropriate to do so, try to put Asatru forward in a positive light. Write letters to the editors. Become a religious activist. Enter into public dialogues. Whenever you come up against a condemnation by the ignorant which tries to characterize us "pagans" as Satanists, Nazis, anti-Christs, or anti-Semites, set the record straight. Tell the truth.
	It is also useful to know when to stop debating and just walk away from an argument. Don't let them drag you down to their level of lies and hypocrisy. The jehovanist megalomaniacs can't he convinced that there is any reason to give up their stranglehold on society. Do what you can to enlighten the innocent victims, then run for your life. When the game is rigged against you, refuse to play. It's hard to think of my old folk-hero Bob Dylan as an Odinist, but he did once say, "to live outside the law, you must be honest". Live true and none can stand against you.

Contributors

Freya Aswynn
Lavrans Reimer-Møller, Elder-in-training, from "Politics, Left, Right, or
Wrong?"; "Taking the Rap", and "An Oath is an Oath, Or..?', submitted
to On Wings of Eagles.
Lewis Stead and the Raven Kindred, from The Raven Kindred Ritual Book
Eric Wodening, from an article on Wyrd written for Our Troth.
Swain Wodening, Elder-in-training, "Troth and the Folk", written for Our
Troth.




Chapter XXVIII

Bylaws of The Heathen Kinship
(revised bylaws, voted on and passed 6/22/06. revised and passed 7/26/09)

The Heathen Kinship is a non-profit religious/cultural organization. It requires that its members affiliate for cultural and religious reasons rather than for racial and political reasons. The Heathen Kinship does not accept discrimination on the basis of race, gender, sexual orientation, or other such divisive criteria.

Article I: Name

The name of this organization shall be The Heathen Kinship

Article II: Purpose

The purposes of The Heathen Kinship are to serve as a church for the practice of the elder religion of the Germanic peoples, to provide a trained priesthood to spread accurate knowledge of the lore and perform the major rites of The Elder Faith of Asatru, and to represent The Heathen Kinship to the society at large. As The Kinship grows, it shall obtain church buildings, land, and other facilities to further these purposes. The overall goal of the Heathen Kinship is to bring back the awareness of the Old Gods to the general public.

Article III: Officers and Procedures

1. The Godhi’s and Gydhja’s shall comprise a body known as the Council of Gothar. The IrminGodhi/Gydhja will head this council. This council will set forth; ethical guidelines, curriculums of study, appointment/removal of new Godhi’s/Gydhja’s, and shall handle any other duties pertaining to the spiritual integrity and security of the Folk.

2. The different guilds within The Heathen Kinship shall have the power to elect leaders, set guild by-laws, and establish their own training programs, as long as they do not violate the Heathen Kinship by-laws, creed, or code.

3. Council and Guild Leaders will keep the Folk updated as to the different activities / issues going on at the minimum of once a month.

4. There must be a specific curriculum made available to all members, which explains exactly what they will need to do to gain membership inside the various guilds or councils. Similarly, all Novices and prospective Novices should also know what steps need to be taken to become a full member.

  1. Any Guildhall may be set-aside/disbanded by a majority vote of the Folk, with the exception of the Council of Gothar. This Council cannot be disbanded, but all actions may be questioned, as this body exist for the betterment of the Folk. Any Council or Guild member may be discharged from their duties by a unanimous vote of the Folk, or by their resignation. Those discharged shall be discharged for a period of not less than six months.

  2. Acceptance to The Heathen Kinship as a Novice is decided by a majority vote by the Council of Gothar. Novices Must complete the requirements to be considered a novice before the Council of Gothar may vote on their acceptance.

  3. Acceptance to The Heathen Kinship as a Full member (Folk) is decided by a unanimous vote of a quorum of the Folk. The vote can only take place at one of the 8 Great Blessing of the year, and after the novice has completed all the Membership requirements. The applicant must have been a novice of the Heathen Kinship for one full year before a vote can take place for full membership. This time requirement may be disregarded by a unanimous vote of the council of Gothar.

8. Any Member may address grievances with any one Member or decision of the Councils / Guilds. Any Member may call a Moot or wait until Thing to address these concerns. It is hoped that differences between individuals can be solved through personal mediation.

9. Full Members in good standing may be removed from the Heathen Kinship by a unanimous vote of a Quorum of the folk at any of the 8 Great Blessings of the year, providing prior discussions and mediation attempts have been made.

10. Full members are considered NOT to be in good standing if they attend less than 50% of the Eight Great Blessings of the Heathen Kinship. Members not in good standing lose their rights to vote on issue. The Council of Gothar will be responsible for tracking who may vote.

11. President – Handles all corporate matters including, but not limited to, organizing finances of the church, planning financial goals and milestones, appointing "social” representatives to organize functions involving press releases and other exterior functions— that are not covered by the IrminGodhi/Gydhja.

12. Vice-President / Secretary – These offices shall be combined and will assist the President and Treasurer in record keeping and maintaining formal meeting minutes. Maintains calendar of social events, membership forms, bylaws, and all paperwork pertaining to the church.

13. Treasurer- maintains balances of all church accounts. Keeps records of weekly income from donations and makes deposits of funds. Organizes accounts in regards to all “guild” incomes.



Article IV: Local Organizations

There shall be four levels of organization in The Heathen Kinship on a local level: Hauses, Hearths, Garths, and Kindreds. Local groups are chartered at one of these levels by the High Rede of The Heathen Kinship

Haus:  A Haus may be formed by one or more adult members of the Heathen Kinship.

Hearths: A Hearth may be formed by two or more adult members of The Heathen Kinship. One of these may be chosen as Hearth leader. A Hearth may also
be a family or group of families dedicated to the Gods and Goddesses of
The Troth.

Garths: A Garth is a group of three or more adult members of The The Heathen Kinship, led by a Godhi, or a man or woman in training to become a Godhi or Gydhja.

Hearths and Garths shall meet regularly in such facilities as are available to study and discuss the lore and to hold blessings.

Kindred: A Kindred is a Garth consisting of at least 5 members of the Heathen Kinship.



Article V:   Definitions:

IrminGodhi/Gydhja

Presiding Godhi/Gydhja over the Council of Gothar. The IrminGodhi or Gydhja will act as chairperson during meetings of the Council of Gothar. The IrminGodhi or Gydhja will have 2 votes during Council votes. This is intentionally designed so that the IrminGodhi or Gydhja's vote will carry extra weight. The current IrminGodhi or Gydhja may designate someone to replace them upon death. In Addition to fulfilling the studies and obligations necessary to become a Godhi or Gydhja, to qualify for the title of IrminGydhja or Godhi, the Gydhja in question must demonstrate unquestioned loyalty to The Heathen Kinship and have made a contribution to the Kindred over and beyond the obligations of a regular Godhi or Gydhja.

Council of Gothar

The Gothar is the collective body of Godhi and Gydhja whose sphere of control relates directly to all matters spiritual: Proper performance, observation of the blessings, blots, and rites performed by The Heathen Kinship or for members of the Kinship. The Gothar shall also be responsible for Instruction of Novices, explanations to the general public, public relations and explanations about Asatrú to the pagan community. Godhi's and Gydhjas shall also plan and oversee events, and announcements of events to the pagan community. Also referred to as the High Rede.

Godhi/Gydhja –

Priest of Asatru. Appointed by Council of Gothar to members in good standing who have completed all the training curriculum for Godhi or Gydhja as set forth by the Council of Gothar.

Drighten –

Folk Member, who is empowered by the Thane Guild, to run the Thane Guild.  This individual will set forth the directives & missions of the Thane guild, as well as certify and set training standards / titles for the members of this Guild.

Storbaendr –

Folk Member, who is empowered by the Baendr’s Hall, to run the Production Guilds. This individual will set forth the directives & mission of the Production guilds, as well as certify and set training standards / titles for the members of this Hall. 

Folk –

A Member in good standing, who has completed the novitiate training, taken the Oath of membership, and participates in the Great Blessings of the year.  Members in bad standing will have their voting privileges suspended, until such time as they are determined to be members in good standing by the High Rede. 

Novice –

An applicant for membership in the Heathen Kinship. One must be a Novice for at least a year before being accepted as a Full Member. This is designed so that the Novice will have a chance to make sure that they fit with the group before becoming an actual member. During this time the Novice will have all the privileges of a full member except voting & holding any official position on any council or existing Guild. Although the Novice may start a probationary Guild, at the Novices time of membership—the founding novice—or novice in charge will assume Mastery of said Guild. The Novice may attend any and all meetings open to a full member, notwithstanding guild or council specific meetings, and they will be afforded the right to offer their opinions without the privilege of a vote. In this way we hope that the Membership and the Novice will get to know each other personally, for better or worse, before Oathing as a Full Member.

Quorum –

A quorum shall consist of no less than 75% of the voting membership present, but only if reasonable efforts have been made to notify all of the membership of the upcoming meeting.





Chapter XXIX

Godwo/men   (Godhis and Gydhjas

The goal of this programme is to give the wo/men who will be the leaders
and teachers among the true folk a full background in the history,
religion, and tradition of our ancestors. This deep understanding is needed
to keep the folk of the Troth true to the ways of our elder kin and to make
the Troth a living way of being in the world today.

In the course of time, we mean to set up a teaching-stead with a large
book-hoard and a full range of teachers and materials - with sufficient
success, even to become officially recognized as a place where Leaders from many Kindreds come to study. In the meantime, we shall still give the best
teaching of which we are able.

The Gohi Training Programme consists of needful studies, which all who
have chosen this way must undertake in some form, and chosen studies, with
which you may work according to your interests and skills. As they appear
here, the chosen studies are guidelines, not requirements, and may be
changed freely.

Godhi Requirements for the Heathen Kinship,

a Kindred of Asatrú

A full member in good standing can request to be recognized as a Godhi or Gydhja after completing the requirements listed below. Since The Heathen Kinship recognizes both the male and the female as priests of the True gods the term Godhi will be used throughout this document to refer to both Godhis (males) and Gydhjas (females), for brevity's sake. The existing Kinship Godhis will review the applicant and vote on his or her status once the requirements below have been met. Some of the required reading material may be found free online at such sites as www.gutenberg.org and www.sacred-texts.com. Sagas can be found at www.sagadb.org and some can be downloaded free from www.amazon.com onto your kindle or kindle app. Before starting this course of study, the applicant must have read the Poetic and Prose Eddas. The applicant must also own a personal copy of the Havamal and Snorri's Prose Eddas as an absolute minimum. It should be noted that we are not looking for book reviews that agree with our subjective interpretation of the myths, the reason for the book reviews is to insure that the candidate has fully read and digested the material and can organize their understanding of the material.


Membership:


The applicant must be a full member in good standing for one year before being considered for the Godhi position.


Experience:


The applicant must lead at least two of the eight greater blessings, serving as the Godhi or Gydhja.

The applicant must write and lead one blessing that correctly conforms to all the requirements of a Heathen Kinship blessing.


Education:


The applicant must read and submit a written book report on books from each of the following three (3) categories. The Godhi that reviews this book report must discuss his observations with the candidate. If you would like to use a book that is not on this specific list, just check with a Godhi and an exception can generally be made if it is by a respected author/translator and covers the same material.



  1. Eddas: Candidate must read at least 2 books, one prose and one poetic

              Here are some suggestions:

Edda (Prose by Snorri Sturluson)

Anthony Faulkes Translation ISBN: 460-87616-3

or

The Poetic Edda

Translated by Lee M. Hollander ISBN: 0-292-76499-5

or

Snorri's Prose Edda

Translated by Arthur Brodeur 1916

http://www.sacred-texts.com/neu/pre/ (free)

      1. General Asatru: Candidate must read at least 2 books on Asatru beliefs

        Here are some suggestions:

Our Troth by KveldulfR Gundarsson

or

Book of Troth by Edred Thorsson

or

Teutonic Religion by KveldulfR Gundarsson

or

Book of Tru Living (edited by Vithar Herren)


3. Runes:

Rune Lore by Edred Thorsson

And 1 of the following:

Futhark by Edred Thorsson

or

Leaves of Yggsdrasil by Freya Aswynn


In addition to the three categories above, the applicant must read and present a brief overview of at least three (3) of the Sagas. Any three (3) sagas from the Icelandic/Viking perspective will be acceptable.

Here are a few Sagas to aid you in finding them.

Several are free on www.sagadb.org

Njal’s Saga, Gisla Saga, Hrafnkels saga, Laxdaela Saga,

Eyrbyggja saga, tr. by Hermann Pýlsson.

Egil's saga, Grettir's saga

Saga of the Volsungs, tr. by Jesse Byock

Beowulf, any translation (Ruth Lehmann's is preferred)



In addition to the first 3 categories and the Sagas, the candidate must familiarize themselves with the Historical Perspective of Heathenry. You must read Gods and Myths of Northern Europe by H.R. Ellis Davidson

And 1 of the following:

The Norsemen by H.A. Guerber

Or

The Road to Hel by H.R. Ellis Davidson

Or

Myths and Symbols of Pagan Europe H.R. Ellis Davidson

Or

Freyja Great Goddess of the North (lund series)



Public Relations:


The applicant must discuss The Heathen Kinship’s public relation policy with a quorum of the existing Godhis. The existing Godhis may require situational roleplaying to determine the applicant's ability to represent The Kinship’s interests.


Policy:

  1. Do not discuss whether thanes are armed (being armed is an individual choice for each person)

  2. We believe in the U.S. Constitution

  3. We are loyal Americans

  4. We are law abiding citizens

  5. At public appearances we do not go into details of closed rites, Walburga, Vali’s day, or Winter Nights

  6. We do not accept minors without parent’s consent.

  7. We are open to anyone regardless of race, sex, or sexual orientation

  8. In front of the public Godhis should retain enough sobriety to comport themselves with decorum. Drinking is perfectly fine, but a Godhi cannot be a public drunk.

  9. Godhis should ensure the kindred does not serve alcohol to anyone under 21 drinks without guardian permission. Serving mead in a Blot is probably okay, but serving a horn of mead during a sumble may not be legal.

  10. Godhis need to keep all oaths (especially those to their significant others).

  11. Godhis should strive to represent the kindred honorably and with appropriate decorum at all times. Have fun, enjoy life, laugh out loud, because all of this is what it means to be Asatru.

  12. Godhis should state problems with Christianity with as little offense as possible. The Christian you are talking to may very well be tomorrow's Heathen if we do not unnecessarily offend them.

  13. Confidential consultations should be kept confidential.

  14. Godhis should not “bash” members to other members. As a general rule, you cannot say something about someone that you would not say in front of them.




Counseling:


The applicant must complete an accredited counseling course or an approved self-study guide to counseling. The applicant must realize that members of the folk may come to them with personal situations. The applicant should be skilled at listening and answering questions based on Asatru beliefs. The applicant may be tested by the existing Godhis in situational role playing to determine their abilities as a counselor. Again, as with the reading material, there is no one particular answer we are looking for to these questions, but rather to ensure that the candidate has given thought to questions such as these and can field these questions without difficulty.



Knowledge of Rites:


The applicant must demonstrate facility with the following Rites.

Land taking

House Cleansing

Wight Banishing

Removing Curses or spells

Orlog Rite

Marriage

Birth

Funeral

Naming

Rites of Passage:

Membership to Kindred

Thane making

Godhi making

Man making (boy making)

Woman making (girl making)

Profession of Troth

Adoption




Elder Training: Application Guidelines

The first set of questions must be answered in full. The second set of
questions deals with materials which will have nothing to do with your
acceptance into the programme, but may be helpful to the Godhi(s) with whom
you work. These latter questions are of secondary importance, as well as
being occasionally quite personal, and therefore may be answered or not as
you choose. If you are writing out your answers by hand, please print, as I
am very bad at reading other people's handwriting.

Send your completed letter of application to the address on the Heathen Kinship's website at www.goheathen.org

I.

1. Why do you wish to become an Elder?

2. What is your experience within Germanic heathendom? How long have you
been a member of the Heathen Kinship?

3. What educational or other background do you have which applies to the
general course of study outlined above? A description of your linguistic
skills is especially important in helping us choose texts for your study.

4. Describe any special relationship you have to the god/esses or
principles of Asatru.

5. Describe your plans for the future as relates to being a Godhi/Gydhja.

6. What sort of resources do you have with regards to locating recommended
texts (University library, local library, private collections, or other
sources)?

II.

1. Are you committed to a long-term relationship? If so, what is the
spiritual orientation of your Significant Other?

2. How supportive of your Troth work can you expect your environment in
general to be?

3. Give a short description of your religious background and/or significant
spiritual events in your life.

4. Outline your educational and/or work history, and briefly describe your
plans for the next five years or so.

5. Anything else you think is relevant.

Godwo/men must be able to show a basic knowledge of the primary sources
(the Eddas and sagas) and some familiarity with the most important
secondary literature (Turville-Petre, H.R. Ellis-Davidson) - in other
words, to have mastered most of the texts on the recommended reading. A
Godwo/man should be able to give a solid introduction to the Northern
religion and co-ordinate a study group. A Godwo/man must be able to work a
blessing or other ritual competently and, at need, to show others how to do
so as well. S/he should be able to express the root beliefs of the Heathen Kinship clearly, though is not expected to engage in intense public debates on
religion (unless s/he has a clear talent in that direction). Most
important, however, is that s/he be a stable, mature person who is capable
of caring for other true folk, willing to listen to their problems in times
of crisis and at horrible hours of the night and help to the best of
his/her ability, and able to perform basic counselling and refer those who
need more help to the appropriate specialists. 




Chapter XXX

Under the Law: Rights, Choices, and Dangers

Three things must be made clear at the outset of this discussion. First, to
the extent it treats specifics, it is concerned with the law of the United
States, with which its author has some familiarity. We may have members
in a number of other countries, including Canada. Although there are similarities, particularly among the laws of English-speaking countries, there are enough differences so that the reader outside the U.S. should not place too much reliance on what is written here in dealing with practical exigencies. Second, few statements concerning the law have contained more truth than the line from the film, Mad Max: Beyond Thunderdome, "You take your chances with the law." There are a number of rights, substantive and procedural, that belong to us in theory and on
paper. In practice, some of these are difficult or impossible to exercise,
and others of them cost a great deal to exercise, in money and in other
ways. Everything depends upon the circumstances. And finally, in dealing
with the legal system, there is no substitute for a good lawyer. Sometimes
the cost of one is prohibitive, but if it is not, and there is any question
in your mind as to the need for "professional help", permit me this word of
advice: in most cases, you will not get nearly as far with a brave smile
and an honest heart as you will with a brave smile, an honest heart, and a
competent attorney.

Organization and Tax Status

The two matters of the organizational structure of local groups and
tax-exempt status are often confused. Though they are somewhat related -
tax-exempt status often depends upon provisions within the organizational
documents - they are, in fact, quite separate, and arranging one in a
certain way does not necessarily guarantee results with respect to the
other. To deal with organizations first, a group is, by definition, either
a corporation or an "unincorporated association." A corporation is a
creature of statutory law, and to form one, one must follow exactly the
requirements of the statutes governing corporations. These statutes are
different in each state. An unincorporated organization is every group that
is not a corporation. The law in some states also recognises the "common
law church", which in many ways functions as a corporation. This concept
works much better with entities already acknowledged by the System as
churches, such as the Roman Catholic Church, since recognition as a common
law church may depend upon a number of factors that one would not guess
without reading case-law on the subject. Do not rely upon your status as an
unincorporated "church" without some research on your state's law
concerning the subject.

In most states, the principal legal benefit of incorporation lies in the
limitation of liability to the assets of the corporation. If your local
unincorporated Garth is sued for, say, back rent or someone's broken foot
suffered in an unfortunate accident at last Walpurgisnacht's naked fire
jump, at least the board of directors, and possibly the entire membership
could end up paying out of their own individual pockets. If the Garth were
incorporated, only the Garth treasury and the assets of those specifically
incurring liability - someone who contractually obligated him/herself
individually, or the individual who may have negligently constructed the
fire pit too wide - are at risk. Some, but by no means all, states may
condition tax exemptions upon incorporation, although other factors,
discussed below, limit the state's power to do so. Most, if not all, states
distinguish between non-profit and for-profit corporations, and we are
talking here about the former, but being a non-profit corporation does not
necessarily free a group from its obligations to pay taxes on its income
and real property. Some states also limit the rights of unincorporated
associations to enter into contracts, own real property (i.e., land), or
appear in court under their own names, requiring individual officers or
directors individually to perform these functions. Often, unincorporated
associations encounter more difficulty in opening bank accounts, as well.

Another, and perhaps more important, benefit of incorporation is the
appearance and sense of legitimacy that arises when Runester Garth becomes
Runester Garth, Inc. The step of incorporation tells the world - because
your Articles of Incorporation will become public record and anyone will be
able to look them up - that your group exists as an entity in and of
itself, and intends to continue as such. It forces your group to work out
its exact organizational structure and, most important, the allocation of
responsibility within the group. Incorporation is often a step that infuses
a group with a new sense of the seriousness and commitment inherent in what
the group is undertaking. It can also help lead to the realization that the
group's interests are important and worthy of consideration independent and
apart from the interests of the individuals making up the group. This
realization is important if the group is to achieve growth and stability in
the long term.

Incorporation can be, however, complicated, time consuming, and expensive.
Organizational documents must be drafted in accordance with state law, they
must be filed with the appropriate agency, periodic reports and updates
must often be made, and the documents must sometimes be published in the
newspaper or posted somewhere. If the state's requirements are not
followed, your corporate status may be void without your knowing it. In
addition, if your state imposes continuing requirements, such as periodic
directors' meetings with minutes kept, you must adhere to them or risk
losing your corporate status. Thus, the decision to incorporate should be
made neither blithely nor blindly; your group should have a clear idea what
it is and where it wants to go before formalizing its legal status.

U.S. tax law permits a variety of organizational tax exemptions. The
ability of a religious group to escape taxation does not, however, depend
on the internal revenue code, but rather, the First Amendment: "Congress
shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting
the free exercise thereof..." The power to tax is also the power to control
or even destroy; therefore, the government cannot be given full taxing
power over bona fide religious groups and churches, to the extent their
activities remain within the scope of the free exercise of religion. The
consequence of this state of affairs is that, theoretically, any bona fide
religious group is automatically tax exempt, and donations to it are tax
deductible. In practise, this is modified by the tax code, which in general
provides that, if the Internal Revenue Service says that you owe them
taxes, then you owe them taxes unless and until the highest court they
choose to drag you through, often the U.S. Supreme Court, says that you do
not owe them taxes.

Insofar as tax exemptions for religious groups are concerned, there are two
possible courses of action: (1) engage in solely religious activities, and
rely on your First Amendment right freely to exercise your religion to keep
the I.R.S. off your back, or (2) obtain what is called a "letter ruling"
from the I.R.S., stating that you are, indeed, a tax-exempt religious
organization. The obvious advantage of a letter ruling is that, as long as
your group retains the same organizational structure and does not engage in
prohibited activities, such as political lobbying, the organization can
rely on its exempt status, and contributors to it can deduct contributions
to it from their taxable income, without worrying about whether it is
"really" tax-exempt or not. Under some circumstances, a church or religious
organization can even engage in some quasi-commercial activities, such as
operating a book store, without losing its exempt status, although properly
setting up such operations without endangering a group's tax exemption can
be tricky, and consulting a good tax accountant of attorney is highly
recommended. A tax-exempt religious organization, can also charter affiliate groups which can then enjoy the parent organization's tax status, although to obtain a letter ruling recognizing such affiliates entails a separate procedure, more complicated and costly than simply obtaining a ruling for a single organization.

A group need not be incorporated to apply for federal tax-exempt status, or
rather, a letter ruling recognizing such status. A state may require that
groups seeking exemption from state taxes incorporate, but applying such a
requirement to churches would be an unconstitutional infringement on the
First Amendment. It may be possible in some states, on the other hand, to
obtain an exemption by incorporating as a non-profit corporation, without
receiving a letter ruling, and hence the right to rely on a federal
exemption without hassles, from the I.R.S. In practice, however, it is
safer to both incorporate and obtain a letter ruling. Incorporation makes
it easier to convince the I.R.S. that a group is properly organized and
does not engage in non-exempt activities, because the group's
organizational structure is a matter of public record and legal
enforceability. Groups interested in obtaining a letter ruling should
contact their local I.R.S. office for detailed instructions. The primary
requirements, however, are that the group exist primarily for religious
purposes, and that no funds, even in the event the group dissolves, may be
used to profit individuals, other than as reasonable wages.

Protection Under the Law

The law, including the "supreme law of the land", the U.S. Constitution and
its amendments, contains a number of protections for the sincere
practitioner of any religion, including Ásatrú. Often, however, one must
assert oneself against the apparent indifference, if not outright
hostility, of "the System" to benefit from these protections. It also helps
to know that more than one option is generally available to achieve a
desired result, and a creative flexibility is often more useful than a
berserker rage.

The most basic of these legal protections is the right to go about one's
lawful business without being subjected to criminal activity. In situations
involving actual or potential confrontations with others, Heathens, like
anyone else, may complain if someone does something illegal to injure them
in any way. This can include aggressive attempts by others to interfere
with your religious activities. Besides arson and murder one, illegal
activity encompasses remaining on your private (either owned or rented)
property after being asked to leave, disorderly conduct, threatening or
intimidating, telephone harassment, assault (which does not necessarily
require that one be physically touched, much less punched in the nose), and
a host of other relatively petty offenses. In most cases, the one and only
step that will set the wheels of justice in motion is to call the police.
Telling someone that you could call the police, or threatening to call the
police, will usually accomplish very little, and may be positively
dangerous. If you are covered (see the following paragraph), and someone is
breaking the law to your annoyance, then you have the right to the
protection of the Polizei, regardless of whether you were just walking down
the street or whether you were in the middle of a Thor's blót.

Do remember, on the other hand, that the police are not your buddies. Most
police achieve promotion and/or are looked on with favour by their
supervisors by, among other things, arresting people. They do not overlook
this fact of their professional lives merely because you, rather than
someone else, called them. Do not, for example, call the police if you are
drinking mead in a public park without the necessary papers, or if your
ceremonial spear does not happen to be fully legal in your state. Also
remember that if you were disorderly or obnoxious to the point where
someone finally took a swipe at you, you may also have violated a stray
statute or two, and police can and do arrest or cite both sides to a
disagreement. In such cases, if you are involved in a potential
confrontation, a strategic retreat is usually the best course of action,
since, if you do not summon the gendarmes, someone else might. On the other
hand, if you are covered and do make the call, the correct answer to the
question, "Do you want to press charges?" or "Will you be willing to
testify in court?" is always "Yes!" You can always work something out
later, but you will often only have one good chance to get the System to
work for you, and that is the first time the situation is brought to its
attention.

If you decide that circumstances do not warrant conjuring the thin blue
line, there are other possibilities open to you through the civil (as
opposed to criminal) wing of the judicial system. Many states have
procedures whereby injunctions against harassing behavior can be obtained.
An injunction is an order of the court that one or more specified people
are prohibited from doing one or more specified things. Disobeying an
injunction can lead either to criminal charges or to a finding of contempt
of court, which can include jail time. Your state probably has lower-level
courts, such as municipal or justice of the peace courts, where this kind
of action can be brought without large filing fees, long waits, and complex
procedures requiring a lawyer. In addition, if someone has caused you to be
out money, say, by damaging your property or causing you to lose your job
through slanderous (i.e., untrue and malicious) remarks to your employer,
or if someone wrongfully upsets you to the point where your health is
affected, you may, and probably do, have a "cause of action", meaning you
can sue the bastards. Here again, if your damages are not overly large but
you want to make sure the point is made, lower courts often allow you to
derive a certain amount of satisfaction on a cost-effective basis.

It sometimes happens, however, that local authorities are not inclined to
perform their jobs as they are supposed to when the victim of improper
behavior is a member of an unpopular minority, such as, for example,
Heathens. You should not, of course, assume that this will be the case
before you make a good-faith attempt to enlist their aid, since not fully
exhausting your direct remedies will undercut any complaint you might later
wish to raise about your treatment at the hands of the locals. Nonetheless,
if you have been wronged in the practice of your religion, you have two
potent weapons under U.S. civil rights law. First, if two or more people
conspire to deprive you of your rights because of your religion (or, for
that matter, because of your race or sex), or if only one person does so
"under color of law" (i.e., in some official, government capacity,
including everyone from the local policeman to the governor), they are in
violation of the Civil Rights Act of 1964, and you can file a complaint.
Generally, the places to complain are the nearest U.S. Attorney's Office
and/or the nearest F.B.I. office. Usually, a visit from the F.B.I. causes a
person to think twice about screwing with your constitutional rights.
Second, the same conditions that allow you to file a complaint with the
F.B.I. also allow you to file a civil lawsuit for damages, including
punitive damages, in federal court. Federal judges are appointed for life,
and they do not need to concern themselves with the political agendas of
pressure groups, such as the Christian right. The federal courts are an
important reason why blacks today do not have to drink at separate water
fountains and sit in the backs of buses, and they can also be the reason
why your Hearth does not have to be held hostage by the local fundie
sheriff, or you do not have to put up with employment discrimination
because of your religion. If the situation is outrageous enough, the
American Civil Liberties Union may even foot the bill for you. Many states
also have equivalents of federal civil rights laws, and using them may be
less expensive. In the event of discrimination or harassment in connection
with your employment, you may also have remedies available through
complaining to the federal Equal Employment Opportunity Commission (EEOC)
or the state equivalent. Such complaints often involve a long wait, but
have the advantage of costing you virtually nothing.

All of the above remedies involve confronting the source of your
difficulties head on, and this is usually what the legal system requires.
In one area, however, this approach is not universally a good idea, and
that area is child custody. As many Heathen and other Pagan parents have
discovered, the law places a great, probably an inordinate, amount of
arbitrary authority over people's children in the hands of
not-overly-educated and sometimes outright bigoted child welfare workers.
While you do have a recognised fundamental right to raise your own
children, the government also has the right to protect your children from
what it regards as your potentially harmful practices, including the
practice of your religion. When you realize that some parents have, under
the authority of their religions, withheld medical care from their
seriously ill children, or instructed their children to handle poisonous
snakes, you can understand why this is so. On the other hand, this
authority can be, and frequently has been, abused by pious folk hopped up
on the pathetic disinformation turned out in enormous quantity by the
"satanic ritual abuse" industry, in which the modern equivalent of snake
oil salesmen travel the country lecturing police departments, child
protective agencies, and whomever else will listen to them on the deadly
danger of various practices and symbols, such as the swastika and the
Thor's hammer ("an upside-down cross"). In a more prosaic setting, it
sometimes occurs that a Pagan parent will lose custody of his or her child
in a divorce action, based largely on the dramatic effect of courtroom
revelations of his or her secret "cult" practices, or, more often, the
threat of such tactics from the more mainstream spouse's lawyer.

In most situations involving a Heathen parent, his or her child, and the
System, it will not be enough bravely to stand on one's constitutional
rights in a confrontational manner. It is absolutely essential in any such
dealing with the authorities to remain calm, in control, and rational, and
to keep your long-term desire to raise your own child in the forefront of
your mind, rather than allow emotional impulses to give possible enemies
the excuse they need to take your child away from you. Any outbursts,
threats, violence, or bizarre behavior will probably make its way into a
report or court document, and will never be forgotten in any subsequent
proceeding. In such cases, it is helpful to remember Óðinn the Wanderer,
who takes whatever shape is necessary to accomplish his purpose. Become
absolutely as reasonable, and even main-stream, as you possibly can. Do not
confront police, case-workers, social workers, psychologists,
commissioners, judges, or even opposing attorneys, but rather, concentrate
on making the best case possible for leaving your child with you.
Frequently, there will be a stage of the proceedings at which you will have
your shot at vindication, but you must wait for it and you must earn it.

Often enough, the law is a battlefield in somewhat different guise and with
somewhat less drastic consequences. Although this prospect may seem unfair
and intimidating, it is nonetheless the product of our own heritage.
Ancient Germanic law was like that, and the tradition has continued without
break in the Anglo-Saxon countries. Our faith, more than most, prepares us
to face legal struggles and to recognize them for what they are. Our legal
system, more than most, recognizes the value of the strong and free
individual in society, and tends, ultimately, toward the protection of that
individual. Ásatrú, and each Ásatrúar, can benefit enormously through the
informed and judicious use of that legal system, but to obtain those
benefits, we must act with the courage and wisdom that our gods have taught
us.

Written by:

Bill Bainbridge, Elder, Wordsmith of the Troth






Chapter XXXI

Ways of Worship

Veiztu hvé rísta skal, veiztu hvé ráða skal?

Veiztu, hvé fá skal, veiztu hvé freista skal?

Veiztu, hvé biðja skal, veiztu, hvé blóta skal?

Veiztu, hvé senda skal, veiztu, hvé sóa skal?

Among the best-known stanzas from the Hávamál is the one quoted above,
which summarizes the skills required for runecraft and religion. The first
two verses, in which the High One refers to inscribing, reading, colouring,
and interpreting the runes, are often quoted. The second pair of lines are
less familiar, but the verbs used contain the essence of Germanic religious
practice. The first one, biðja, bears a family relationship to the English
"bid" and is usually translated as "ask". According to Grimm (Teutonic
Mythology), the term has the implication of supplication. The second,
blóta, refers to the sacrifice in which the blood was used to bless the
people and the meat eaten after it had been dedicated to the gods. The
third, senda, can be translated as "send", with the implication that it
involves getting the message to the gods, while the forth, sóa, means to
make an offering that is in some sense "squandered", perhaps one which is
destroyed or left to the elements rather than being shared. Together they
summarize the principal ways in which the people of the North worshipped
their gods.

The word "worship" comes from the Old English "weorðscipe", meaning to
honour or give worth to something. Worshiping the gods can involve
honouring them with prayer and praise, and pleasing them with worthy
offerings. To worship the Northern gods today, we must go beyond the
meanings other religions have given those words to their origins, and
reinterpret them in a way that will be in harmony with ancient practice as
well as meeting modern needs. If we wish to enjoy the presence and the
friendship of the gods, we must know how to give them what they want from
us and how to ask them for what we need.

Prayer

Prayer refers to the words and acts involved in communicating with the
gods. The available information seems to suggest that the ancient Germanic
peoples addressed their gods in a variety of ways. Surviving examples
include the prayer of Sigdrifa, skaldic prayers to Þórr, prayers
incorporated in Anglo-Saxon spells, and the Rus merchant's prayer as
reported by Ibn Fadlan (quoted in Tryckare, p. 138).

Perhaps the most beautiful are the words with which the newly awakened
valkyrie Sigdrifa (Brunhild) greets Sigurd.

Hail to thee Day, hail, ye Day's sons;

Hail Night and daughter of Night,

with blithe eyes look on both of us,

and grant to those sitting here victory!

Hail Æsir, hail Ásynjur!

Hail Earth that givest to all!

Goodly spells and speech bespeak we from you,

and healing hands in this life!

Sigrdrífumál 2-3

The prayer consists of salutations and requests. Hailing the powers
identifies them, attracts their attention, and honours them. In this
prayer, Sigdrifa calls upon powers of Nature - Day, Night, Earth - and the
gods and goddesses as a group. Her requests are for favour and success in
general, and in particular for skill in magic and communication.

Prayers to Þórr by such skalds as Vetrliði Sumarliðason and Þórbjörn
dísarskáld are preserved mostly in fragments quoted by Snorri in the
Skáldskaparmál for the sake of the information they contain. A typical
example (tr. Turville-Petre, Myth and Religion, p. 85) goes -

You smashed the limbs of Leikn,

you bashed Þrivaldi;

you knocked down Starkaðr;

you trod Gjalp dead under foot.

John Lindow compares these lines to others from Indo-European tradition, in
which prayer "...included exactly the two components of praise of the
deity, not infrequently in the second person, followed by a request to the
deity" ("Addressing Thor", p. 132). He further speculates that the
remainder of the prayer (not quoted by Snorri), "...called on Þórr to slay
the missionaries Þangbrandr and Guðleifr and implicitly assigned them to
the category of giants in the mythological system..." (p. 133).

A modern example is -

Redbeard, firebeard, bringer of lightning,

Lifegiving stormlord are you, lover of feasting,

Father of freedom, fighter most doughty,

Donar, defender, dearly we need thee,

Hear us, hero, hasten to help us,

Gifts thy great goats gallop to bring.


A formula for such a prayer could be stated as:

Hail (best-known name), (descriptive epithet),

Child of (parent), lover of (spouse),

You who dwell in (name of hall),

You who (summarize several relevant deeds)

With your (characteristic tool or weapon)

Come swiftly to aid me

As I (summarize problem being addressed).

A similar structure is found in some of the spells included in G. Storms'
Anglo-Saxon Magic. Deities can be invoked through chanted incremental
repetitions of their names, references to attributes and epithets, and
sympathetically, by reference to relevant episodes from their mythology.
This latter might be called the "epic formula", in which the summary of the
deity's success in a similar situation is followed by an affirmation that
things will happen as they did then. Perhaps the most famous pagan example
is the Old High German Second Merseberg Charm (see "Balder" for
translation). Here is an example of a christian Icelandic spell,
repaganized in parentheses -

May bleeding be stanched for those who bleed;

blood flowed down from God's cross.

(blood flowed down from the worldtree).

The Almighty (Alfather) endures fear,

from wounds tried sorely.

Stand in glory, even as in gore,

that the Son of God (High One) may hear of it.

The spirit and bleeding veins -

s/he finds bliss who is realeased from this.

May bleeding be stanched -

bleed neither without nor within.

With these words St. John the Apostle

stanched the blood on the lips of our Lord

(Odin stanched the blood

when he was gashed by the spear).

A stone called Surtur stands in the temple. There lie nine vipers. They
shall neither wake nor sleep before this blood is stanched. Let this blood
be stanched in the name of the Father and the Son and the Holy Ghost (In
the name of Odin), etc. (Kvideland & Sehmsdorf, Folk Belief, 28.6)

The formula for this kind of prayer/spell might be expressed thusly -

* (Summary of myth, as for instance the binding of the wolf Fenrir by the
gods)

* (Statement of the action taken in terms which can apply to both the
problem in the myth and the current difficulty, as for instance the forces
of conflict and destruction, in form of an affirmation e.g. "The fetter is
fast, and Fenrir bound!")

There is also evidence for prayer in the form of a simple request. When the
Rus merchant brought his offerings to the god-posts he said -

"Oh my lord, I have come a long way with so many slave-girls and so many
sable furs (and then he mentions all the goods he has with him). Now I come
to you with these offerings...I want you to send me a merchant who has lots
of dinars and dirhems and will buy on my terms without being difficult."

The traditional position for prayer has been the subject of some discussion
in the neo-Norse community. Most Ásatrúar favour an upright stance with
arms lifted in salutation (the "Elhaz" stöðr), feeling that this position
is most in keeping with characteristic Viking independence. Although this
is a view with which I (Diana Paxson) find myself in sympathy, most of the
evidence seems to suggest that at least at times the actual practice was
otherwise.

In his chapter on Worship (vol. I: III) Grimm analyzes the etymologies of
several relevant terms, beginning with their earliest known Gothic forms.
Among them are inveita, which seems to be an act of adoration involving
some kind of inclination of the body, although it is not clear whether this
meant bowing the head or bending the knee. He cites a number of references
in support of this idea, including one in the Saga of St. Olaf in which men
fell til iarðar fyrir likneski (fell to earth before the likeness) of Þórr
(Fornm. sög. 2, 108). The Langobards were said to have bowed their knees
before a goat's head. The Rus traders observed by ibn Fadlan on the lower
Dnieper prostrated themselves to the god posts they had set up by the
riverside. A variation of this may have been the uncovering of the head to
show honour (in contrast with the Roman and Jewish practice of covering the
head when engaged in religious activity), preserved in the modern rule of
etiquette which requires men to remove their hats in church (it should be
noted that in the mediæval Church, as among the ancient Goths, only the
chief priests worshipped with heads covered [Grimm, I:32].

Even the Old Norwegian Rune Poem is suggestive - SÓL er landa ljóme; lúti
ek helgum dóme (Sun is the light of the lands; I bow to the holy doom). The
verb here, "lúta" means "to lout down", to bow, as when Thomas the Rhymer
met the Queen of Faerie and "louted down upon one knee". One form of prayer
may have involved standing with upraised arms in the form of the Elhaz
rune, but apparently at times the Germanic peoples also bowed down in
adoration, especially, it would appear, in honouring the sun.

A line in the Sólarljóð (41) which states "henni ek laut hinzta sinni,
alda-heimi í" - "I louted to her (the Sun) for the last time in life's
world", meaning that it was the last day of the speaker's life, is even
more indicative. "Bowing to the holy doom", therefore, is not necessarily
an expression either of Norse fatalism or christian influence, but could be
a reference to a daily ritual of alignment with the forces that govern the
fate of all beings as represented by the daily journey of the sun (a rite
for which is given in this book under "Small Rites" - KHG).

Bowing to the east to hail the rising sun is mentioned in the Landnámabók
I:9. The references from Norse literature cited above refer to the practice
of saluting the rising sun, and several Anglo-Saxon charms direct the user
to face sunward, or move deosil. Grimm, on the other hand, cites numberous
references in favour of facing North for worship, a view supported by the
mediæval christian prejudice against that direction.

Offerings

"Vápnom oc váðom skolo vinir gleðiaz,

þat er á siálfom sýnst;

viðrgefendr oc endrgefendr erost lengst vinir,

ef þat bíðr at verða vel.

Vin sínom scal maðr vinr vera,

oc gialda giöf við giöf..."

- Hávamál 41-2

"Betra er óbeðit, enn sé ofblótið,

ey sér til gildis giöf;

betra er ósent, enn sé ofsóit."

- Hávamál 145

Prayer and praise, whether uttered standing or bowed down, were only part
of Heathen worship. The giving of gifts has always been one of the
strongest bonds between humans and the god/esses. In his Germania, Tacitus
wrote of the mass sacrifices made by the Germanic tribes in thanks for
battle-victories, a description held up by archaeological discoveries such
as the Hjortspring and Illerup finds; much later, the Old Norse term for
someone who was close to the god/esses was "blótmaðr mikill", "a great
sacrifice-person", and the sacrifices at Old Uppsala were known even in
christian lands. Many of the most valuable and enlightening treasures of
the Germanic archaeological records, such as the Gundestrup cauldron, the
Trondelev sun-wagon, and the lur-horns of the Bronze Age, were preserved by
being sunk into peat bogs as sacrificial gifts for the god/esses...as were
the slain corpses of Tollund Man and many others. The harvest-sacrifices -
the last apple on the tree for Freyja, the last sheaf in the field for
Wodan - lived on in the ways of the folk long after the tales of the
god/esses had been forgotten. So what does this mean for those who seek to
turn back to the ways of our forebears? Are we, in fact bound, to slay
animals as gifts to our god/esses in the old ways?

The first point that must be thought on is the fact that our earlier
kinfolk did make gifts to the god/esses in this way, and thought of it as
one of the chief parts of troth. Whatever we do, we cannot condemn the
sacrifice of living beings out of hand as "immoral" without harming our
understanding of our elder troth. Our forebears did these things for good
reason, in answer to the needs of their world; they were neither fools nor
bloodthirsty wasters of life.

At the same time, we cannot deny that the world has changed in the last
thousand years. By and large, it is the understanding of the Ring of Troth
that our task is not to create an historical reconstruction of the religion
precisely as it was practised in Iceland in 999 C.E. - or England at the
time of the Saxon invasion - or Germania in the time of Hermann the
Cheruscan. Rather, we seek to bring the elder troth forward - to shape it
as it should have grown through these past thousand years of sleep. To
understand how this may be done while keeping our ways true to those of our
earlier kin, we must consider the context of each of their deeds and the
need which gave birth to them; and thus with the question of sacrifice.

Animals were by no means the only offerings. The archaeological record
shows that the sacrifice of fine goods was practised in Scandinavia from
the Stone Age through the Viking Age. Necklaces of amber too large for
humans to wear; golden vessels; fine bronzework; ships and weapons; long
braids of hair: whatever was dearest to our forebears, they shared it with
the god/esses, sinking their treasures into hallowed waters. Grains,
fruits, and flowers might be sacrificed (especially the first fruits of the
harvest), alcoholic drink was poured out in libation, hair cut from the
forelock. Even a vow could be considered an offering. This manner of
gift-giving should raise no fears in even the faintest of hearts: as the
god/esses share their might and good with us, so we give back tokens of our
own riches and victories. Folk customs, too, have kept this great root of
troth alive. With a few exceptions, such as the Yule-tide boar still
celebrated in Scandinavian marzipan images and in the English "Boar's Head
Carol", the old blood-sacrifices were suppressed under christianity.
However, the less offensive offerings of leafy branches, garlands of
flowers, and sheaves of grain continued to be made, and the drinking of
memory ale, the minni-öl, or sumbel, survives to this day in the custom of
drinking toasts at banquets. Even when offerings to the old gods were
forbidden, folk continued to put out alcohol, milk, or broth for the
house-spirits. One sees a survival of this custom in the milk and cookies
that are set out for Santa Claus.

As well as sinking gifts to the god/esses, our forebears also hung them on
trees or burned them. One practice which has become more common among true
folk today is the burning of small model Viking ships at Ostara or
Midsummer; these ships often bear messages for the god/esses written in
runes on small strips of paper. The custom of decorating the Yule tree is
likely to hark back to the elder days when sacrifices were hung up in this
way. All of these can easily be done now, though if a gift is to be burned,
of course, you have to make sure that the fire is suitable for burning it
safely.

Less comfortable to most folk of today is our forebears' practice of
sacrificing living things. The most common form of this was the killing of
cattle at Winternights - the ordinary slaughtering season. The blood was
sprinkled on the harrow and over the folk; but the meat was eaten. While
the rite of sacrifice fulfilled two spiritual goals - the strengthening of
the bonds between god/esses and humans and the hallowing of the beast which
had given its life to feed the folk - the reason for the killing was
practical. The available fodder could only feed so many beasts; the cattle
were often so weak at winter's end that they had to be carried out to the
pastures. Surplus animals had no chance of survival, and would have eaten
the food that the others needed to stay alive; therefore, they had to be
killed for meat in the fall. The Yule boar, likewise, replaced the stores
of food which were eaten at the Yule feast. Sacrifices were also made at
celebratory feasts, to mark great occasions, such as weddings, funerals, or
king-makings, to gain the favour of the gods for planned undertakings, or
to placate them in times of disaster. Most of these cases involved large
gatherings where the folk had to be fed and, therefore, animals slain to
feed them.

More rarely, an animal would be given to a god or goddess for a specific
purpose, as in Víga-Glúms saga where Þórkell, asking Freyr for revenge on
Víga-Glúmr, "went...to Freyr's hof and led an old ox there...and the ox was
so moved (by Þórkell's prayer to Freyr) that he bellowed and fell down
dead, and it seemed to Þórkell that it had gone well, and he was now higher
of hugr, for it seemed to him that his prayer had been received". It is not
clear that Þórkell had meant to slay the ox: it might have been given as a
temple beast, similar to the many other cattle treated with particular
reverence in Norse literature and to the horse Freyfaxi, whom Hrafnkell
Freysgoði shared equally with Freyr, "vin sínum" (his friend), and
concerning whom he "swore this oath, that he should be the bane of any man,
who should ride him against his will". The inviolability of creatures
dwelling in holy places is also mentioned in connection with Fosite's holy
island (see below) and the mountain Helgafell (Eyrbyggja saga, ch.IV).
Grønbech mentions that "the blot-beast (the living, but hallowed creature -
KHG) is man's way of raising himself up beyond his limitations. To blote is
to increase qualities to the extraordinary, nay to the divine"; and from
this spring the many stories in the later sagas about men who trusted in
sacred cows and such: the hallowed animal was filled with the might of the
gods (II, pp. 201-5). This form of gift-giving may be the easiest in modern
times (I can easily see a host of Ása-cats dedicated to Freyja and treated
with fitting reverence and love, for example).

When an animal was sacrificed, its head, heart, and hide would be hung up
as an offering, its blood poured over the hørg and sprinkled on the people
and the shrine, and its meat boiled and eaten in the communal feast.
Blood-bowls and sprinklers were part of the furniture of a hof. Only
healthy, perfect animals must be offered, garlanded with flowers and
aromatic herbs. The boar was especially sacred to the Vanir; horses seem to
have been the most valued sacrifice, and it is possible that their meat was
eaten only on sacred occasions. White or black bulls, rams, and he-goats
were also preferred, especially those which had never been used for labour.
It is my (Diana Paxson's) speculation that the hare was sacred to Eostara
and eaten only at her festival. Participation in such feasts was both the
privilege and condition of membership in the tribe or the community.

In these times, few of us live on farms or have to kill our own meat, and
thus the general emphasis on animal sacrifice can be understood to have
shrunk accordingly. The spiritual needs, however, remain: the giving of the
holy gift and the honouring of the animals who die to feed us throughout
the year. Those who do not raise or slaughter food animals can answer this
need by the making of bread-loaves in the shape of cattle, horses, or
swine, and "slaughtering" them during the rites. However, it should never
be forgotten that the bread beast represents real lives, which all who eat
meat are ultimately responsible for ending; and its slaughter represents
the dedication of those lives and the strength the eaters gain from them to
the god/esses.

As the Troth grows, it may in the course of time prove to be financially
practical for those hofs or garths which put on large feasts in rural area
to learn how to butcher their own meat (being careful, of course, to
fulfill whatever requirements of training and licensing are set out by
local law); and should this come to pass, the hallowing of those beasts'
lives will be both needful and good.

The question of human sacrifice is a much thornier one. Killing without
government sanction is unquestionably illegal; in addition to which, the
least whiff of a religion's possible willingness to commit human sacrifice
is more likely than anything to cause an hysterical public reaction against
it. At the same time, we cannot deny the deeds of our ancestors because
some aspects of their troth are not generally acceptable today. We must,
then, look at why and when they practiced human sacrifice, and whether any
of these circumstances could ever apply today.

Human sacrifice among the Germanic peoples was relatively rare, and usually
took place in clearly defined situations, which fall into four categories:
war, law, holy kingship, and death-rites.

The best-documented, and apparently most common of these, was sacrifice
connected with battle. This kind of sacrifice was further divided into (1)
the hallowing of the slain to Óðinn before the battle, and (2) the
sacrifice of prisoners in thanks for victory, as described in Tacitus. The
first of these presents no problem: there is no reason why a soldier today
should not, as King Harald did, "promise all the souls he ejected from
their bodies...to Óðinn." Such a hallowing, carried out before the battle,
should turn the warrior's awareness to the awesome and terrible nature of
the killing s/he expects to carry out, and call forth Wodan's aid in it.
The sacrifice of prisoners, like the Winternights slaughter, was probably
originally practical, not bloodthirsty: men taken in battle were too
dangerous to keep as slaves and could not be turned loose; therefore, our
forebears dedicated their foes to Wodan before the fight, knowing that they
would have to kill them all in any case. Again, what we see here is a
hallowing of a necessary slaying, rather than slaying for a holy reason.

The death penalty, and thus sacrifice for reasons of law, were relatively
rare, though the former was by no means unknown among the Germanic folks.
The paying of weregild or various degrees of outlawry were the normal
punishments for lawbreaking. In cases of murder, the dead person's kin
might take revenge, and sometimes revenge-killing was carried out as a
sacrifice, as revenge was considered a holy act (vg. Stephen Flowers'
"Sigurðr: Rebirth and Initiation") - though it should be noted that most of
the examples here come from legendary hero-tales. Alcuin's Vita Willibrordi
describes how Willibrord broke the holiness of Fosite's island by baptizing
people in the hallowed spring and slaying animals who were protected by the
god's frith; the punishment for this was determined by lots, and one of
Willibrord's followers duly killed. However, Ström (Sacral Origins of the
Germanic Death-Penalty), citing this and other cases where the violation of
holy places or objects was punished by death, is careful to note that the
death penalty for sacrilege, so far as our materials show, neither bore a
sacral character, nor constituted a sacrifice to the wrathful divinity.
Kristni saga says that "heiðingar blóta hinum verstum mönnum", Heathens
sacrifice the worst men, and parallel references in Landnámabók and
Eyrbyggja saga speak of criminals being given to Þórr by breaking on a
rock. Ström rejects the historical accuracy of these descriptions, but
accepts the existence of a general understanding that, when community
sacrifices were required, the first victims chosen were criminals, or in
the absence of criminals, slaves. Such community sacrifices, however, were
wholly a function of the existence of a social system in which legal
authority and sacral authority were most often vested in the same person,
and very often thought of as one and the same. No religious groups today,
of course, have any power over juridical process; thus for the Troth to
hold such sacrifices of its own volition is impossible. However, two
possibilities exist for sacralizing of the death penalty. In cases where
true folk believe that justice is being done by the execution of a
criminal, it would be fitting to hold a blót to Tiw, Skaði, and Váli at the
time of the condemned wo/man's death. Also, if a true wo/man should be
condemned to death, that person might choose to ask for a Troth Elder as
chaplain and to be ritually hallowed as a gift to the god/esses before
execution.

The third type of Germanic human sacrifice, the killing of the holy king,
is of course dependent on the institution of the holy kingship. This
institution had various forms, the best documented of which are the
Froði-kingship (a king tied to his land, a defender in war rather than an
aggressor, best known for peace, fruitfulness, and good administration) and
the Wodan-kingship, an extension of the role of drighten (leader of the
warband), where the god's blessings are firstly shown in battle-victory and
secondarily in fruitfulness for the conquered lands. Both forms of kingship
often end with the king himself as a human sacrifice, either given to the
god by his folk, as with Domaldi of Ynglinga saga, or taken directly by the
god, like Saxo's Harald War-Tooth and Víkarr of Gautreks saga. It is highly
doubtful, however, that we will ever again live in a world where a single
man is seen as personally responsible for bringing fruitfulness to the land
and success to the folk who follow him; and thus it is highly doubtful that
we will ever again see a holy king sacrificed.

The fourth kind of Germanic human sacrifice, that associated with burial
rites, was often voluntary. A wife or concubine might choose to be slain at
the death of her man. This appears in several of the heroic legends -
Brynhildr killing herself when Sigurðr is dead, Signy returning to the
house where her husband Siggeir is burning - but is also attested by ibn
Fadlan's famous description of a ship-burial among the Rus on the Volga.
There are no records of a wife or concubine being slain against her will at
her husband's death, nor of any social stigma attaching to a woman who
outlived her husband; in fact, widows had the most advantageous legal and
financial position of any women. This free choice does not seem to have
applied to slaves; there are a number of records of thralls being killed to
accompany their masters to the graves, and this is supported by
archaeological evidence, such as Viking Age double graves from Denmark in
which one of the bodies had hands and feet bound and head hewn off. It is
also thought that one of the two women in the Oseberg ship burial was the
maidservant of the other, killed to accompany her mistress (though opinions
vary as to which was which). Obviously, since the institution of slavery is
long gone, the latter type of burial-sacrifice will never be practiced
again; the former, having been, as far as we can tell, a matter of personal
choice, falls rather into the category of suicide than of sacrifice.

Worshiping the Gods Today

Naturally enough, what little evidence we have for ancient religious
practice tends to focus on public and community rather than individual
worhip. Today, we are in need of models for both group workings and
individual spirituality. Indeed, considering how many of those who follow
the Northern Way are forced by circumstance to practice as solitaries, a
discussion of solo spiritual work is both useful and necessary. Even those
who participate regularly in group worship will find their experience
enriched and their skills improved by regular work alone.

Especially at first, it is useful to create a physical focus for worship in
the form of images, altars, and shrines. Setting up an altar is easy
enough, indeed it seems to be an instinctive response, and people are
sometimes surprised to realize that this is what they have done. For the
ancients, the pillars of the high seat and the hearth were sacred within
the home. Outdoors, they built altars of heaped stones, established sacred
groves, or built "halls" for the gods. Today, a rock can be placed beside
the hearth or stove to make a home for the house-spirit, and a cairn or a
single stone placed in the garden for offerings.

However, the best aid in developing contact with the gods is a personal
altar. This need not be elaborate - a clear spot in the bedroom secure from
interference by small children or animals is a good place to begin
(warning: as you work with more deities, altars may proliferate, until your
bedroom begins to look like a hof). If the altar is dedicated to a single
deity, cover it with a cloth of the colour that seems most appropriate (for
instance, dark blue for Odin, red for Týr, or an earth tone for one of the
Vanir). Otherwise, a piece of white or natural coloured linen will do very
well (warning: you will spill drink, candlewax, and other things on it in
the course of time, so choose something that can easily be washed - KHG).
Images of the gods can be photocopied from books or magazines, or you can
make a miniature god-post by carving a face on a stick and setting it in a
pot of sand. For the more artistic, reproductions of ancient figurines can
be modeled from Sculpey or clay. These images can be changed as you work
with different deities. A votive candle in a glass container is the safest
way to illuminate your image. You may also set up a small bowl or plate and
cup (shot glasses or saki cups are convenient) for offerings. Burning herbs
is traditional for purification, though not as an offering, but incense can
be very helpful in creating the right mood.

Such an altar honours the gods, but it is more than decoration. Each day
set aside a time when you will have privacy. Light the candle, perhaps pour
a little mead into the offering bowl. Sit comfortably and contemplate the
altar. You may spend this time simply in thinking about the deity,
considering the meaning of his or her myths and their relevance to your
life. Or you may compose formal prayers on the models given above.
Memorizing a brief invocation is a good way to shift gears as you begin. To
deepen the experience, chant the name/s of the deity, or intone an
appropriate rune.

Close your eyes and build up a mental picture of the god. When you can hold
the image easily, repeat your prayer, and wait for reply. You may find it
helpful to precede this activity by a systematic relaxation of muscle
groups, or by slowing and counting your breaths. If you are experienced in
pathworking or shamanic journeying, imagine a door leading from your room
through a passage to the Midgard that lies within. Using the arrangement of
the nine worlds on Yggdrasil as a map, seek the one where your deity is
most likely to be found and build up an image of his or her home or temple.
Ask to enter, call on the god, and hold your conversation there. An ancient
practice was to lie down and wrap oneself in a cloak of hide for such
journeying and communication.

With regular practice, you will find it easier to sense the presence of the
deity, and eventually you may find that not only is your god always waiting
when you journey inward, but that awareness of his/her presence comes to
you when you are in a state of "ordinary" consciousness, so that worship
becomes companionship. I believe that in the old days those who were known
as "friends" of specific gods experienced the relationship in this way.
Such an awareness may at times become quite powerful, to the point where it
is necessary to explain to the god that you need to be able to work without
distraction, and limit the interaction to appropriate times. Do not, for
instance, contemplate your god while operating a moving vehicle (unless of
course he is a better driver than you are). Carrying on conversations with
the god in your head is not pathological so long as you do not do it aloud
in public or when you are supposed to be doing other things.

The gods will also tell you what they desire in the way of altar ornaments
and offerings. Again, you may find it necessary to explain that times have
changed, and items such as gold armrings and fresh horsemeat may be hard to
come by. It is reasonable to ask a god who wants something to cooperate by
helping you to find/pay for it. In many ways, if an active relationship is
to endure, common sense and courtesy are required on both sides.

However authentic we would wish to be, unless one lives on a farm and has
mastered the skills involved in humanely butchering an animal (see
discussion above), blood sacrifice is not an opportunity for the
contemporary Heathen. However, in addition to the sumbel, offerings can be
made in a number of ways. When one is holding a feast (or any family
celebration) a portion should be set out for the house-spirit (who lives in
a stone by the stove or hearth) and/or gods, first in a plate or an
offering bowl and then on a hørg of heaped stones or hung on a tree in the
yard. In my household we hang appropriately shaped gingerbread cookies on
the Yule tree.

For a more elaborate ritual, go to a wilderness picnic area to make your
offering. Try for a time and place where you can be reasonably private
(such as a mid-week evening). If you ward the place well enough you are
unlikely to be disturbed. Build a hørg of heaped stones, place offerings of
meat, etc. upon it and pour red wine (such as the Hungarian "Bull's Blood")
over it as you make your prayers. If barbecue facilities are available,
take a pot and make a stew with barley, onions, and garlic or other herbs,
and hearts of whatever animals are available. It is advisable to cut up all
the ingredients and partly cook the barley ahead of time. Seethe the stew
with beer or wine, and as it bubbles, stir it, chanting runes and spells.
When it is done, some can be offered on the hørg and the rest shared. The
experience can be amazingly powerful.

Food which is set out in this way invariably disappears, especially if you
have pets. This is consistent with Heathen tradition. We are told by ibn
Fadlan that when the dogs came out at night and ate the meat, the merchant
would say, "Assuredly my Lord is pleased with me and has eaten my
offerings". Even in Ásgard, Geri and Freki ate the food given to Odin.

Although there are days (such as Wednesday for Odin) and times (such as
Yule or Ostara), when worship is particularly appropriate, honouring the
gods is not an activity which should be restricted to one day of the week,
or to those times when the community meets for feasting or festivals. Each
day, and each activity, can be dedicated to an appropriate deity. Those who
work with their gods on a regular basis will find a relationship developing
with which they can enrich their lives. The Norse gods are not myths. They
are living presences who are eager to interact with us, and will eagerly
respond to almost any invitation.

Contributors

KveldúlfR Hagan Gundarsson, "Sacrifice in the Troth" (unpublished
previously).

Diana L. Paxson, "Worshipping the Gods". Idunna, vol 5, #3, Issue 20,
Holymonth 1993 C.E., pp. 4-8).




Chapter XXXII

Writing and Working Rites

Writing Rites

Poetry fulfilled many functions among our spiritual forebears. It told of
heroic deeds, kept our laws, was used in charms, and no doubt formed a part
of religious rites. We can tell as much from the Anglo-Saxon "Æcerbot"
(Storms, Anglo-Saxon Magic, pp. 173 ff.), which fulfills the function of
poetry as much as it does that of a charm. Good-sounding verse within a
ritual not only makes for a rite that is pleasing to the ear, but one that
actually packs power. Our spiritual forebears thought poetry was magical,
and that the better the poetry was, the more power it contained. However,
before you begin writing verses for a rite, you should ask the following
questions: is this right for a High Blessing, and if so, which one? The
poetic symbolism for Yule will differ from that for Midsummer. Is this rite
to be for all the Ases and Wanes, or for a specific god? A blessing for Ing
must be worded differently than one for Frigga or Thor. Is this rite for
yourself or a kindred? Personal rites can afford to be more personal, more
exclusionary. These questions and others have to be answered as you
formulate what you wish to do with a rite. Once you know what you wish to
accomplish, you are ready to compose the rite. It is best when composing
blessings for you to use the outline in A Book of Troth or one of those
given here. Fundamentally the outlines are the same, except for the
insertion of a bede (prayer) following the call. The outline is as follows:

1) Hallowing

2) Reading

3) Rede

4) Call (Halsing)

5) Bede (optional, and not often used at the Heathen Kinship)

6) Loading

7) Drinking

8) Blessing (The Heathen Kinship usually calls for individual blessings)

9) Giving (Yield)

10) Leaving

A slightly different form is given by Gamlinginn's "Nine-Point Blót Plan",
thus:

1. The Gathering

The participants gather and arrange themselves.

2. The Warding

The area is warded (made spiritually safe).

3. The Meaning

An explanation of the purpose of the ceremony is given.

4. The Signaling

A signal is sent to those the ceremony is to honour.

5. The Hallowing

The mead (or other beverage) is made holy.

6. The Blessing

The participants and the altar are sprinkled with mead (or other beverage)

7. The Sharing

Each participant gets a small quantity of mead (or other beverage). Each
swallows a bit and pours the rest into the blótbolli (blessing bowl).

8. The Earthing

The mead in the blótbolli is poured onto the ground.

9. The Closing

The area is desanctified, and the ceremony is ended.

The verses for each step of a blessing must be handled differently, but
first one must know how to compose poetic verse in general. Most Trothers
feel traditional alliterative verse (verse using words whose initial
consonants are the same) written in Germanic metres is best for rites. The
problem with this is that most people are daunted by the difficulty of
composing alliterative verse in the old Germanic metres. They shouldn't be.
When most of us think of alliterative poetry, we think of Beowulf, the
Elder Edda, or skaldic poetry. This brings to mind how scholars state that
such works must have been difficult to compose (though, as seen in
Orkneyinga saga among other sources, there were folk who could make very
good skaldic poetry off the tops of their heads, and it is the most
difficult form - KHG). First off, the men that first sang Beowulf, the
Eddic poems, and so forth were the Lord Byrons and T.S. Eliots of their
time. Naturally, we cannot hope to duplicate their efforts in the old
tongue, much less in the hybrid child of Anglo-Saxon and Latin (that's to
say, English). Second, alliterative verse varied in quality. The
Anglo-Saxon charms are not at all as well-done as the Anglo-Saxon Rune
Poem, which is not as well-done as Beowulf. So when writing verse for
blessings or other rites, you should try as best you can to catch the
flavour of Germanic poetry, while realizing that you can't duplicate the
ancient masterpieces (the Warder of the Lore, who has seen it done - and
not even by a Heathen, but by a christian scholar of Germanic heroic
literature - begs to differ with this. It is my opinion that alliterative
verse which rivals that of our elder kinfolk can be written in Saxon
English - KHG).

The main feature that distinguishes elder Germanic poetry from modern
poetry is the use of alliteration or stave rhyme rather than end rhyme. In
alliterative poetry that stress or emphasis usually falls on words that
alliterate (begin with the same consonant). This is done via the poetic
metre or rhythm. Metre measures the number of stressed and unstressed
syllables of a line of poetry, as well as when and where they appear. The
most basic metre to alliterative Germanic poetry is Old Lore Metre. It is
best known from Beowulf, but was once the standard metre for all
alliterative poems in the Germanic tongues. Old Lore Metre has two
half-lines linked by words that alliterate in each half-line. Each
half-line consists of at least two stressed syllables and a variable number
of unstressed syllables. The last stressed syllable of the last half-line
may not alliterate, in Old Lore Metre or any other.

Old Lore Metre is the easiest of the old metres to use in modern English
(as well as in the elder tongues), and sounds quite dramatic when spoken.
An example in modern English is a translation of the first line of the
rune-verse Daeg (Dagaz) of the Anglo-Saxon Rune Poem. Stressed syllables
are marked by bold type, while the alliterating consonants are underlined.

Day is the drighten's herald dear to man.

As can be seen above, this metre is easy to work with, and can produce
verses with a variety of rhythms (Ruth P.M. Lehmann's translation of
Beowulf , which was done with the intention of following the metre of the
original as closely as possible, offers an excellent example for those
interested in writing their own poetry. See "Hearth Reading List" under
"Book-Hoard" - KHG). Other metres, such as the Eddic ljóðaháttr
("song-metre"), are harder to work with. Ljóðaháttr alternates between two
half-lines and one full line, with stanzas of four half-lines and two full
lines. The half-lines are like those of Old Lore metre, while the full
lines must have three stresses, of which two alliterate. "Hávamál", for the
most part, is written in ljóðaháttr, thus:

"A ring-oath I know Óðinn has sworn,

how shall his troth be trusted?

He swindled Suttungr took symbel from him,

and Gunnlöð was left to greet ('weep')".

Similar to ljóðaháttr was galdralag (enchantment-order), which works in
much the same way as ljóðaháttr, except that it repeats one of the full
lines (sometimes with minor variations) at the end of a stanza. There are
also skaldic metres used by the Norse (either a late development or, as the
archaic vocabulary suggests, possibly survivals of a Heathen ritual
tradition which was lost in English and Continental poetry - KHG), but
these are quite difficult to use (for information, see the "Skáldskaparmál"
and "Hattatal" section of the Prose Edda).

A modern alliterative metre is what I call alliterative free verse. This
metre is used by many Trothers, and is characterized by full lines
containing two to three words that alliterate, but otherwise follow no set
pattern. It is extremely easy to use due to its free form.

What metre one uses is important as the metre determines the rhythm and
feel of the verses. A rhythm that is slow and halting will give a different
feeling from one that flows smoothly. This can be seen by comparing Byron's
"She Walks in Beauty Like the Night" to Poe's "Annabelle Lee". Even if you
did not understand English, you could tell which poet was in love and which
was mourning the loss of someone he loved.

It also helps to build the right imagery in ritual verse. Imagery and
symbolism are as much a part of poetry as metre, and can help a rite
achieve its purpose. In English, as in the other Germanic languages, the
bulk of imagery rests not on adjectives and adverbs, but on nouns and
verbs. For example, consider the following sentences:

"The rain pounded on the sidewalk."

"It rained hard on the sidewalk."

Which sentence produces the image of a sidewalk during a cloudburst? The
first sentence does, as the second lacks the power worthy of a cloudburst,
or even a hard rain. In the same way, "The knight swooned at his Lady's
touch," contains stronger imagery than "The knight felt light-headed at his
Lady's touch". Also a part of imagery are such literary devices as simile,
where one compares two things that have little in common with the word
"like" ("sparkles like sun-beams from her eyes"); metaphor, a phrase that
creates an identity between two different things ("all the world's a
stage"); and puns, plays on words that sound or are spelled alike (mostly
used for jokes now, but some great poets have used puns in deadly earnest -
as for instance when Lady Macbeth, planning to frame Duncan's guards with
the blood from the murdered king's wounds, says, "If he do bleed, I'll gild
the faces of the grooms withal, for it shall seem their guilt"). While such
literary devices are best used sparingly, they can come in handy when
building up imagery.

One device of our spiritual forebears was the practice of using heiti, or
by-names of the gods. Many of these survived in Old Norse, and it is also
believed that a few may have survived even in Anglo-Saxon (albeit adapted
to Christian use). These can be collected from the Eddas and even a few
Anglo-Saxon poems. A few examples in modern English are: Witty Drighten,
Grima ("Masked One"), and Sig-Father ("Victory-Father") for Woden; High
Thunderer or Goat-God for Thor; the World's God for Frey; and Cat-Goddess
for Freya. One can even create new heiti, such as the "Wise Queen" for
Frigga. Similar to heiti are kennings, which are symbolic names for objects
or people, used to create imagery, to avoid naming the subject directly, or
to maintain alliteration. A kenning for the sea, for example, is the "wet
way", while a king might be called "giver of gold". An Anglo-Saxon phrase
from the Nine Herbs Charm which is sometimes thought to be a kenning for
runes is "glory twigs". Many translations of the old poetry contain
kennings in modern English, or you may wish to create your own (for ex.:
"wand of words" for ink-pen). Both kennings and heiti can be used to avoid
excessive repetition of names, to call on different aspects of the deities
you wish to invoke, or to build a unified and possibly quite elaborate set
of images for your rite.

Many also believe that our spiritual forebears differentiated between the
speech of gods and the speech of men. Support for this is found in
Alvíssmál, in which words for different objects are given in the tongues of
various dwellers in the Nine Worlds (gods, etins, alfs, humans, the folk of
Hel-Home, and so forth). Much as we say a word is "poetic", our forebears
might well have said that it was used by the gods. Today this is reflected
by the use of words that are of Germanic descent (see also "Saxon English"
in the Word-Hoard - KHG) in Troth ritual verse. There are several good
reasons for this. For one, words with Old Norse or Anglo-Saxon roots pack
more auditory power: to quote E.B. White, "Anglo-Saxon is a livelier tongue
than Latin". Second, the first words learned by children are of Germanic
descent, and these same words form the 100 most-used words in the language
- so they are the most familiar words to native speakers of English.
Finally, words with Germanic etymologies come from our world-view, and
therefore express our beliefs best. Unfortunately, many good Saxon and
Norse words have fallen out of use completely, or don't readily come to
mind. Fortunately, many, many such words are preserved in the Oxford
English Dictionary. The OED with its mammoth volumes has preserved native
words for honour (ar), altar (weved), victory (sige), and hundreds if not
thousands of others. Many translations of the old lore also use words of
Germanic descent (cf. the famous, or infamous, "Hollanderese" of the
best-known translation of the Poetic Edda! - KHG), as do Tolkien's works.
Many Asatruar keep lists of archaic words for use in poetry, and this is
probably a good idea. After all, if the gods have a poetic language, who's
to say that they don't find Latin crude and vulgar?

Once you have a good idea of how to compose Germanic poetry, you can tackle
writing a blessing. Each part of a blessing has a different aim, and so
each part of a blessing must have verses specially tailored to it. The aim
of hallowing, for instance, is to mark off holy space, ward that space, and
give the blessing a suitable starting point. Therefore, the verses of a
hallowing rite require the invocation of protective powers (such as Thor's
hammer) or warding wights (various gods and spirits as appropriate), while
the actions of a hallowing rite require going to the cardinal points of the
compass, making a protective circle, or saining (tracing) warding signs
(the Hammer, runes, and so forth). Naturally, the verses of a hallowing
rite must be in sympathy with the actions of the rite. You would not invoke
Mjöllnir without saining the Hammer-Sign, for example. Likewise, when
drawing a circle, you may wish to use such phrases as "let this circle ward
us as Asgard wards the gods". Since part of a hallowing rite's function is
to ward the holy site, it may need to be repetitive if going to the
cardinal points (like Thorsson's Hammer Rite from FUTHARK, for example), or
have verses that are "flowing" if drawing a circle. However, often the best
hallowing rites are simple, like the Hammer Rite (note: hallowing rites
that tend towards the lengthy, such as a full runic circle - especially if
the folk there are not magicians or intense mystics - risk losing the
interest of the celebrants and thus lowering, rather than raising, the
energy level - KHG).

The reading section of a blessing should be chosen from a part of the old
lore (the Eddas, sagas, etc.) that is consistent with the blessing's aims
(again, try not to choose passages that are too lengthy. Full Eddic poems
are too long for most people to sit through, especially if the reader has
difficulty pronouncing Old Norse names - KHG). And the rede should be
composed to tie the reading into the blessing, as well as to state the
reason(s) for and aim(s) of the rite (for ex.: "We are gathered together
for Midsummer"). The rede can easily be the most poetic part of the
blessing, as part of its aim is to ensure that those gathered are in a
ritual mindset.

The next part of a blessing, the call or halsing, should sound like an
invocation, for that is what it truly is. Each deity being fained should be
called by name, a heiti, and a known deed or attribute from mythology: (as:
"Thunor, Goat-God, he that slew Þrymr") and a simple phrase like "we call
thee" or "be with us here". The opening lines of the call can be a general
hailing of the gods, as: "Gods of our forebears, fare here from afar".
Overall, the call should be simple, majestic, and to the point.

The bede or prayer should be extemporized, though it should consist of
heiti or other formulaic elements in its recitation (traditional poetry
could be spontaneously composed swiftly and well precisely because a poet
knew a great many such formulas which could be plugged into the appropriate
place - KHG). In the bede, thanks may be given to the gods, requests made,
praise given. Above all else, it should come from the heart, and be
spontaneous.

The next part of a blessing - the loading - can, like the rede, afford to
be a poetic tour de force with its ultimate aim being the "loading" of
might into the gift being given. The verses of the loading should serve to
funnel hamingja into the gift, while stating what the gift represents (for
ex: "the might and main of those gathered here"). Naturally, the verses of
the loading should have a quality of power about them, and therefore should
use any and all poetic devices (heiti, kennings, mythic references)
available towards achieving that feel of power being loaded into the gift.

The drinking or housel, on the other hand, should be silent: no words need
be said. As for the act of blessing itself, it can be a simple, "the
blessings and bliss of the gods be on you," as each person is sprinkled.
The next part of the blessing rite, the giving or yield, may be simple or
complex depending on personal taste. Often, however, a simple "we give this
gift to thee" will do. The leaving, too, depends on personal choice. A
formula like, "This work is wrought, now let us leave in frith and free
right. Let the blessings of the Ases, Wanes, and wights of this world be
upon us" works well, though you may choose to have a simpler or more
complex one.

Once you have composed the verbal parts of a blessing, other elements may
be added such as a procession prior to the blessing complete with drumming
(though I prefer silence), seating, and so forth. The decor of the grove or
hall should be geared towards the season of the blessing and the gods being
fained. Lighting should also be taken into consideration (especially if the
rite is going to be read, rather than memorized). Natural lighting (sun,
moon, stars) works well, as do candles, torches, and bonfires. Electric
light, if toned down with a dimmer switch, can also add to a rite. The
godhi or gydhja and their helpers should also plan what actions will be
performed during the blessing. The elhaz position (feet together, hands
raised upward and slightly spread - standard Ásatrú "prayer-stance") should
be assumed by the reader during the rede, call, and loading (if
earth-mights are being called on, the root-elhaz position - feet
shoulder-width apart, hands by side - or full tree-stance, feet spread and
hands raised as for elhaz, may be preferred - KHG). The Hammer-sign should
be sained over the gift during the drinking (regardless of the god/esses
being called on, as the Hammer is the general sign of hallowing - KHG).
Some groups have their members assume the sowilo-stance (see FUTHARK)
whenever the speaker assumes the elhaz position. These and movements about
the hall, such as during the drinking, must be taken into consideration.
Failure to do so can result in the performers of the blessing bumping into
each other and creating other disruptive mishaps.

Techniques similar to the ones given here may be used in composing lesser
rites such as tree-gifts, land-wight yields, and daily rites. Sumble, on
the other hand, must be treated differently due to its set order of
elements, and is spoken of elsewhere.

Working Rites

In order to work a rite and work it well, you must understand how the rite
works and what it means to accomplish. There is no need even to undertake a
rite if its aim is not known. Fortunately, most religious rites in the
Troth work on an exchange of main between gods and men, and this is also
their usual aim. However, it is also necessary that you have the proper
mindset and be able to project that mindset during a rite for it to be
effective. There are four tools that you can use to accomplish this: 1)
self-control; 2) visualization/perception; 3) vocalization; 4) personal
movements.

When talking about magical rites, control of one's emotions and will are
often brought up, but alas, with religious rites this is not the case. Yet
self-control is as necessary for religious workings as for magical ones.
You must approach the gods, forebears, wights, dwarves, elves, dises, and
so forth with certain attitudes. To seem distracted, detached, or otherwise
preoccupied when approaching hallowed wights is as rude as to do so when
visiting mortal friends. Therefore you should feel real love and affection
or have a sense of awe when yielding to the gods or doing similar rites.
Likewise, you should focus all your mental energy on the rite at hand,
whether it be a Great Blessing or a simple prayer. It is important that
this "focusing" not be mistaken for concentration. Concentration implies a
narrowing of awareness to do intellectual activity. Rather this "focusing"
is an outpouring of spiritual power (in the form of affection) towards the
gods. This should be reflected in all aspects of a rite to the gods, esp.
blessings, and requires that you stay clear of unbelief, wandering
thoughts, and emotional disturbances.

Part of self-control, and needful to proper mindset, is the use of
visualization, or rather perception. Many works on Troth magic and
religious practices emphasize visualization as necessary to working rites.
The problem with this is that visualization implies imagining something
that is not there. This can lead to self-delusion and empty rites. Rather,
what one seeks is perception of what is there. We know our gods, main, and
other wights exist, so why not try to see them when they are present. This
requires we develop second sight or the sixth sense, but it makes more
sense than pretending something's there when, indeed, it is not (note: in
magic, visualization actually focuses the worker's might to create the
reality of whatever is imaged, which depends chiefly on the worker's will.
This is not the desired result in religion, where the consenting presence
and friendship of existing Beings is the goal of the working - KHG).
Developing such a heightened form of awareness is not easy and requires
that you not rely so much on your physical senses. Perhaps the best you can
to is try to be aware of spiritual activity, and watch for signs of its
manifestation (shadows, changes in light level, cold and warm spots, and so
forth). Once you learn to spot such activity, your field of perception will
gradually increase with time and practice.

Vocalization forms the core of many rites, and also shapes the route the
rite will take. Many good pieces have been written on the singing of
galdors, and the importance of singing should not be underestimated, but
another type of vocalization (one which those with poor singing voices may
use), has been ignored. Poetic performance of ritual verse may be as
important as singing those verses. Many scholars believe that our spiritual
forebears may have "performed" their heroic poems much like the art of
poetic reading (also called oral interpretation, or dramatic reading. The
scholar and performer of poetry Dwight Conquergood holds the view that
heroic lays were related to heroic boasting, and has said, "It is
reasonable to claim their performances were vigorous and highly
theatrical". He points to several phrases and words that emphasize a scop'd
performance in an Exeter Book riddle and Beowulf (for ex.: the speaker
cries out hlude, "loudly"; he may also styrman, "storm, shout, or rage").
If the scop was a dramatic performer, and not just a singer of songs, then
one can assume that ritual verse may have been handled similarly. Theories
about the use of emotional arousal or play-acting in the rites of some
societies may also point to the idea that ritual verse may be performed
instead of sung. Some scholars have noted that shamans often assume the
appropriate emotions and mindset for their rites (hate for curses, love for
fertility charms, and so forth), and manifest these emotions in their
voices and actions or mock actions. This opens an important avenue in
ritual vocalization for those that cannot sing, and gives them a form as
effective as singing, if not more so. By vocalizing the verse of a rite as
if it were Shakespeare, the true beauty of a rite may come out. This means,
of course, taking advantage of the natural rhythm of verse, rises and falls
in volume, dramatic pauses, and whatever else may show the gods our sense
of awe and affection for them. It also means using breath control,
memorization (memorized rituals are much more effective, dramatically and
spiritually, than those that are read - KHG), and training one's voice. A
study of poetic performance can help one use such vocalization to its
fullest potential.

Tied to vocalization are the physical actions of the performer of the rite.
Usually in blessings, these movements are limited to saining the
Hammer-sign, assuming the elhaz stance, and sprinkling the participants.
These movements should be executed smoothly and gracefully, unless the rite
calls for vigorous action. The elhaz stance is best assumed quickly for
dramatic effect. Other movements may be added to a rite as needed to
enhance its effectiveness. In blessings, the blessing bowl may be raised to
the sky before giving it to the gods. Participants may assume the sowilo
stance with the slight modification of holding the arms flat, palms against
each other, with upper arms resting on the chest. It is vital, however,
that every movement be consistent with the rite and the lore.

There are many other aspects of working rites, and most of these are best
learned from experience. Rites shouldn't be overly long, nor should they be
done too fast. A lot of pageantry often takes away from the true meaning of
the rite, while a lack of pageantry often leaves something to be desired.
Most important, though, is that rites be performed with love and respect
for the gods. Any time such love and respect is lost, rites will seem
poorly done.

Written by:

Swain Wodening, Elder-in-training

Gamlinginn, Elder (9-pt. Blót-plan)




Chapter XXXIII

Ritual, Religion, and Theatre

Ritual, religion, and theatre are three functions which have been
intertwined since the beginning of human society. Ritual is a form of magic
in that it helps focus the imagination, and imagination is the very nuts
and bolts of magical work. Ritual is also linked to religion because it
gives the opportunity to express in a solid, physical way the numinous joy
and spiritual power one feels at times, especially during important life
events or at certain seasons of the year. As for theatre, the peforming
arts originated in ritual and have always been deeply tied to religion,
either as an important and respected part of a culture's spiritual life or
as a disturbing and forbidden threat to a society's moral fabric. Both
views, however, recognise the primal quality and power of this most
volatile art.

Aside from its uses as a tool in religion ritual, there is a magical
quality in the actual process of acting and performance that is very
similar to many magical and spiritual workings. Theatre can let us
experience the forms of the imagination here in the present in a way that
artwork or written literature can't. David Cole likens the world of the
play to the primitive concept of the "time of origins", the "dream-time",
and compares acting both to shamanism and the experience of spiritual
possession. The actor makes a journey into the worlds of the imagination,
an inner journey into her own psyche to find those aspects which correspond
to the people and actions of the play. Then there comes a point in the
acting process when a reversal takes place, and the images the actor has
journeyed so far to find come rushing back upon her, using her body to
become present to the audience. The actor experiences a state of double
consciousness, in which she is fully the character she has discovered, but
at the same time is also herself, watching the performance as a removed
spectator.

This state of double being, of acting and watching oneself act, is
strangely similar to the feeling one sometimes gets in deep meditation,
when the realization occurs that one's thoughts are being observed by
another, deeper Self. When an actor is truly committed, he is totally in
the present, acting and feeling a truthful flow of emotions and impulses on
a moment-to-moment basis and expressing them freely. The only way to reach
those peak moments is to fully and deeply experience each small action
leading up to the climax, which then unfolds of its own accord, sometimes
touching depths of one's unconscious to cause both fear and joy.

Theatre, like ritual, involves direct, personal contact with the audience;
in fact, without the audience, the act of creation in the theatre is
incomplete. The reaction of the audience is a part of the creative act, for
the audience also contributes energy to the performance and helps shape it
into its final form. Similarly, the goal of ritual is to stir and shape the
thoughts and emotions of the participants to achieve a desired goal, either
celebratory or magical. Thus, a ritual practitioner must first be able to
control and shape her own emotions and imagination, and then to similarly
inspire and guide the responses of others. Even in a solitary ritual, one
is joined by an "audience" comprised of the Gods, Goddesses, and other
entities one has summoned.

In modern Ásatrú, much emphasis has been placed on historical and
archæological research, in an effort to recreate our traditions as
accurately as possible. While this is commendable and necessary, it is
equally important to be able to use this information as skillfully and
effectively as possible. Training in acting will help you translate our
past traditions into living, meaningful rituals for the present. Training,
technique, and practice will also relieve your body and mind of mundane
worries like how to speak and where to move next and what to do with your
hands, and free you to fully experience the numinous sensations of a
spiritual event.

A teacher of mine once said that if an actor accomplished nothing more than
to be seen and heard, he was already ahead of 90% of the rest of his
profession, and the same could probably be said of most ritual workers.
Since one of the goals of a ritual is to stir the thoughts and emotions of
all the participants, those people obviously must be able to observe all
that happens if they are to be so stimulated. Unless you are doing a solo
ritual, you will need to make some effort to speak loudly and clearly
enough to be heard by the others. Even small rituals require some attention
to this, not only because modern speech habits tend not to emphasize good
diction, but also because ritual speech is different from our everyday
speech and therefore harder for people to comprehend. The larger the number
of people in the ritual, the more technique is required to project the full
intensity of the experience to everyone.

Any basic book or course on speech will teach you the fundamentals you need
to know. One key point is to remember to breathe from the diaphragm, a
muscle located in the region of the floating ribs. People sometimes advise
you to "stick your stomach out" when you breathe, but this doesn't
accurately describe the movement of the diaphragm. I find it better to
concentrate more on the lower ribs expanding out all the way around the
ribcage to the back and to keep the buttocks tight. The ribs then remain
slightly expanded while the diaphragm muscles press in and up as the air is
released during song or speech. This is a very athletic process when done
correctly, and you can easily pull a rib muscle unless you practise
breathing exercises regularly and "warm up" just before a ritual begins.
Diaphragmatic breathing not only supports your voice with more air than
shallow chest breathing, it has the added benefit of removing tension from
the neck and jaw, tension which could otherwise strain your vocal cords and
make your voice thin and tight.

By using supported breathing, one can increase volume without trying to
"force" louder sounds out from the throat, which is potentially harmful to
the voice and cannot be sustained (as you have no doubt discovered yelling
at football games or rock concerts). Besides the physical aspect of voice
control, however, there are mental tricks that improve your voice for no
apparent logical reason. For example, one exercise is to imagine you are
projecting your voice to different places as you speak: to a person right
in front of you, to a space ten feet away, to the very back of a large
hall. Oddly enough, just visualizing your audience being farther away can
increase the volume of your voice. Another exercise is to visualize
yourself "speaking" from different parts of your body - your head, your
torso, your pelvic area, etc. You will find that the quality of your voice
changes subtly. By the same token, visualizing yourself speaking and
breathing from your diaphragm lets you reach down into your center for that
voice, and that voice will be a fuller and freer one.

The concept of being seen in a ritual involves both how you move and where
and when you move. People watching a ritual need to see what is most
important to see at any given time. On the most basic level, it is usually
good for the audience to be able to see the person who is speaking or who
should be the focus of the action. Again, the more people you have in a
ritual, the more technique is required. Even in a ritual of only two or
three, you need to know who moves when, and where, and if anyone needs to
get out of their way when they do move. Some feel that "choreographing" a
ritual removes its spontaneity and thus some of its spiritual integrity,
but there is not much spirituality in having people milling about and
running into each other.

Besides knowing the basic blueprint of movement, each performer needs to
have mastery over the quality of her movement - it should be controlled,
graceful, pleasing to look at, and appropriate for the role that person has
taken on. First of all, the body should be kept in good condition - good
diet, enough sleep, and regular exercise. In addition, activities that
improve posture, grace, rhythm, and limberness can be useful in training
the body for ritual and theatre. Some examples include dancing, gymnastics,
fencing, yoga, and many martial arts.

As with vocal practice, the goal in training the body is to eliminate
unwanted muscular tension, which not only mars the image presented to the
onlookers, but inhibits the free flow of emotions and energy during the
ritual. An actor or ritual performer should be able to get his body to do
what he wishes it to do, and not to do anything without his conscious
intent. Basic relaxation exercises before a ritual will help. One of the
most common and useful practices is to begin with the face and head and
work down to the feet, consciously tensing and relaxing each separate part
of the body. Other limbering exercises, such as yoga, tai chi, or even the
warm-up exercises used before jogging or other athletic pursuits, are also
useful. Whatever other work you do, remember that your voice and body need
to be warmed up a bit before embarking on something as demanding as a
ritual, so try to do at least a little breathing and vocalization and some
limbering exercises before beginning a performance.

In addition to physical technique, there are mental disciplines necessary
for acting which help you learn to think and concentrate in a special way.
Many of these practices are also useful in ritual and magic. Most modern
techniques of acting, and there are many of them, have some relationship to
the technique of Stanislavsky, whether their inventors admit it or not.
Konstantin Stanislavsky was a Russian who co-founded the Moscow Art Theatre
in 1898 and developed what came to be known as "the Method" in reaction to
the clichés and overacting typical of the theatre of his time. His goal was
nothing less than giving the actor conscious control of her inspiration and
creativity.

The key to this method is the use of physical actions. You cannot control
your feelings, but you can control your actions. If you fully and sincerely
put your attention on each individual action you perform in a play or a
ritual, the emotions, true and real emotions, will happen. You may have
noticed that if you shout and stomp and wave your arms around, you can
actually make yourself feel angry. Similarly, you can make yourself feel
happy if you laugh, dance, or hug people, and sad if you mope around
brooding.

Action in the context of acting includes not only superficial movement, but
also the emotional conflict in the play, the goals, and intentions of the
characters. Each sentence and movement is done for a reason, people in
plays never just "talk". They all want things, want them intensely, are
willing to go to great lengths to get them. If a boy says "good morning" to
his girl, he may be blaming her, seducing her, interrogating her,
apologizing to her, or some other strong "action"; he is never just making
conversation.

Every action in a play is reciprocated - one person acts, the other people
react to what he has done and then act themselves. Each small movement or
line has a small action or intention; the sum of these becomes the
intention for a section, then a scene, then an act, until eventually there
evolves a goal that covers the whole play. When one person's goals are
blocked by another person's goals, conflict arises, and the action is
shaped by the various attempts to "win". These objectives build to a
climax, which eventually resolves itself in either union or further
division, or else it is interrupted by some outside event (Francis Hodge,
Play Directing: Analysis, Communication, and Style, p.36).

In addition to having clear intentions and pursuing them with full
commitment, you must also be aware of the other people onstage. You must
make sure that they really hear you and that you hear them, that you truly
communicate with one another. Try to avoid mechanically repeating your
lines and actions according to some prearranged plan you developed in
rehearsal; rather, take in what your fellow performers give to you and let
it affect you and your subsequent actions. For example, if your character
very much wanted to pick up a jewel and take it away, and another character
pulled a gun on you, you wouldn't just doggedly go ahead with your original
intention (well, you could, but the play would be quickly over). In real
life, most people would take the gun into account and change their tactics,
perhaps try to trick or wheedle the other person into letting them have
what they wanted.

To give an example that could be part of a mythical drama, in the story of
the mead-theft, Odin's overall goal is to bring back the magic mead of
poetry to Asgard. On his way, he tricks the serfs into killing themselves
with the intention of ingratiating himself to the giant Baugi, he pressures
Baugi to beg the mead from his brother Suttung, he then coerces Baugi into
helping him break into the mountain where the mead is kept, and he seduces
the giantess Gunnlod so she'll let him have the mead. All these small
objectives are fueled by the overall goal of getting the mead. Perhaps Odin
falls a little bit in love with Gunnlod, but he leaves her anyway to get
the mead - that's an inner conflict between his desire for her and his
desire for the mead. Note how much more interesting that scenario is than
if Odin doesn't give a rap about Gunnlod. The richer and more complex you
make your goals, the more conflict, and hence the more emotion and energy
you'll have. And always make your goals the most important they can be. You
don't just sort of want that mead, you desire it more than anything else in
the world.

This may all sound too analytical and complicated, but if you can figure
out exactly what your character is doing, what she wants at every point in
the play, if you pursue these intentions strongly and fully, and if you
also let yourself be truly receptive to the actions of all the other
characters and let these affect how you pursue your goals, you will not
worry about whether you look silly or how to hold your hands or if you will
sound angry enough during your next big speech - you will begin to think
and feel like this other person you're playing and something real will
happen onstage.

All this takes a tremendous amount of concentration. You need to
concentrate on the objects and people onstage without being distracted. You
must use your imagination to see and hear things as your character would.
You must constantly be thinking what your character would be thinking,
reacting as he would react to each word and event, redefining your goals at
each step, for the entire time you're onstage, whether you're speaking or
not. This makes visualizing a red triangle on a white background seem
simple. But this is the same quality of attention required by ritual - that
you should fully concentrate on each small act, recognise its significance,
and react to what others say and do for the entirety of the rite.

This concentration of attention does not mean that you lose yourself in
your character and forget that the audience is there. On the contrary, the
audience is an important part of the play, and the energy they feed back to
you further fuels your performance. Acting involves a curious form of split
consciousness in which you are not only thinking and reacting as your
character would, but are also constantly watching yourself on stage and
being aware of the response of the audience, using it to monitor the
effectiveness of your performance and modify it if necessary.

Each character, then, is the sum of her actions, and her essence should be
gradually revealed during the play. When trying to analyze a character in a
play or myth, you should try to discover what she wants most, how strongly
she acts in attaining that desire, and how honest and moral she is in
pursuing it. You should know how she feels about everything and everybody
in the play. You can look for clues in how the author describes the
character, what other people in the play say about the character, what the
character says about herself, and especially, the character's own actions
(Hodge, Play Directing, p. 44). You need to draw on your own feelings and
experiences to play a part, but you must try not to make all characters a
copy of yourself. Rather, you should strive for a combination of the
character's personality and your own.

In creating and revealing a character, you might try using other people
you've known or seen as images; often it's very effective to combine traits
from several people in one character. It is also useful to imagine your
character in different situations which do not occur in the play - what
would he order at a restaurant, how would he react to a threat or a
seduction, how would he relate to other specific characters? You need to
know everything about your character's past, present, and future, whether
presented in the action of the play or not.

Another exercise is to use animal imagery to create a character. Observe
the real animal, in nature or in the zoo, and then try to mimic its
movements and sounds. Eventually you will tone down this realistic
imitation and "humanize" the animal qualities into a few physical or vocal
traits that give your character the overall quality of the original animal.
It is particularly interesting to try this with the various animals
associated with different Gods and Goddesses - for example, Odin as a wolf
or Freyja as a cat.

If you're not doing a ritual drama or embodying God-forms in your rite, you
may feel you don't need to do any characterization. But in almost any
ritual, you are not being your normal, everyday self; rather, you take on a
ritual persona, allowing yourself to become your best and true self, full
of confidence and power. For certain types of ritual, you may even wish to
take on a specialized magical persona, embodying certain traits which you
wish to emphasize for a particular working (Gundarsson, Kveldulf. Teutonic
Magic, pp. 181-82). For either type of persona, the same techniques you use
to create a character in a play can help you clarify and strengthen the
self you want to be in ritual.

If you want to learn to act, or rather to act better, the easiest way is to
take an acting class or two. Most community colleges, universities, and
many theatres offer acting classes for beginners or for the general public.
I suggest a class rather than school or community theatre productions
because, although the latter offer a good way to gain experience once you
learn some technique, the directors are often more focused on getting their
shows off the ground than on your personal development as an actor. Try
more than one class or director, as there are many useful acting techniques
and it helps to know a variety of them, each one being useful in different
situations.

Above all, stay away from people who seem to be trying to control or
manipulate you or play games with your head. Because acting deals with
opening yourself up emotionally, actors can be very vulnerable, especially
when first learning and experimenting. Although acting can involve
exploring different aspects of your personality and using emotional
experiences from your past, no one has the right to invade your privacy or
use your emotions against you, or to verbally abuse you in an alleged
attempt to get you to achieve a certain result. For example, a teacher
could justifiably ask you to think of an event in your past that made you
sad or angry, but she doesn't have the right to make you tell her what it
was. Acting can be therapeutic, but it is not therapy. Look for classes
that offer good physical training and acting exercises embodying the basics
already discussed - and, above all, classes where the actors emerge feeling
happier and more powerful than when they started. You can also explore
classes in speech, voice, dancing, or other physical arts.

In addition, there are many exercises you can practice on your own. Many of
them may seem like the kind of games you played as a child, and this is
true - games of make-believe are the foundations of acting; they don't call
them "plays" for nothing. If you can recall the kind of freedom,
commitment, imagination, and creativity you used as a child playing, you
will have come a long way to becoming a good actor. So here are some
suggestions for acting games; you can make up your own when you get the
hang of it. Most of these exercises are derived from Stanislavsky's work;
more examples can be found in Sonia Moore (The Stanislavski System: The
Professional Training of an Actor - digested from the teachings of
Konstantin S. Stanislavski).

1) Explore physical actions. Sit, stand, walk as if a certain situation
existed.

a) Clear off a table in order to make people feel sorry for you.

b) Clear off a table while surreptitiously searching for a valuable object
which might be there.

c) Sit in order to show off your body to a desired partner.

d) Sit so as not to attract attention to yourself.

2) What would I do if I were...?

a) You are a student; you've awakened after pulling an all-nighter, and
can't find the paper you finished before going to bed.

b) You are Thor, and have awakened to find your Hammer is gone.

c) You are Sif, and have awakened to find your hair has been cut off.

3) Let the outer physical circumstances affect your actions:

a) Pack to go off to a festival.

b) Pack after spending the day at the beach.

c) Pack expensive costumes to send back to the rental shop.

4) Imagination:

a) Eat a chicken leg as if you were Thor; then as if you were Freyja; then
as if you were Loki.

b) In your mind, imagine going from the store to your home; imagine being
at home putting away your groceries; gradually you should move from being
the observer to being the "you" doing the actions.

c) Think of a God or Goddess; try to see what their hall looks like - size,
materials, decor, what he or she serves to eat there, what he or she does
for fun, who comes to visit, etc.

d) Imagine you are a character in one of the myths; see yourself going
through all the actions of the story in the greatest possible detail.

5) Concentration and Attention:

a) Place your attention within a small circle around you, on yourself and
immediate objects; then within a medium circle, including several people
and groups of furniture or objects; finally within a large circle,
encompassing everything within your hearing or field of vision (if your
attention wanders, return it to one single object to regain your
concentration.

b) Examine a nearby object carefully; then look away, and tell what you
remember.

c) Listen to the sounds around you, then describe what you heard.

d) Look at a collection of objects or a landscape for a specified time,
then go away and describe them (Note: The last three exercises are
variations of "Kim's game", which appears in Rudyard Kipling's novel Kim;
many magical systems use similar exercises).

6) Belief:

a) Treat a liquid as if it were clear spring water; salty ice rime; sweet
mead; hot tea.

b) Holding a sword, approach your bitterest foe; your son, to whom you're
giving it; a retainer, who is going to swear an oath on it; a vicious wolf.

7) Say the following lines with a partner:

A: Hi.

B: Hi.

A: Been here long?

B: Long enough.

A: I was wondering.

B: Oh?

A: Are you staying?

B: I don't know.

A: I think you should.

B: I'll think about it.

As you say the lines, imagine yourselves in different situations, which
will change the way you say them:

a) "A" is trying to seduce "B".

b) "A" is a parent and "B" is a teenager who's come home very late.

c) "B" is blackmailing "A".

d) "A" is a teacher and "B" is a problem student.

The same sort of exercises can be done with any non-specific conversation.
You can also try saying the lines of a play, saga, or myth as if different
situations existed.

8) Sense and Emotional Memory:

Sense memory is the practice of recreating in your imagination, as fully
and accurately as possible, things you have experienced with your senses.

a) Imagine you are at the beach: see the sun on the water, hear the waves
and the gulls, smell the salt air, feel the sun on your back and the sand
underneath you.

Emotional memory is based on the peculiar fact that if you use sense memory
to relive some highly emotional experience, you will re-experience the
emotions you felt then. A very imaginative person can even make himself
feel emotions by reliving an imaginary incident he never actually
experienced (sound weird? ever cry over a movie or a book? it does work).

b) Pick an emotional experience from your past (but not one so traumatic
and deeply buried that you'll require a therapist to get you through it).
Start fairly early in the experience, before the important events take
place. Try to visualize all the sights, sounds, smells, etc., as vividly as
possible as you proceed through the actions in your mind. By the time you
get to the climax, you should be feeling some of the same emotions you felt
in the past. If you don't, don't be concerned; just try another incident.
Again, the goal here is not to force yourself to deal with forgotten past
experiences; it's to find those experiences which you can use to stimulate
your emotional responses. Any event that does that, even if it's small and
stupid ( my personal favourite for grief is the time I broke my very
favourite water-gun) is valid. In fact, it's better to use smaller events,
because you can control the emotional responses more easily and not get
lost in your own angst.

Besides using acting techniques to improve your personal performance of
rituals and magic, you can also use drama effectively in group rituals.
Ritual drama can greatly enhance seasonal festivals, initiation rites,
rites of passage, and other important or festive occasions. It can be used
to enliven study group sessions and large festival gatherings. Such dramas
can be based on myths, sagas, and folktales; they can be either adaptations
or actual exerts from old texts. You can also create your own dramas,
based on seasonal activities or important life-events such as birth,
marriage, or death. Many traditional seasonal festivals probably included
drama, most notably Easter and Yule. Your dramas can be performed as part
of the actual ritual, or afterwards during a sumble or feast.

You can also perform non-ritual drama which is thematically appropriate to
a particular event or which represents northern European culture, or just
because it's a play you all like. Any drama has a certain ritual quality,
and theatre helps lend a festive atmosphere to a gathering. Shakespeare is
a good example of secular drama which might enhance a festival.

Whether doing a ritual or a secular drama, you need to do a certain amount
of preparation. You should all read through the piece and discuss theme and
meaning. The piece should be cast based on the skill of the performers,
their appropriateness for their parts, and their reliability (that is, will
they learn their lines, show up for rehearsal, etc.). You should not cast a
person solely because he is a high-ranking member of your tradition or the
gythja's latest lover. It's probably a good idea to have one person act as
"director" for any given drama, in order to have some sort of unity and
coherent vision, and so that someone can make a decision in case of
stalemate. The function of director can be passed around to all interested
and capable members of the group, both to allow you to enjoy many different
styles and ideas and to keep anyone from getting delusions of grandeur.

Other things to discuss in the beginning are the outer trappings - any type
of scenery, costumes, props, music, etc. You need to decide on what kind of
look you want, or are capable of producing; decide what things you need;
and assign people to procure or make these things well in advance. After
the preliminaries are over, you need at least some rehearsal. Many
ritualists, and even some actors, feel too much rehearsal will blunt their
creative spontaneity, but this is only true if you rehearse by rote rather
than by recreating your character's life each time you go onstage. What
rehearsal will do is eliminate the "spontaneity" of people wandering
aimlessly around, looking at each other in panic because they're hoping
that someone remembers what comes next, or dropping character entirely
while they look heavenwards hoping to find their next line. Real
spontaneity comes from everyone knowing what they're saying and doing so
fully that they can be free to really feel and express the emotions and
energy that are created by the performance.

Most theatrical productions rehearse at least four weeks, five days a week.
You might not be willing to put in that much time to do a small ritual
drama, but you should try to have at least a half-dozen or so rehearsals,
and at least one "dress rehearsal" where everyone knows all their lines and
uses all the costumes and props. This is to prevent you from discovering in
performance that you have nowhere to put your sword after you're done with
it, or that your lovely cape keeps tripping your leading lady.

Rituals are sensory experiences and can be enhanced with appropriate
costumes, decorations, symbolic objects, music and sound effects, smells,
and tastes. Colours have traditional or symbolic values in most cultures,
and have been shown to alter moods. All the choices you make on externals
will have an effect on the overall impact of your ritual. Songs and dances
are also effective in appropriate rites. When doing large ritual dramas, it
is often beneficial to include the non-active participants as a "crowd of
extras". For example, if you were doing the story of the theft of Idun, all
the onlookers could become the Gods and Goddesses of Asgard watching Loki
fleeing the giant Thjassi and cheering him on. It's even more important to
involve the audience in a ritual than in a theatrical performance, since in
ritual everyone there is a participant of sorts.

Theatre is a unique and powerful art. The true practice of it sharpens the
mind and the will, taps deep emotional resources, and explores the
imagination. Theatre incorporates almost all of the other arts. It is
unique in that it allows the audience to take part in the creation process.
It preserves the playful spirit of childhood. It can make people both think
and feel. Because of its power to make people experience other worlds and
their own depths, it has been both exalted and forbidden throughout the
ages. But no matter how often it has been suppressed, it has survived,
because its magic fills a deep need in the human soul.

Annotated Bibliography

Fundamentals:

Barken, Sarah. The Alexander Technique: the Revolutionary Way to Use Your
Body for Total Energy (New York: Bantam, 1978). This movement technique,
which was all the rage in the 1970s, emphasizes posture, and its goal is
moving the body with optimum balance and coordination so that minimum
effort is used. This little book is very simple, giving a few very basic
movements which one practices until one does them with perfect posture and
with perfect ease.

Berry, Cicely. Voice and the Actor, 1st American ed. (New York: Macmillan,
1974). This very basic book on vocal training is a good example of the
sorts of things one should be working on to strengthen and train the voice
for ritual or theatrical performance. It includes exercises which one can
work through on one's own, as well as practice texts and illustrations, and
emphasizes freeing the person's natural voice rather than trying to create
an artificial "artistic" voice.

History

Barber, C.L. Shakespeare's Festive Comedy: A Study of Dramatic Form and its
Relation to Social Custom (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1959).
This work explores the origins of theatre in ancient holiday festivals,
particularly emphasizing English folk customs and how they were reflected
in Shakespeare. It is important to realize how these folk symbols, which
are reflections of even older Heathen ones, continued to appear in masque
and theatre after the North was christianized, and still remain a part of
theatre even today. It's also good to remember that before Cromwell and the
Puritans "stuffied" it up, England had a reputation in Europe of being
"merrie".

Brockett, Oscar G. History of the Theatre (Boston: Allyn and Bacon, 1968).
This is an example of a basic history of the theatre, such as one might
read in a college theatre appreciation course. It shows how theatre and
religion have been closely linked since the beginning of human cultural
development, and also demonstrates the different styles of theatre that
have appeared in various times since then.

Philpotts, Bertha S. The Elder Edda and Ancient Scandinavian Drama
(Cambridge: the University Press, 1920). Any true Heathen studying theatre
should read one of the few works that directly explores theatre in the
culture of the pre-christian Norse, as this one does. Philpotts explores
the possible use of the Eddic poems as ritual dramas, and her examples,
whether or not historically true, provide good ideas to anyone interested
in using drama in Norse rituals.

Shakespeare, William. Read anything by him, because they're very good
plays, they're very good poetry, and because they have bits of Heathen
folklore running all through them. And don't let any stuffy English classes
you may have had put you off; the only trick to Shakespeare is
understanding what some of the archaic words mean, and a good footnoted
text, like the Penguin collected works, will give you all you need (it's
much easier than scholarly German!). And if you're really devoted, pick up
a copy of Eric Partridge's Shakespeare's Bawdy (New York: Dutton, 1969) and
be able to understand all of Shakespeare's dirty jokes.

Southern, Richard. The Seven Ages of the Theatre (New York: Hill and Wang,
1963). This is another work on theatre history which traces its connections
to ancient rituals and dances. It paints the history of theatre as a series
of broad stages of development, each with its own customs and ideals.

Acting

Cole, David. The Theatrical Event: A Mythos, a Vocabulary, a Perspective
(Middletown: Wesleyan University Press, 1975). This is a really exciting
and unique work which explores the true functions of theatre and its
kinship to ritual. Cole also draws comparisons between acting and both
shamanism and possession behavior.

Hodge, Francis. Play Directing: Analysis, Communication, and Style
(Englewood Cliffs: Prentice-Hall, 1971). Anyone who plans and carries out a
ritual is a director, and should probably learn something about what that
entails. This work deals first and foremost with how to analyze a dramatic
work, but also deals with practical issues like designing scenery,
costumes, and special effects. It also has a section on communicating with
actors, the benefit of which will be apparent to anyone who has ever tried
to work with other people to perform a ritual.

Morris, Eric, Acting from the Ultimate Consciousness: A Dynamic Exploration
of the Actor's Inner Resources (New York: Putnam, 1988). This is a sample
of one of the more recent texts on acting. Morris' technique is based on
Stanislavsky and mixed with psychotherapy, pragmatism, and magic. This
particular work emphasizes what consciousness is and how to enhance it, and
explores methods of reaching and communicating with the state where all
creativity lies, which Morris calls the ultimate unconscious. More basic
techniques are explored in Morris' other books, No Acting Please, Being &
Doing, and Irreverent Acting.

Shurtleff, Michael: Audition: Everything an Actor Needs to Know to Get the
Part (New York: Bantam, 1980). Although on the surface this is a very
practical book geared towards people interested in being professional
actors, it also includes many basic acting techniques presented in a
particularly clear and no-nonsense manner. It also gives a little taste of
what the world of theatre is like.

Stanislavsky, Konstantin (1863-1938). If you dabble in acting at all, you
will hear this name mentioned, as he was one of the most influential people
in modern acting. Despite the fact that bad actors have misunderstood and
misused "the Method", these techniques are usually at the heart of almost
every school of acting today. These are just a few books dealing with his
philosophies and methods:

Boleslavsky, Richard. Acting, The First Six Lessons (New York:

Theatre Arts Books, 1949). This work portrays the essence of

acting through charming dialogues between a jaded director and

an eager young actress.

Moore, Sonia. The Stanislavsky System: the Professional Training

of an Actor. Digested from the teachings of Konstantin S.

Stanislavsky (New York: Viking Press, 1965). This is a very

good capsulization of Stanislavsky's teachings, presented in

an organized, easy-to-read fashion. If you haven't heard of any

of this stuff before, this is the place to begin.

Stanislavski, Constantin (it's the same guy, they just can't agree

how to Anglicize his Russian name), tr. Elizabeth Reynolds

Hapgood. An Actor Prepares (New York: Theatre Arts

Books, 1948). This is Stanislavsky's basic text on acting and

the inner training of the imagination, including many exercises

and practical suggestions, and written as a delightful story about

a group of awkward actors encountering their first real acting

class. Two other titles by Stanislavski by the same publisher

are: Building a Character, and the last title in the planned

trilogy, recreated from his notes by a Mrs. Hapgood, Creating a

Role.

Sullivan, Claudia N. The Actor Alone: Exercises for Work in Progress
(Jefferson: McFarland, 1993). This book presents exercises for general
creative growth, as well as for working on specific roles, and is
particularly designed for the actor working alone.

Written by:

Alice Karlsdóttir




Chapter XXXIV

Working Rites and Holding Feasts

As spoken of in the last two chapters, many things need to be thought of when planning and performing a rite: group size, stead, tools, and so forth. This chapter is meant to give a basic practical guide to most of the activities which are likely to be needful in Troth rites.

I.	Getting Everyone There On Time

This sounds simple, but isn't. There is an unkind, but unfortunately true, joke going the rounds: 'Why do witches do magic at midnight? That's when the eight o'clock ritual starts!" To Heathens, "Teutonic efficiency" often seems to be much more like that described by Tacitus than that thought to characterize Germanic people in the twentieth century...
The way to deal with this is to hold the rites when the rites are supposed to be held. Those who are not there at sunset (or whatever the appointed time is) will just have to miss out. A certain amount of leeway can be given to those whose work keeps them from getting there at sunset and can warn the leader of it beforehand; but those who are not there when they said they would be there should not be waited for too long.
Readying for the rite should start at least half an hour beforehand. The harrow should be set, those who need to put on garb should get into garb, the speakers should check their scripts for the last time. At fifteen minutes before time, it is not a bad idea to ring a bell or blow a horn and shout "Last call for the loo!" or words to that effect - nothing spoils a ritual like a full bladder. Five minutes before the appointed time, the bell should be rung and horn blown again, and the folk should start getting into whatever the desired position is. This means that you can start when you are supposed to start. Sometimes this is not tremendously important, but sometimes, as when dealing with rites that are supposed to be done at sunset/midnight/dawn, it is. With a dawn rite, make sure that you wake no less than a half-hour before time so that they all have time to become at least marginally conscious before the ritual starts.

II.	Harrow-Setting

This should be done before the rite starts. Make a list of everything you will need, then check the list to be sure it is all there. While religious rites (unlike magical rites) do not closely court major disaster if one element is left out, it is tacky to stop in the middle and say "Oh damnit, I forgot the matches! Helga, have you got your lighter on you?" or to have to make a run for the ice-chest, refrigerator, and/or bottle opener during the ritual.
A more elaborate rite may call for more tools than can easily be set on a small harrow. Ways to deal with this are: folk designated as holders-of-things, especially things like horns, spears, and other precarious items; a small table next to the harrow where items can be put until they are ready to use; or leaving larger and less delicate things (like baskets of fruit) on the ground by the harrow and hoping like Hel that no one kicks them over. Rehearsal of a ritual will make dealing with such things far, far easier.

III.	Tools

The basic ritual tools of the Troth are the Hammer, the horn or cup, the sax (knife), the blessing-bowl, and the blessing-twig. A ritual Hammer can easily be made by painting a basic sledgehammer, risting runes or holy signs on the handle, or simply hallowing it. Blessing-bowls should be of traditional materials. If you are of the school that likes to leave a bowl standing all night with ale in it for the god/esses and wights to drink from, a ceramic or stone bowl is better than a wooden one. Kjalnesinga saga mentions a copper blessing-bowl. Blessing-twigs may be picked fresh for each ritual; what sort of twig you choose will depend on (1) the time and purpose of the rite, and the god/esses called on, and (2) what grows in your neighborhood.
The horn and the sax often seem to be the hardest items for people to get hold of. Generally, the best sources for such things are Renaissance Faires. It is not necessary that the sax be an actual replica of an historical blade; what is important is that it look and feel right and holy to you. Directions on making a drinking horn are given in "Mead-Making and Other Crafts". If you cannot make or buy one, you can order one from Gefjon's Arðr (see "Organizations and Resources"). Gefjon does beautiful horns made to order, ranging from very cheap and plain to highly carved, silver-bound, and fairly pricey pieces of work. She also makes blessing-bowls, rune-sets and rune-set blanks, and many other things of similar ilk.
If you live in a place where you cannot hold your rites outside, or easily walk out and pour the blessing-bowl's contents onto the earth (the first Steersman of the Troth used to fling his blessing-ale into the garden through his open window), you also need to have a large basin which you can fill with earth and set beside the harrow. The blessing is then poured onto this earth, which can be put back where you got it at your leisure.
Candles are often used in Troth rites, both for ritual purposes and simple lighting. If the candles are to be taken outside at any point, they should be of the glass-enclosed sort which cannot easily be blown out by the wind; it is a very bad sign for a candle to be blown out at the wrong time. If there is any wind at all, it is almost impossible to keep an ordinary candle lit for the length of a rite.

IV.	Horn-Filling; Drinking from a Horn

This is something that takes practice. If meal or wine are used, filling is no problem, but ale tends to put out a huge head when poured into a horn, making it necessary to wait for a while if you want to get anything but froth for the first few gulps. Ways to deal with this are (1) pour the ale in a thin, slow stream along the side of the horn, rather than just dumping it in. This will cut down on the froth. It should be done in a deliberate and intense way, as a ritual act in itself: the worker should feel the might of the draught slowly rising within the horn until it is just on the point of foaming over - a few drops may be allowed to spill. (2) Have the hall-idis fill the horn a little while before it is needed, topping it up when it has settled so that she can band a full horn to the godwo/rnan. (3) Start by filling the horn all the way and letting the froth run over into the blessing-bowl. This is ritually good, because it shows that you have so much ale that it is foaming well over the horn to be shared by all god/esses and wights.  Again, it takes much practice to make sure that the froth will go into the blessing bowl, rather than all over the floor and/or godwo/man.
Drinking from a horn is a skill that can only be learned by much practice. The keywords are slow and careful. Otherwise, you will get a sudden tidal wave sloshing over your face.

V.	Sprinkling with a Blessing-Twig

This needs to be done with some care, especially in a group that goes in for fine ritual garb, whose folk may not appreciate having to clean off mead- or ale-spots. The worker should walk slowly around the circle with bowl and twig in hand, stopping directly in front of each person and lightly sprinkling their heads.

VI.	Lighting Fires

This can be the most magical part of the rite. Fires come in two sorts, need-fire (kindled by friction - see discussion under "Waluburg's Night") and struck fire (flint and steel - see discussion under "Thonar"). Matches fall into the former class, lighters into the latter.
The First Law of ritual fire-lighting is this: Where you have a ritual fire, you must also have a ritual water-can. Accidents happen. Whether you invite him or not, Loki is always around when fires are lit. Also, never try to squirt lighter fluid, gasoline, or anything else intensely flammable onto a burning fire.
When dealing with a fire, Wisdom is the most important of all the thews. Remember, fire is potentially the most destructive of all the elements with which we usually deal in the course of the rite. If an outdoors fire is not fully extinguished by the time you leave, it can destroy an entire woodland. Handled carelessly, an indoors fire can burn down your home. Always consider the maximum damage that can be caused, then consider the minimum effort needed to cause it - such as the flying of a stray spark.
If you are lighting a fire inside, you need to be sure that you do it in a place where there is little risk of stray sparks catching curtains, rugs, and so forth on fire. Normally, candles are easiest to deal with for indoor work anyway. However, if your hall has a fireplace, you may wish to make kindling a hearth-fire part of the ritual,
Probably the best way to deal with a fire in your yard is to put it in an actual barbecue grill, which are made for the purpose of having fire in your yard.

In a natural/outdoors setting, matters become more complicated. When a central fire is to be used, you must look at the three-fold considerations:

1)	What size/kind of fire will be needed to accommodate the people involved and purpose to be served (cooking? warmth on a snowy night? simple fellowship)?

2)	How much area will be needed to contain all the necessary participants, the fire, and the safety margin?

3)	What provisions are there for low-impact usage of the area?

Central fires or Eldir (ON eldr) are best built by experts, but in lieu of such woodfolk, the following guidelines are offered:

A)	Dead wood bums because it has dried out, live wood has moisture in its pulp and does not burn well. Beyond the need to harm as little as possible in the forest, this is an excellent reason not to be chopping down everything in sight. Non-felled dead wood may be a danger to the local habitat and clearing it can be a service to the denizens of the wood (but check to see that it has not become home to some woodland creatures).

B)	Prepare wood as follows:

For center Eldr, use large logs, arranged by size in groups of three. Notch each to fit the other two in triangular fashion. Notching means interlocking cut-outs fitted together (Logs will he progressively smaller as the pyramid ascends). Three long stout branches, to be used as frames, are notched on top to tepee one another and angled on the bottom to be spiked into the earth. Several cross-beams are added at every third level of wood to add kindling to that level - two per level, parallel, kindling laid straight across them. The best material for kindling is hay, dried grass, dried pine needles, dry bark, and twigs. Also good are open pine cones that have been
feathered (take pocket knife and cut angularly towards the center. Stop before cutting through. Alternate along sides). Small dry sticks can also be feathered for kindling.

To arrange your ritual site, begin by clearing an area in a multiple of NINE - six feet of clear area around each three feet of fire space. Stake the center of the site, and lead out three lengths (nine feet) of rope. Center the bulk of the rope around the stake and attach the end of your length to it. Walk out until the nine-foot rope is taut, then walk deosil around the center. You are acting like a protracting compass, creating a close to perfect circle. Trace this area. Then repeat at the two inner markers (6 and
3 feet respectively). You can mark the 6' point with four stakes, denoting the cardinal directions. Later you may highlight these with standing smudge pots (called glóðker - "glow-pots", ON) or tiki torches (blys -ON). Remove all flammables (leaves, sticks, paper u.s.w.) and rock off the fire ring with large stones to hearth the fire. At the base of the fire lay, notch together the three largest logs, and sprinkle kindling in the middle, starting with dried grass, leaves, and feathered pine cones. Then add feathered sticks and twigs. Build the pyramid on the frame of the three "teepeed" or tripod vertical beams, internotching wood in alternating fashion around the frame horizontally. Note: the teepee tripod is inside the structure. Occasionally add a pair of cross-beams for stability, and to sub-stage the kindling. To add flavor to the fire, mix oak and pine together with varying amounts of cherry wood. The inner ring of Eldr represents the hearth (heart of the home), the illuminating force within, and contact with the divine through nature.
The cleared area immediately outside the fire-circle, called Mi6hringr (Middle-Ring), may be marked off with glóðker. Take four stout branches each at least three feet long by at least three inches circumference. You'll need 4 metallic containers (like a coffee can - the heavier the metal, the better), 4 wide-headed wood nails, a metal saw, and a nail driver. Cut the can so that it is only three inches high, then nail dead center to the top of the wood at one end. After attaching the can to the end of the wood, carve a spiked tip at the opposite end and drive into the ground at one of the four compass cardinal directions. Glóðker can hold lit coals. For added excitement, fill the glóðker with denatured alcohol and a coloring agent:
for the West, an earth-colored or green flammable like boric acid; East, water, blue, potassium nitrate; South, fire, red, strontium nitrate; North, air, yellow, pure alcohol and a wick (or vary with your chosen elemental attributions -KHG). Needless to say, if this is done, you must be especially sure that the bases are very firm and that you have hill supplies for putting out the fires at once in case of accident. The use of glóðker is not recommended at rites where children are present, or during times when much drinking is going on.

For dealing with fires and outdoor work in general, we strongly recommend that every group get hold of a copy of the Boy Scout Handbook, which sets out the most clear, practical, and responsible guidelines you can have. If there is an experienced Scout in your kindred, all the better.

To make a proper need-fire according to the procedures described in the Boy Scout Handbook p. 114), you will need a spindle (round at one end, tapered at the other), fireboard with holes gouged for the spindle, spreading into V-cuts for the embers to fall into, a stiff, arm-length branch with a leather thong for the bow, a block of wood or stone with a smooth depression that the round part of the spindle fits into and can spin easily in, and tinder (shredded bark, cotton). Put the tinder on the ground and the
fireboard over it. Kneel on one knee with the other foot on the fireboard. Rest the round end of the spindle in the handblock (which is in the palm of your weak hand), the tapered end in one of the holes in the fireboard; wrap the bowstring around the spindle once and pull the bow strongly back and forth until heavy smoke is rising. Knock the ember into the tinder and blow it into flame, feeding it up with twigs and bits of kindling. The Boy Scout Handbook claims that fire has been made in 6.4 seconds, which is great if you can do it. Again, much practice is needed before you try to make a need-fire as part of a ritual; otherwise everyone may be standing there watching you sweat for half an hour.

		Stores that have Scouting supplies may actually sell kits with a pre-made spindle, bow, and fireboard, though the ideal is to be able to make your own from natural materials. According to the Handbook, the best woods are "yucca, elm, red cedar, willow root, basswood, sycamore, cottonwood, poplar, soft maple, and white pine" (1). 114).
Sven Cornan-Luger also suggests a means of "cheating" - shave the tips of matches off and crumble them into the hole where the fire is to be kindled.

The Boy Scout Handbook also tells how to start fire with flint and steel. To do this, you need a piece of flint, a steel (see 'Signs" for a drawing of a Viking Age fire-lighter, which can easily be made by anyone with minimal metal-working facilities. This is best - but an old file can also be used), punk, and tinder. Punk is made of lighter wicking (light the end, then snuff it out) or charred cloth; shredded dry bark is best for tinder. Hold the flint and punk between your fingers; strike a glancing blow on the flint with the steel, which you aim so that the sparks will hit the punk. Place the smoldering punk in the tinder and blow it gently into flame. The punk and tinder can also be placed together on the ground and lit in the same manner (p.115).

VII.	Site Responsibility

The fitting behavior of guests in another's home has already been spoken of under "Guest-Friendliness' ("Troth and the Folk"). The same basic rules apply even more so to outdoor workings - for there we are guests in the home of the god/esses, the land-wights, and the Earth herself. It is our responsibility not only to leave a site as clean as we found it - but, if possible, to leave it in better condition. When one who is true goes walking in the woods, s/he should bring a bag to collect the trash those who do not love the land have tossed aside; when true folk gather for a holy feast outdoors, they should be all the more aware of their need to honor the Earth by caring for her. This means: collect all non-biodegradables, whether you were the one who left them or not, and take them away with you hopefully, you will take whatever can be recycled for recycling). Do not toss cigarette butts on the ground. Make sure that not only are fires out, but the ashes are raked into the earth so that the fire site can no longer be seen (although, if it is a site often visited, you may choose to leave the stone ring there for other folk to use). Do not cut living wood if you can help it, and if you must, be sure to make fitting honor to the tree. Obey all park regulations, and take due note when warned of natural hazards (such as bears, in some places...). When you leave an outdoors ritual site, it should not only not look as though you had never been there, it should look, aside from necessary structures, as though no human had ever been there.
These deeds may seem like small things, but they are part of a deeply important ritual - the blessing which is made to the Earth and the landwights when you come to a stead and when you leave.
The elder Troth is an earth-religion: without that love and honor for the world around us, there is no point to any of the other works we do.

VIII.	Feast-Planning

This must be done well in advance. The host/ess must decide what s/he is willing to provide as far as food, drink, and such are concerned; then the group must decide how to make up any lacks.
With groups of less than forty, the most practical means of arranging a feast, as has been mentioned a couple of times before in this book, is potluck, B.Y.O.B. If everyone brings food and a six-pack or a couple of bottles, then there will likely be enough of everything for everyone. The only caution is that the host/ess or rite leader should call the folk and find out what everyone is planning to bring well in advance. This way you avoid ending up with loads of dessert and no main dish. Stew is a popular choice, being easy to cook for a large gathering and relatively cheap. Bread is always in demand, and whoever is responsible for coordinating the feast should make sure that several people bring loaves. Roasts are nice, but more pricey; and if serving a roast, you have to have a very clear idea of how many folk will actually be showing up.
For various reasons, planning the quantity of food for Heathen feasts is different than planning it for a dinner party. This is partly because of the length of most feasts - anything from a few hours to a full twenty-four -and partly because Heathens tend to eat and drink a lot on festive occasions. This is fully in keeping with the spirit of our forebears, but must be planned for; few things are more shameful than running out of food or drink at a holy feast. At normal parties, one plans for roughly half a bottle of wine and six to eight ounces of meat per person. The tatter allowance should probably be doubled for a Heathen feast, the former - is dealt with by B.Y.O.B.
The Heathen community is also finding other ways of dealing with food and drink for larger events. Both mead and ale are usually brewed in five-gallon lots, and home-brew, aside from usually being better than commercial alcohol (not to mention more traditional and more fun), is a lot cheaper than store-bought. Lately, some groups that live in more rural areas have also taken to butchering their own animals and roasting them whole - again, much cheaper than buying the meat in the store, though only to be done by those who already know how to butcher an animal swiftly and humanely, and live in places where this activity is normal and permitted. One pig or sheep provides food for a lot of people.

Once you start getting above thirty-five people, however, potluck becomes more and more impractical for a ritual communal feast. This is the point at which it is time to start charging a small feast-fee in advance as is now done in the Society for Creative Anachronism and at Ásatrú events such as the yearly Troth Ostara. With the financial side taken care of, Garth or Hof volunteers should be able to put on a large and reasonably good feast. The SCA has been doing this for many years, and may even be a good resource for practical advice and information about halls or sites that can be hired, although they must be approached with caution (see "Organizations and Resources"). If a feast-fee is charged, then either alcohol cannot be served (must be B.Y.O.B.) or the coordinator must find out what the regulations concerning the service/sale of alcohol in the area are.

IX. Security

	This becomes more important as groups become larger and more diverse. In days of old, violence at feasting was quite a common thing. We would like to avoid this, the more so since many of the true still come to feasts and rites armed with swords and other weapons, as befits free folk. While there has never yet been any violence at Troth rituals, other Ásatrú groups have experienced quite serious difficulties.

It is, thus, strongly recommended that there be at least one person in ten who is both willing to stay sober and watchful and capable of dealing sensibly and effectively with difficulties up to and including drunks with drawn swords. Caution is clearly the most important watch-word here, of course! More often, the problem is simply someone making him/herself obnoxious to the point where s/he needs to be firmly told to sit down and shut up or take her/his leave. Having designated Watch-Thanes to deal with such problems saves wear and tear on everyone.

It is unfortunate, but true, that there are people in the world who do not like Heathens and will go to some lengths to make that clear. The chapter "Under the Law: Rights, Choices, and Dangers" outlines the best ways of dealing with such people. However, other Pagans (especially when holding rites in isolated areas) have been put in a position where there was neither time nor opportunity to call the police to deal with the problem. Here, the best advice we can give is: Know Your Area. If you live near a large community of armed fundamentalists, or hold your rites in a park frequented by gangs of one sort or another, then you had best be prepared to set lookouts and protect yourself at need. The best option in such cases may even be hiring professional security or (assuming that you have made sure that every detail of your event conforms to local law) requesting a police lookout; but failing that, you are ultimately responsible for yourself As a warrior tradition in which swords and spears are a part of adult ritual dress, the elder Troth has a certain advantage over other Pagan groups in this respect; however, the Way of the Gun beats the Way of the Sword just about every time.

X.	Alcohol


"It's still good enough for Odin, when mead to horn has flowed in. Though a hangover may be bodin', it's good enough for me!" (That Old Time Religion, anon.) 

	Alcohol is the base of all the holy drinks of the Northern people; the name of one of our holiest rites, "symbel', is even used as a general term in Old Norse for alcoholic drink. It has been the consciousness-altering chemical of choice for the Northern Europeans at least since the Bronze Age, and quite possibly from earlier times.
Beer, wine, mead, and their mightier distillations are the very life-blood of Heathen feasting, ritual, and fellowship. Where our forebears filled their blessing-bowls with the actual blood of slaughtered beasts, we fill ours with those equally holy fluids, mead and ale.
However, as we all should know by now, alcohol should be treated with great care. A degree of mellowness was not only allowed, but desired at holy feasts in the days of our forebears; while drunkenness was never condemned. We have to modify our attitude towards drink in modern times, largely because of our changing technology. In the old days, a drunk might have fallen off his/her horse, or even steered it over a cliff - but s/he could not have steered it head-on into the next lane of traffic. In some places, law now provides that the person who serves the drink is responsible if a drunk person has a traffic accident. Finally, alcohol can be physically and psychologically addictive, and, taken in great excess or over a long period of time, can cause bodily damage up to and including death.
Also, it must be remembered that alcohol was generally in shorter supply in elder times. The strong ale we can buy in pubs or at the grocery store was usually brewed only for holy feasts, while what was generally available was more akin to 'light beer', 'near-beer', or "low-alcohol lager'. Mead, being honey-based, was even rarer, while distillates were basically unknown (though, it is true, beer kept over the winter could develop to startlingly high strengths, which undoubtedly added a little extra energy to the clashing of spear on shield at springtime moots). Thus the drinking at feast-times was more enthusiastic because the drink was. mostly less available. There are many true folk today who seldom drink except at rites.
It would not be in keeping with the spirit of our forebears to discourage deep drinking at events (although drunks at symbel were considered rather uncouth), or to condemn general drinking, so long as it does not lessen the atheling-thews of the person in question. Obviously,
someone whose ability to work is damaged by his/her drinking, who is dependent on alcohol for any activities s/he must perform, or who allows drink to harm his/her physical health, has a serious problem as long as s/he continues to drink. This is when we, while staying true to our tradition, can say that alcohol has become not only a bad, but a spiritually damaging thing - and should, if necessary, be forsaken altogether rather than allowed to become something that lessens one's honor, strength, or productivity.
Consumption of much alcohol at a feast, however, is quite traditionally acceptable. But the Troth stresses that this must be dealt with in certain ways today - with the responsibility and self-rule that characterize true folk. On no account must people who are not completely sober be allowed to drive home. Some kindreds require that guests give up their car-keys when they walk in the door. Other groups have good folk, staying sober for one reason or another, who volunteer to drive those who should not drive themselves. At a larger event, especially when folk have driven from a long way oft it is important that basic crash space be provided so that everyone who needs to can spend the night there. If someone has drunk enough to be obnoxious or dangerous to those around him/her, s/he should be gently, but firmly, removed so that s/he can sober up before doing anything that s/he might regret later. Those who break things while drunk should still consider themselves accountable for them when sober: to be truly free-standing, you must be responsible for whatever you do in whatever condition you are. Sometimes this means embarrassing apologies for whatever you may have done or said, paying for whatever you may have broken or soiled beyond cleaning, or accepting with good (if hungover) humor the uncoveted 'Egill Skalla-Grímsson Drekk-til-at-Spyja ("Drink Till You Barf') Memorial Award' and all accompanying teasing. If you find that the pleasure of a hearty skinful of mead at feast is not worth the prices you pay the morning after, learn from experience (or, even better, from other peoples' experiences) and think before you start drinking!
Finally, it must be noted that there are many true folk who, for whatever reason, cannot or will not drink so much as a ceremonial sip. Such folk should never have alcohol forced upon them. There are at least two ways of dealing with this in symbel or at holy rites. First, it is enough for someone who cannot drink to gape his/her mouth above the horn - to breathe in its might. Secondly, should that not seem fitting, the non-drinker may simply take the hallowed horn and raise her/his own horn or cup, knock the rim of one against that or the other, make the toast, drink, and spill a few drops of his/her own drink into the blessing-horn. Non-drinkers should warn the godwo/man ahead of time so as to assure that the rite has not been set up in such a way that they will be forced either to take a sip of alcohol or to set themselves outside the company of the true.
For non-drinkers and for children, a recipe for a non-alcoholic mead-like drink for ritual use is given in the chapter on "Brewing and Crafts". Several brands of non-alcoholic beer can also be bought at most large stores; Clausthaler is probably the best. Non-alcoholic wine is likewise available and appropriate for rituals, although its quality is not particularly high. Given current Scandinavian and German use, a pretty good case can probably be made for designating coffee as a ritual/celebratory drink; and in fact, although the tradition can only date from the last two or three hundred years, it is used as such in the "Lucy" celebrations of Continental Scandinavia and the 'Sun-Coffee' festival of Iceland.
It is extremely tacky to serve Kool-Aid at feasts. Despite certain superficial resemblances borne by some Ásatrú folk (and the fact that many of us started out in that church), we are not Lutherans!

XI.	Ritual Garb

The Troth does not have any sort of official ritual garb, insignias for godwo/men, Elders, or officers, or anyone else. Some folk choose to dress as our forebears did, either recreating the dress of a specific place/time or bringing together elements from several layers of the Germanic world. To some, this is only done at feasts and marks off the ritual character of the blessing, bringing them to stand with their ancestors in a single timeless stead; to others, dressing in the way of our forebears whenever possible is a way to become closer to their thoughts and feelings. Yet others prefer to wear modern garb with only a token of troth such as a Hammer, feeling that a growing religion ought to be a part of the culture around it, rather than set apart. Because of the wide range of choices and feelings, the Troth has decided to leave such things up to the one or group.
There is some proof of special religious dress among the Germanic folk. The priests of the Alcis have already been spoken of ("Fro Ing"). In the old Norse sources, there is the description of the bl6t held by Lj6t, where the object of the blessing - her son - was led to the blót-stead in a special red garment. The Icelandic góðar wore the hof-rings on their arms when making the blessings. The sacrifice scene on the Hammars I picture stone also shows the godman wearing a long robe and no sword, while the warriors behind him are dressed in knee-length tunics and nail weaponry.
Such items as the horned helms and wolfskins used in some rites have already been spoken of; it is possible that masking (perhaps as the holy animal of the godless being called on) could also have been part of Germanic religious practice at some time, though this likely would have fallen more into the realm of ritual drama.
By and large, the historical examples of ritual dress are limited to those specifically given to the god/esses. This does not limit us today, of course, though it does suggest that it is fitting for those who consider themselves to be so given to choose some sign which they bear either at holy rituals or all the time. What you choose as this sign is a matter for your own soul to guide you in.

Contributors

D.J. O'Halloran, fromm "Of Fire, Ceremonial Sites, Risting, and Nature:
Part II"
Alice Karlsdottir
Richard King
Lavrans Reimer-Möller


Chapter XXXV

Rituals of Need

As well as the blessings of the times of life and the year, there are also
many rituals which can be carried out when-ever there is need for them.
These include daily rites, drink-toasts, blessings to the god/esses,
blood-siblinghood, kinship in a Hearth or Garth (or a personal pledge to
the ways of the North for those who have no kindred of the true about
them), and, of course, the Hammer Rite. Chapt

Daily Rites

These are the small rites that can (and should) be done every day, or
whenever it seems fitting. Living with the god/esses and our elder kin is
not something that only happens at the great blessings of the year, or when
need drives us to call on them; it is something that should be woven into
the warp and weft of our lives.

Hail to the Sun (Adoration of Sunna)

The "Hail to the Sun" is not, strictly speaking, a part of traditional
Northern practice. The idea of a blessing spoken at the Sun's four steads -
dawn, mid-day, sunset, and midnight - came to us from ceremonial magic, and
may find its ultimate origin in Rudyard Kipling's "A Song to Mithras". The
basic idea was picked up independently by different Nordicists in recent
years and adapted, with varying degrees of effort and success, to Teutonic
practice. However, it has been proven very useful in several ways. Its
basic purpose is to make the speaker more sensitive to the flows of might
throughout the day, so that s/he will better be able to work blessings that
center around the Sun's times (such as the dawn rites of Ostara, for
instance). Also, it can be spoken (or whispered) swiftly at the fitting
times without a great deal of ceremony, and thus serves to remind the
speaker, where-ever s/he is, of the might of the god/esses and the worlds
about us.

Several different versions of hailing the Sun have been put forth,
including Kveldulf Gundarsson's (Teutonic Magic, 1990), Edred Thorsson's (A
Book of Troth, 1989), and, much closer to Crowley's Egyptian original, Ymir
Thunarsson's (Idunna IV, 3, 16, 1992). At Grendel Grettison's request,
KveldúlfR also recently composed an Old Norse version (in galdralag).
Although the Troth does not go out of its way to encourage Old Norse as a
"liturgical language", our main stream of practice focusing rather on Saxon
English, since there are a number of folk out there who do like Old Norse
(and others who may prefer the English translation of this variant of the
call), it is included here.

Sól, komðu heil! skínandi í morgni,

ásynja, agæt ok fögr.

Fyr Dellings durom drottning, vís sigr,

heil skaltu til himins,

heil frá nifli ok nótt!

Sól, komðu heil! skínandi í himni,

ásynja, agæt ok fögr.

Í himins sali, helga, vís sigr,

heil frá dögun drag

heil frá himni ríð.

Sól, komðu heil! skínandi í aptan,

ásynja, agæt ok fögr.

Í brennanda eldi, björt, vís sigr,

heil komðu fra himni,

heil ríð niðr í nótt.

Sól, komðu heil! skínandi í myrkri,

ásynja, agæt ok fögr.

Í nifli ok nótt, nornljós, vís sigr,

heil komðu frá kveldi,

heil dragðu til dags.

Sun, hail to thee! shining in morning,

far-famed goddess, and fair.

Before doors of Delling, drightine, show sig,

holy rise you to heaven,

holy from nibel and night.

Sun, hail to thee! shining in heaven,

far-famed goddess, and fair.

In heaven's halls, holy, show sig,

holy draw up from dawn,

holy from heaven ride.

Sun, hail to thee! shining in evening,

far-famed goddess, and fair.

In burning fire, bright one, show sig.

holy come you from heaven,

holy ride down to the dark.

Sun, hail to you! shining in darkness,

far-famed goddess, and fair.

In nibel and night, norn-light, show sig.

holy swing down from setting,

holy draw up to day.

At the Heathen Kinship we use the Adoration of Sunna, and encourage new members and novices to perform it 4 times a day, every day, for at least 2 weeks without missing a single instance.  If you miss one, then start your count over again.  We believe this dedication opens up a line of trust and communication with the goddess Sunna that is miraculous!

Morning


Hail unto the who art Sunna, Goddess of the Sun,

In thy rising

Even unto thee who art Sunna,

In thy strength

Deliver another drop of purest light to empower us

With thy goodness

We send the greetings from the Dawn Tide

Of the day.

Noon


Hail unto the who art Sunna, Goddess of the Sun,

In thy fullness

Even unto thee who art Sunna,

In thy highest stead

Deliver another drop of purest light to empower us

With thy wisdom

We send thee greetings from the Noon Tide

Of the day.

Evening


Hail unto thee who art Sunna, Goddess of the sun,

In thy waning

Even unto thee who art Sunna,

In thy setting

Deliver another drop of purest light to empower us

With thy love

We send thee greetings from the Abodes

Of Twilight.

Midnight


Hail unto thee who art Sunna, Goddess of the Sun

In thy rest,

Even unto thee who art Sunna,

In thy slumber

Deliver another drop of purest light to empower us

With thy peace,

We send the greetings from the Abodes

Of the night.

Blessing of Food

Whenever we eat or drink, we should remember the sources from which our
nourishment comes, and the uses to which we will put it. We are fed by the
gifts of the earth and the heavens, the gods and goddesses; the might of
our food strengthens our bodies and our souls, so that we in turn may give
our blessings to them.

The simplest means of hallowing food and drink has been practiced in Ásatrú
at least since the beginning of the Rebirth - the Hammer-Signing. Start
with a closed fist, roughly at head-height. See a ball of white brightness
striking into your hand from above. Bring your fist down to just above the
food and see the shining might sink into it, then move your hand across the
bottom of the Hammer-sign (see illustration, "Signs"). If you are in a
mixed family group, or other situations where a large and dramatic
Hammer-sign might be a problem, a small and quick version of the gesture
can be made.

Again, we emphasize that the Hammer-sign is not to be taken as a sign of
the particular cult of Thonar, nor even of the Ases (as opposed to the
Wans). It is the general sign of hallowing, and thus fitting for all to
use. However, other signs may also be used: the walknot can be traced for
Wodan, the spiral for Frija, the sun-wheel for the Wans, or whatever else
seems fitting.

At a gathering of true folk, or whenever it seems appropriate, a longer
blessing may be spoken:

"Hail to the gods, hail the goddesses,

holy kin, here we feast.

The seeds were sown fair shoots came forth.

hail, the all-giving earth,

hail to the heavens high!

May our might and main wax great,

growing from frith-full feast.

works to wreak and Wyrd to dree,

in are and troth living aye,

with god-kin aye feasting glad!"

Greeting a Guest

Whenever a guest comes in the front door, at the very least, they should be
asked what they want to drink. This is simple guest-friendliness.

If the guest is a true person (especially if s/he has come from some way
off), and/or if s/he is coming to a ritual, s/he should be greeted with a
welcoming horn of mead, ale, or wine (or the nonalcoholic equivalent
thereof for non-drinkers). This should be given to him/her by the
hall-frowe, if there is one. At a large ritual, one of the women should be
stationed by the door to greet the guests. As always, it should be
remembered that this is not a servile role: as ruler of all the hall's
secrets and its inner life, it is the woman's choice to accept guests into
the fellowship by offering them the holy horn. This act brings are to both
the giver and the guest. Here follows a short list of greeting formulas
which may be spoken:

General:

Welcome I give the wanderer here,

with bright and blessed draught.

Greeted art thou with grith and frith,

hail in holy hall!

Mead:

Mead I offer you, mighty helm-tree ("gem-tree" for a woman),

sig-wives' sweetness and joy.

Kvasir's life-draught, drink, greeting-full,

hail in holy hall!

Wine:

Wine I offer you, web-shuttle's Hilde ("war-Balder shining"),

riches of Rhine's fair banks.

Wish-fro's draught, drink, greeting-full,

hail in holy hall!

Ale:

Ale I offer you, awesome ring-breaker,

Byggvir's blood strong-worked.

Draft brewed by Ægir, drink, greeting-full,

hail in holy hall!

Before drinking, the guest should then raise the horn and make a toast to
the frowe and the hall, such as:

Hail to the giver! to goddess of welcome,

hail to this holy hall!

All grith I vow with greeting drink,

and frith with all folk within.

Drink-Toasts

These toasts can be learned and spoken at any times when you lift a horn or
glass, or they can be used in symbel when your own skald-wod is a little
lacking. It is good to have a range of fair-sounding staves ready for use
at need.

Wodan

Hail to Wodan, Walhall's drighten,

hail the rister of runes.

All-Father, Yggr, eagle-high, wyrm-deep,

hail for singing spear,

hail for mead of might!

Tiw

Hail to Tiw, true and high god,

worthy leavings of Wolf.

One-Handed, awesome, oath-god mighty,

bright Irminsul's upholder,

hail thee, holy law-god!

Frija

Hail to Frija, Fensalir's ruler,

weaver of wisdom's threads.

Bright queen of household, holy wyrd-kenner,

seeress, spindle-turner,

hail for care and kin!

Thonar

Hail to Thonar, thurses' slayer,

warder of wih-stead aye.

Wyrm's lone bane, Bilskírnir's king,

holding the high-seat posts,

hail the Hammer-God!

Sif

Hail to Sif, shining-haired goddess,

golden as ripened grain.

Rowan-warder, rowner of ørlögs,

hail thee, Thonar's bright bride,

hail thee, hair-fair queen!

Balder

Hail to Balder, bright one, slain-god,

hulled in Hella's halls.

Wax aye in might, waiting in darkness,

shining in steads below,

hail thee, hope of our souls!

Fro Ing

Hail Fro Ing for frith and joy,

greetings to grith-stead's god.

giver of harvest, helmed as boar-warder

hail thee, mound-god hidden,

hail thee, holy of gods!

The Frowe

Hail the Frowe, falcon-winging,

Brísingamen's bright maid,

fiery as gold fair-lighting in sea,

singer of clear seið-songs,

hail thee, Lady of love!

Loki

Hail thee, Loki, aloft bright-faring,

Wodan's friend, rich in wit.

Thonar's wise wain-friend, wily gift-bringer,

have thy oath-given horn,

not lies, but laughter I hail!

Heimdallr

Hail to Heimdallr, high-minded god,

shining above Bifröst's span.

Nine mothers' son, nine sisters' bairn,

rowner of runes to earth's folk,

Hail, all holy kins' sire!

Skaði

Hail to Skaði, shadow-dark maid,

bright-shining bride of gods.

Winner of weregild, weaponed for battle,

mother of mighty troth-warders,

hail in thy holy steads.

Gefjon

Hail to Gefjon, giver of life,

plough-goddess, proving the earth,

maids' goddess kindly, keeping them safe,

teller of tales to kings,

hail, with oxen and ard!

Wulþur

Hail to Wulþur, wielding thy bow-might,

hunter in high places, hail!

Shining on snow-shoes, ski-god track-wise,

oath-ring's hallower awesome,

hail, with shield and shaft!

Forebears

Hail ye all, my elder kin,

stock and strength of my clan,

In mound deep-rooted rowning your wisdom,

spring forth to live in my soul,

as I stand true in your troth.

Blessings to God/esses

These are the blessings that can be given to a single god/ess at need, or
simply whenever you would like to touch them (but remember the words of the
Hávamál - better not to make blessing than to make too many, for a gift
looks ever for a gift!). You will mark that they follow a basic plan -
hailing, horn-sharing, speech, blessing-pouring, farewell - with a
particular sort of gift that is fitting to the god/ess in question. The
writing of a blessing to each of the god/esses would probably be a book in
itself: the ones given here are Wodan, Frija, Fro Ing, and Eir (the "Feast
of Thonar" blessing, with only slight changes, can be done as a general
Thonar-blessing whenever there is need).

Wodan-Blessing

You will need a hornfull of mead, cider, or wine, a blessing bowl, a knife
or spear (if you have one), and a deep blue candle; if recels are burnt,
they should be a mixture of juniper, mugwort, and ash wood or leaves
(remember that yew is poisonous, whether eaten or burnt). The gift for
Wodan should be a small human figure (something biodegradable, such as
bread) with a noose lightly wrapped around his neck. Before beginning the
rite, you should sit for some time with this figure in your hands, feeling
might and main flow through you into him until he seems alive. At this time
you may even sprinkle him with a drop of water and give him a suitable
name. Any of the Ás- or Os-names are fitting (such as Ásmundr, Ásbjörn,
Osmund, Oswald), since these names show one given to the god, as he is
about to be. In this rite, we will speak of him as Aswald.

To make the gift, you will either need to go outside to a tree or bring a
branch in and fasten it up to use as a hanging-tree for Wodan. If the
latter, be sure that there is a wide tray of earth underneath it to catch
the drips when you pour the contents of the blessing-bowl over your
sacrifice.

I. Hammer-Rite.

II. Light the candle and/or recels, saying,

I light the way, the worlds between,

my call in kindled flame.

show bright the path shine bright for him,

whom heart now hails forth.

III. Stand in elhaz-stance and call,

Raven's blót-goði! Gungnir's wielder!

Feeder of Freki, hear me!

Sig-Father shining! shield uplifting,

walkurjas' wish-father, hear me!

Wild Hunt's leader, wolf-wood howler,

draugs' dark drighten, hear me!

Reaper of barley red on the field,

helm-trees' high chooser, hear me!

Rune-winning Hroptr, rowner of wisdom,

seeker of Suttung's mead, hear me!

Teacher of spell-lore, lighting our skull-clouds,

loosener of all locks, hear me!

To Middle-Garth ring, I rune thee forth,

haring from Hliðskjálf, High One, adown.

Father of folk who's fared here often,

I call thee at need, come here to my stead.

To Middle-Garth ring, I rune thee forth,

riding on Sleipnir, shining mount gray...

(fill the horn and raise it)

I bid thee with horn of holy drink,

Welcome, thou wise one... ...Wodan! - to hall.

IV. Pause a little while, until you can feel the might of the god about
you. Then sign the horn with the walknot, saying,

Wodan, this horn is hallowed to thee,

blessed, I raise it, I bid thee share.

Pour a draught into the blessing bowl, then sprinkle a drop on Aswald, then
drink yourself. Do this three times, till the horn is empty.

V. Raise the blessing bowl. Hold it silently for a few moments, meditating
on the god.

VI. Pick up Aswald and hold him high, saying.

Wodan, I give thee this chosen one here,

I give thee Aswald awed by your might,

signed to thee, Sigtryggr, Sváfnir, take him!

signed with the walknot as Wodan's gift.

Scratch the walknot lightly over Aswald's heart with the point of your
knife or spear. Sprinkle his head with a few drops from the blessing bowl.
Stand holding him in your right hand, the blessing bowl in your left.
Either speak or think of the matter in which you wanted Wodan's aid, rede,
or help, and open your mind to him in turn.

VII. Go in silence to the stead where you will make the sacrifice, carrying
Aswald, the blessing bowl, and your knife or spear. Tie the free end of
Aswald's noose over a branch and ready the blade with its tip touching the
walknot. Say, "Aswald, I give thee to Wodan!" as you plunge the blade into
him, tugging down against the hanging-rope with your other hand (if he is
made of bread, be careful not to rip his head off!). Almost at once, dash
the contents of the blessing bowl over Aswald and the tree.You should feel
all the might that you put into Aswald earlier bursting free to Wodan,
flowing out as the mead drips to the ground like the blood of the
sacrifice. Stand there until you can feel that Aswald's "life" has all
flowed out for Wodan.

VIII. Come back to your harrow in stillness, without speaking to anyone
else or looking them in the eyes. Stand in silence, waiting to see if you
sense anything more from the god.

IX. Say,

Welcome art ever, Wanderer dark-cloaked,

holy within my hall.

Hail in thy coming, hail in thy guesting,

hail in wending thy ways!

Fare when thou wish'st to fare,

while when it be thy will.

Blow out the candle. The rite is over.

Frija-Blessing

You will need a hornful of fruit-based drink (such as kirschwasser or apple
schnapps) or good wine, a blessing bowl, a light blue or white candle, a
necklace or other Frija-type gift (silver and/or rock crystal are
preferable, but household items are also acceptable - remember that you
will be throwing it into the water and try not to choose anything
pollutant). Again, you should sit with the gift before the rite begins and
charge it with might. If you use recels, they should be composed of birch,
flax or linseeds, mugwort, motherwort, and/or yarrow (not all of these
herbs are needful; this is just a general choice of possibilities).

I. Light the candle and/or recels, saying,

I light the way the worlds between,

my call in kindled flame.

show bright the path shine bright for her,

whom my heart hails forth.

II. Stand in elhaz stance, calling,

Mother of Balder! Maid of Fjörgynn,

holder of home-steads, hear me!

Blesser of bairns and birther of god-kin,

Idis of Ase-Garth, hear me!

Spinner all shining, spindle's fair turner,

flax-deep in Fen-Halls, hear me!

Stringer of loom-threads, linen's weaver,

wool-wise and Wyrd-wise, hear me!

Goose-bright and birch-white goddess in marshlands,

Seeress silent, hear me!

Queen of the heavens, quiet in fen-depths,

ørlög's all-knower, hear me!

To Middle-Garth's ring I rown thee forth,

faring from Fen-Halls, fair one, to hall,

Mother of gods, make your way here,

I call thee at need, come here, to my stead.

To Middle-Garth's ring I rown thee forth,

flying as falcon, feather-clad, here...

Fill the horn and raise it.

I bid thee with horn of holy drink,

Welcome, thou fair one... Frija!...to hall!

IV. Pause a little while, until you can feel the might of the goddess about
you. Then sign the horn with the spiral and say,

Frija, this horn is hallowed to thee,

blessed, I raise it, I bid thee share.

Pour a draught into the blessing bowl, then drink yourself. Do this three
times, emptying the horn on the last draught.

V. Raise the blessing-bowl and hold it for a few moments, thinking deeply
on the goddess.

VI. Pick up the gift and hold it high. Say,

Frija, I give thee gift for thy joy,

Hlín, I offer it, hold it thy own.

quickener of life, thou queen most fair,

here do I gladly give thee this (name gift).

Sprinkle gift with a few drops from the blessing-bowl. Stand with the gift
in your right hand, the blessing-bowl in the left, thinking deeply on the
matter in which you wanted the goddess' help and rede and opening your mind
to her in turn.

VII. Take gift and blessing-bowl to the body of water you have chosen.
Stand on the edge a few moments, thinking on Frija. When you can feel her
still might about you and sense her being in the waters, cast the gift and
the contents of the blessing bowl in as you say, "This do I give to Frija!"

VIII. Come back to the harrow in silence, neither speaking to another
person nor looking them in the eyes. Stand in stillness, waiting to see if
you feel or hear anything more from the goddess.

IX. Say,

Welcome art ever, wise queen of heavens,

holy within my hall.

Hail in thy coming, hail in thy guesting,

fare when thou wish'st to fare,

while when it be thy will.

Fro Ing-Blessing

You will need a hornfull of good ale, a blessing-bowl and sprinkling-twig,
a hallowed sax, a bread baked in the shape of an ox with golden horns (this
can be done by brushing a glaze of egg-yolk over the horns before baking,
or by covering them with yellow frosting afterward), a small shovel or
trowel, and a golden, light green, or light blue candle. If you use recels,
they might include chammomile, a few grains of wheat, barley, or rye, dried
apples, oak bark or chips, rosemary, and/or bay (not a native plant, but
traditionally used for wreathing the Yule boar and therefore thought of as
fitting to Fro Ing). As with Wodan's Aswald, you should sit with the ox
before the rite to fill it with life.

I. Light the candle and/or recels, saying,

I light the way the worlds between,

my call in kindled flame.

show bright the path shine bright for him,

whom my heart hails forth.

II. Stand in elhaz-stance, calling,

Son of Nerthus! Njörðr's son,

freer of fetters, hear me!

Battle-boar shining, bright in the darkness,

swine-mounted, ship-keeper, hear me!

Alf-god and howe-god, holy clan's father,

from mound and might-steads, hear me!

King of the land, kin-ruler's wisdom,

awesome in Alf-Home, hear me!

Gods' blessing-maker, given as oath-bond,

fro of the frith-stead, hear me!

Gold-giver, grain-giver, grith ever warding,

armed with thy antler, hear me!

To Middle-Garth's ring I rown thee forth,

on Gold-Bristled's back, bright one, to hall,

Wan-god mighty, wend thy way here,

I call thee at need, come here to my stead.

To Middle-Garth's ring I rown thee forth,

faring from Alf-Home, Fro Ing, to me...

Fill the horn and raise it.

I bid thee with horn of holy drink,

Welcome, thou frith-full one... Fro Ing!...to hall.

IV. Pause a little while, until you can feel the might of the god about
you. Then sign the horn with the sun-wheel and say,

Fro Ing, this horn is hallowed to thee,

blessed, I raise it, I bid thee share.

Pour a draught into the blessing bowl, then drink yourself. Do this three
times, emptying the horn on the last draught.

V. Raise the blessing-bowl and hold it for a few moments, thinking deeply
on the god.

VI. Pick up the ox and hold it high. Say,

Fro Ing, I give thee this ox all mighty,

my hof-ox, high-horned, hallowed to thee.

The ard's strong drawer, the aurochs' house-sib,

Gold-horned and gladsome, I give Njörðr's son.

Sprinkle ox with a few drops from the blessing-bowl. Stand with the ox in
your right hand, the blessing-bowl in your left, thinking deeply on the
matter in which you wanted the god's help and rede and opening your mind to
him in turn.

VII. Bear ox, blessing bowl , knife, and trowel outside. Dig a hole big
enough to put the ox in, feeling the earth beneath your hands, thinking
deeply on Fro Ing and feeling his might as you do this. When the hole is
dug, lift the ox and slash its throat or plunge the knife into its breast,
saying, "I give thee to Fro Ing!" As you do this, dash the contents of the
blessing bowl over the ox and the earth . You should feel all the
life-might you put into the ox earlier bursting free for Fro Ing as the ale
flows down like the blood of the sacrifice. When the ox's life has all
drained out, set it in the hole and carefully heap the earth back into a
little mound over it.

VIII. Come back to the harrow in silence, neither speaking to another
person nor looking them in the eyes. Stand in stillness, waiting to see if
you feel or hear anything more from the god.

IX. Say,

Welcome art ever, Wan-god, beloved,

holy within my hall.

Hail in thy coming, hail in thy guesting,

fare when thou wish'st to fare,

while when it be thy will.

Eir-Blessing

Since a blessing to Eir is likely to be done when someone needs healing,
the form of this blessing differs slightly from the others given here. If
possible, the person who needs healing (hereafter spoken of as the Blessed)
should actually be there, though this blessing can also be done for someone
far away. If the one doing the rite is also the one who needs healing, the
rite can be changed at the needful points (I instead of we, and so forth).
Should you wish to simply do this as a rite for getting in touch with Eir,
it can also easily be changed to follow the pattern of the other blessings
more closely.

You will need a hornful of milk (unless the Blessed cannot drink milk for
health reasons, in which case clear spring water may be used - since this
blessing is to a goddess of healing rather than a house-wight, semi-skimmed
or skimmed milk may also be used), a blessing bowl, a sprinkling-twig
(birch is best), a bread cow, a long piece of copper wire which can easily
be twisted into a simple arm-ring, and a green or white candle. If recels
are used, they should include birch and comfrey if possible.

I. Light the candle and/or recels, saying,

We (I, and so forth through the rite) light the way, the worlds between,

our call in kindled flame.

Show bright the path, shine bright for her,

whom our hearts hail forth.

II. Stand in elhaz stance, calling,

Lady of life! from Lyfja-Berg,

healer most holy, hear us!

Wise in all wort-cunning, weal aye bringing,

worker of wholeness, hear us!

Herb-crafty, kindly, keeper of life-doors,

Menglöð's maids among, hear us!

Bringer of lore of brews and salves all,

Awe-foe to illness, hear us!

Bone-setter, blood-rinser bane of all hag-shot,

warder of wholeness, hear us!

Sharp-knived and -sighted, singing the help-runes,

honey-handed one, hear us!

To Middle-Garth's ring we rown thee forth,

fare from Lyfja-Berg, lady, to hall.

With mortar and pestle, make thy way here,

We call thee at need, come here, to our stead.

To Middle-Garth's ring we rown thee forth,

from mountain faring, maid of craft, here...

Fill the horn and raise it.

We bid thee with horn of holy drink,

Welcome, thou awesome one... Eir!...to our hall!

IV. Pause a little while, until you can feel the might of the goddess about
you. Then sign the horn with the sun-wheel and say,

Eir, this horn is hallowed to thee,

we ask thy blessings blithe.

A wholeness-drink, a draught of strength,

hallowed by healer's hands,

blessed by beloved Eir.

Pour the whole lot into the blessing bowl. The Blesser and the Blessed
should raise it and hold it together for a few moments, thinking on the
goddess. If the rite is being done for someone who is not there, the
Blesser should also do his/her best to see that person becoming whole and
well.

V. The Blesser then takes the copper wire and winds it into an armring that
will fit the Blessed, saying,

I wind the ring, I weave the blessing, before Eir's bright-gleaming eyes.
Let Eir's might flow through it aye - healing in bone, healing in blood,
healing in heart and soul, healing where-ever hurt stands; driving out all
elves of ill, scattering far all spells of ill, unwinding all works of ill.

The Blesser puts the ring on the Blessed's wrist (if the Blessed is not
there, lays it on the harrow) and sprinkles it from the blessing bowl,
saying, "Eir hallow and heal you aye". S/he then raises the blessing bowl
and says,

Eir has hallowed this healing draught,

drink, and wax in weal.

All ill the draught shall drive from you,

be whole in heart and hide,

be whole in body and hug.

The Blessed drinks half the contents of the bowl. If the Blessed is not
there, the ring should simply be dropped into the bowl as the Blesser
thinks deeply on the might within streaming from the sunken ring to the
Blessed.

VI. The Blesser and Blessed lift the cow together. They may speak together
or the Blesser may speak alone.

We offer to Eir Auðumbla's kin,

this gift to the goddess kind,

with thanks for weal and wellness here,

we hail you, healer bright!

VII. Take cow and blessing-bowl to a fitting stead - a quiet place, by
choice with trees and water. Stand there for a little while, thinking on
the might of Eir. Set the cow down by the foot of a tree and pour the
contents of the blessing-bowl over it, saying,"Eir, Healer, we give thee
this gift, blessed ever to thee. Take it as you will, healing (name of
blessed) in the time and way that is best".

If the Blessed is not there, take the arm-ring back and give it to him/her
later. If this, for whatever reason, will not be possible, you should wind
it tightly about an eastward-arching tree-limb, saying, "Eir, rist thy
healing-runes on holy tree; let the ash (for a man; elm for a woman) of the
high ones grow well through this".

VIII. Leaving the cow where it is - Eir will take it through the course of
nature, as befits the manner of her healing - come back to the harrow in
silence, neither speaking to another person nor looking them in the eyes.
Stand in stillness, waiting to see if you feel or hear anything more from
the goddess.

IX. Say,

Welcome art ever, wort-cunning maid,

holy within our hall.

Hail in thy coming, hail in thy guesting,

fare when thou wish'st to fare,

while when it be thy will.

Blood-Siblinghood

The rite of blood-siblinghood is a great and holy rite of troth, by which
two folk blend their clans and their lives together. It is most often done
between two men, sometimes as a rite of warrior-binding.

When swearing blood-siblinghood, the greatest care should be taken that
both folk are well-known to be true and are-full, worthy of the oath they
make to each other - of the bond which cannot be broken except with the
death or outlawry of the other. Among other things, the tragic end of the
Völsung/Nibelung tale shows what comes of the breaking of such a
blood-oath. An oath-sibling is exactly the same in all ways as a sibling
born of the same mother.

If both folk are absolutely known to be free of any diseases (remember, the
AIDS virus can incubate for up to six months without showing up on a test),
they may actually press their wounds together and mix the blood in their
veins. If there is any doubt whatsoever, the blood should be allowed to
flow into a horn of mead and ale, in which the blending is done with no
direct exchange of bodily fluids.

In the old days, a loop of turf would be cut (with both ends still firmly
anchored in the earth) and propped up with stakes; the two oath-swearers
would then creep beneath it, born as siblings from the womb of the earth.
If this is not possible, a clod of earth may be grubbed up and cast in an
arch over the head of the two.

The gods and goddesses may be called to witness, or their presence may
simply be felt. A full poetic hailing is given in Kveldulf Gundarsson's
Teutonic Religion; however, many feel that this rite is so personal that
the use of a formal ritual beyond the act itself actually takes away from
the closeness of the moment.

Care must be taken in making the cuts. The most important thing is that a
very sharp blade be used. You should also consider the place of cutting
carefully, avoiding tendons and major blood-vessels. The heel of the hand
and the muscle of the arm are among the better choices. Only a small cut is
needed.

Troth-Claiming

This rite is for those who wish to take up the Elder Troth(Asatru). One such rite is given in Edred Thorsson's A Book of Troth, in which the formula forced by Charlemagne on the Saxon "converts" is ritually reversed. The original formula was "end ec forsacho allum dioboles uuercum and uuordum, Thunaer ende UUôden ende Saxnôte ende allum thêm unholdum thê hera genôtas sint" - "I forsake all the devil's deeds and words, Thunar and Woden and Saxnot and all unholdon ("ungracious/unholy ones", evil spirits) that are their companions". Edred Thorsson, in response, has the pledger forsaking "the angels of alienation...the services of the White Christ...and all the Christian works...the works and words of the so-called father, and his son named Jesus, and their unholy spirit!" (p. 164). This is then followed, as was the original, by a statement of trust - for the Old Saxons, in YHVH, Jesus, and their Holy Ghost; for us, in Woden, Thunar, Freya and Frey, or whichever god/esses the candidate is particularly close to. The first part of this rite has often drawn criticism for "christian-bashing", and Edred Thorsson himself allows it to be omitted, but it should be marked that it is spoken in no stronger terms than the original vow which was forced on the Saxon folk. By carrying out this ritual reversal, further, true folk reach down into the Well to touch that time at which Heathenism was cast down and rewrite that ill wyrd to a good one, as the sign of our rebirth and sig in the fullness of time. Psychologically, it also has the effect of powerfully bringing home to the person speaking it that they are really, finally, no longer a part of the belief-system which would count such words as blasphemy, and thus it can add a great awe and seriousness to the rite.  You may, thus, choose to use this forsaking as a lead-in to the swearing of troth given here.

The rite of Troth-Claiming may be carried out either as part of pledging to
a kindred or by oneself. In the former case, the whole kindred should be
gathered in a ring with the candidate standing outside.

You will need a bowl of water (by choice, drawn from a running stream at
dawn), a horn (or cup) of ale or mead, a blessing bowl and sprinkling-twig,
and a Hammer pendant with which the Blesser will hallow the Pledged and
which the Pledged will wear thereafter as the sign of her/his troth. If you
have an oath-ring, this should also be used.

I. Hammer-Rite

II. The Blesser stands in the full elhaz stance, calling,

Wodan and Thonar, Tiw and Fro Ing,

Frija and Gefjon, Frowe and Sif,

Nerthus, Njörðr, need-giving Earth,

all holy folk, I hail you now!

Alfs and idises and all fore-gone sibs,

in howes and in heavens now hark to my words!

A kinsman comes forth, kindly look on him/her,

In troth-ring of eld treading 'mongst folk.

Hear me, all, you holy ones,

both high and low of Heimdallr's kin!

Give welcome to one who's wandered for long,

Welcome in clan-ring kin, with full right.

III a. If the rite is being held as a kindred rite, the Blesser then says,

Who speaks for the one standing without? Who says that this wo/man should
come within the ring of our kin?

A member of the kindred stands and speaks for the Pledger, telling of
his/her worth and deeds. The Blesser looks at the gathered folk and says,

Do all find this wight worthy to be one of us - a shield-fellow on the
field, a mead-friend on the benches, a blessing-brother/sister at our holy
feasts?

Hopefully this has been talked about at some length beforehand and everyone
there will be willing to gladly hail the Pledger.

The ring opens and the Pledger steps within. The Blesser says,

Within our clan-ring you stand, before the gods and goddesses and all your
fore-gone kin, before the eyes of the living folk. Now Var hears your vows:
what troth do you pledge as your own?

III b. If the rite is being done alone say,

Within the clan-ring I stand, with gods and goddesses and all my fore-gone
kin about me. Now Var hear my vow! I pledge this troth as my own.

IV. The Blesser holds up the Hammer and oath-ring; the Pledger clasps
his/her sword-hand over them . At this point the words of forsaking the
christian gods, spirits, words and works may be spoken if wished. The
Pledger says,

I pledge my troth to all the Ases and Wans; to all my fore-gone kin who
dwell in the hallowed mounds and the garths of the gods; and to those
living folk who share the troth of the North. I put my trust in all the
gods and goddesses, in (here s/he may name those god/esses which are
closest to his/her heart). May they ever bless me as I strive to show forth
the atheling-thews of the true, to hold the holy wights of our folk in high
worship, and to care for my kin and the true folk about me. Thus do I
swear: should I break this oath, let me be named a warg, the worst of
wights, and cast from all the wih-steads and dwellings of men! Var and Tiw
hear me; so it is spoken!

V a. The Blesser says,

Welcome, child of Heimdallr's kin! New-born within our ring, by what name
shall you be known to the gods and the folk?

The Pledger answers with the name s/he has chosen - the drivers' license
name can be just as fitting and holy as any, especially if it is a family
name - and the reasons behind it, the hero/ine after which s/he has chosen
to call him/herself if there is one, and the ørlög which s/he wishes it to
bring. The Blesser sprinkles water upon the Pledger's head and says,

Before the gods and goddesses all, I bless you with the name (N.N.) and the
wyrd you have chosen with it.

S/he then lifts the Pledger off the ground or has a heftier member of the
kindred do it. S/he swings the Hammer pendant three times over the
Pledger's head, saying,

Wih-Thonar's Hammer hallow you! Let this ever be the holy sign of your
troth, by which all folk may know you.

S/he places it around the Pledger's neck.

V b. The Pledger says,

Thus I stand as a child of Heimdallr's kin. New-born within the holy ring,
let gods and folk know me by the name (N.N.).

Pledger then speaks the reasons behind the name s/he has chosen, tells its
story, and speaks of the ørlög which s/he wishes it to bring. S/he
sprinkles water upon his/her own head and says,

(name of chosen god/ess or, if none is chosen, Thonar) lift me up,
sprinkled with holy water, welcomed into the clan of the true!

S/he leaps into the air. S/he then swings the Hammer pendant thrice over
his/her own head, saying,

Wih-Thonar's Hammer hallow me! Let this ever be the holy sign of my troth,
by which all folk may know me.

S/he places the Hammer around her/his own neck.

VI a. The Blesser fills the horn and gives it to the Pledger, who makes a
toast to the god/esses and passes it on. Each of the folk there makes a
toast to one or more god/esses, calling their blessing on the Pledger. When
the round is done, the Pledger pours what is left into the bowl and refills
it. For the second round, the Pledger toasts his/her forebears; the other
folk may toast their own forebears or hero/ines of the folk. For the third
round, the Pledger toasts the kindred. S/he carries the horn around; each
of the folk drinks with their arm locked through the arm of the Pledger,
making a toast to him/her. When all are done and the contents of the third
round poured into the bowl, the Pledger lifts it high and says,

I give this to the gods and goddesses, alfs and idises and all holy wights
- the grith and friendship of the kin!

S/he hallows it with the sign of the Hammer and says,

Now let all be blessed by wih-might.

S/he sprinkles the harrow, the eight winds, above and below, then each of
the folk, beginning with him/herself and being sure to touch her/his Hammer
with the hallowed drops. When s/he is done, s/he pours the contents of the
bowl onto the earth.

The Blesser says,

So it is wrought! Be welcome to our kin! S/he embraces the Pledger, as does
each of the folk in turn. The rite is over.

VI b. The Pledger fills the horn. S/he toasts the gods and goddesses,
drinks, and pours a third of the hornfull into the bowl; toasts his/her
foregone kin, drinks, and pours a third into the bowl; makes a toast to
those other folk, known or unknown, who follow the troth of the North,
drinks, and pours the rest into the bowl. S/he lifts the bowl and says,

I give this to the gods and goddesses, alfs and idises and all holy wights
- our grith and friendship aye!

S/he hallows it with the sign of the Hammer and says,

Now let all be blessed by wih-might.

S/he sprinkles the harrow, the eight winds, above and below, and
him/herself, then pours the contents of the bowl onto the earth. S/he says,

So it is wrought! Welcome me, holy kin: I shall stand among you forever!

Hammer Rite

The Hammer Rite was first worked out by Edred Thorsson (in FUTHARK). There
are a few different versions of it floating around, including those in A
Book of Troth and Kveldulf Gundarsson's Teutonic Religion, but the basic
goal - to ward and hallow a stead - and the basic method - signing the
Hammer to the four or six directions, above and below - is the same. The
version given here is not especially better than the others - not to be
thought of an an "Official Troth Hammer-Rite" or anything like that - but
because copyright restrictions keep us from simply reproducing the earlier
texts, a different one had to be written for this book.

This rite does not create a magical circle; folk may pass freely in and out
after it is done. However, the person doing it should see it as ringing the
whole stead where the rite or feast is being held, as all of it should be
holy ground.

The Hammer Rite may be done with an actual full-size hallowing Hammer, a
Hammer pendant, or, at need, the Godwo/man's fist. The signing of the
Hammer should be a large, sweeping gesture full of might - as Thonar would
do it.

I. The Godwo/man faces North and makes the sign of the Hammer, saying,

Wih-Thonar's Hammer, ward us in North-Ways! All ill must wend away.

S/he turns to either the Northeast (if s/he likes to hallow the full ætt)
or the East (if s/he prefers to use the quarters), and makes the sign of
the Hammer, saying,

Wih-Thonar's Hammer, ward in the North-East (or "in East-Ways"). All ill
must wend away.

S/he continues in this manner around all eight or four directions, ending
by facing North again. S/he traces the sign of the Hammer or swastika above
(depending on personal choice, whether the rite is being done for a lot of
strangers to whom the ur-old holiness of the swastika and the fact that we
are not Nazis has not been explained, and such things) and says,

Wih-Thonar's Hammer, hallow from heavens!

S/he traces the same sign below and says,

Wih-Thonar's Hammer, hallow from earth's womb!

S/he stands in full elhaz stance and says,

From Ases' Garth awesome, from Hella's home deep, from the worlds ringed
around - all mights in the Middle-Garth meet! Hallowed is this stead: no
wights may work ill here, and holy are all within.

The Heathen kinship uses the Following as our Kindred-specific Hammer Rite: (outline form only, the Kinship will teach you the specifics in person)



Face North and draw a blue hammer saying the appropriate line. Draw a blue line to the East, a blue hammer in the East saying the appropriate line. Continue with this pattern until you've completed the circle, above and below, being sure to turn clockwise and to draw the hammers for above and below. Then facing North again, draw a red hammer on top of the blue one, connecting them with red lines as above, saying the "Hammer of Thunar" line (either for each hammer, or after all are drawn, say it once at the end). The hammers will be violet in color once the blue and red images are in place. Then finish with the "Asgard and Midgard" line.


North: "HAMMAR I NORDHI HELGA VE THETA OK HALD VORD!"

Trans: "Hammer of the North hallow and hold this holy stead!"


East: "HAMMAR I AUSTRI HELGA VE THETA OK HALD VORD!"

Trans: "Hammer of the East hallow and hold this holy stead!"


South: "HAMMAR I SUDHRI HELGA VE THETA OK HALD VORD!"

Trans: "Hammer of the South hallow and hold this holy stead!"


West: "HAMMAR I VESTRI HELGA VE THETA OK HALD VORD!"

Trans: "Hammer of the West hallow and hold this holy stead!"


Above: "HAMMAR YFIR HELGA VE THETA OK HALD VORD!"

Trans: "Hammer of above hallow and hold this holy stead!"


Below: "HAMMAR UNDIR HELGA VE THETA OK HALD VORD!"

Trans: "Hammer of below hallow and hold this holy stead!"


All areas: "HAMMAR I THUNAR HELGA VE THETA OK HALD VORD!"

Trans: "Hammer of Thunar hallow and hold this holy stead!"


Return toface North: "UM MIK OK I MIR ASGARDH OK MIDHARDH!"

Trans: "Around me (us) and in me (us) Asgard and Midgard!"









Chapter XXXVI

Symbel (Sumbel)

The symbel is a rite practiced by all followers of the Elder Troth,
probably going back to Common Germanic times. It is one of the holiest of
rites, for the symbel-horn or cup is the embodiment of Wyrd's Well within
the Middle-Garth: the symbel-hall thus becomes, for the space of the rite,
that holy stead at the Well where the Ases ride to their Þing, where the
dead and the living are gathered in a single moment of might. It was also
the most enduring of the Heathen rituals, for the making of toasts at
feasts never ceased, nor was it even driven into heaths and hinterlands as
were so many of our other folk-ways: the drinking of minne, in one form or
another, is still practised in the highest society today.

At root, the symbel is the practice of sitting (often ordered by rank;
today it is also usual to sit in a ring, but in old days folk were probably
lined up on their benches), passing a drinking horn, and making toasts,
boasts, and oaths. Speeches were made and gifts given during this rite;
alliances formed and agreements made solemn. A full interpretation of the
history and spiritual background of the symbel, especially in terms of its
relationship to Wyrd, is given in Paul Bauschatz's The Well and the Tree;
nearly all true folk who have written or spoken on the meaning of the
symbel in latter years have drawn their understanding of the rite from this
text.

Fitting behavior at symbel is as follows: if possible, folk should sit
rather than stand, though the person making the toast should choose to do
either. The holder of the horn is the only person who should be allowed to
speak, and s/he has the right to keep it and talk as long as s/he likes -
though good manners ask that no one drone on too long. Tolerance is
absolutely necessary for symbel to work well: if a toast is boring, a song
badly sung, or a poem clumsily recited, or if you do not agree with the
feeling that has been expressed - keep your feelings to yourself; others
may not share your opinion, or may feel that the heart and soul which gave
rise to the toast mean more than its presentation. There is no breach of
symbel-custom worse than breaking into another person's toast; in the days
of our forebears, apparently, that possibility could not even be
considered.

If, however, you feel that the message of a toast is truly obnoxious, you
can then make a counter-toast when the horn reaches you. For instance,
there was one symbel when a guest made a distinctly racist speech; the next
couple of toasts were odes to tolerance. Toasts to Loki are also (quite
often) followed by toasts to Thonar or Heimdallr. So long as such
counter-toasts do not range over into attacks upon the original toaster
him/herself, they are quite acceptable - one could even argue that they are
needful, in view of the way in which all words spoken at symbel are set
into the Well of Wyrd.

When a toast has particularly stirred you, it is acceptable to cry "Hail!"
or "Heilsa!" when it is over, but longer expressions of approval are also
disruptive.

If you must leave a symbel or come into one after it has started, do it as
quietly as possible. Do not walk across the ring where everyone can see
you; sneak in or out behind people's backs. The symble-ring is not an
hermetically sealed space in the sense of a magical circle, but it is a
holy stead, and distractions must be kept to the lowest level possible.

Especially in larger groups, many folk choose to keep their own drinks with
them and drink while other folk are toasting. This is quite all right: the
symbel is a merry time as well as a mighty one. It was thought uncouth to
get really drunk at a symbel, but drinking well and enjoying oneself were
very much a part of the rite. Eating at symbel, however, is and was not
done. Among the Franks, the tables were carried out after dinner when the
serious drinking began; Bauschatz suggests that food was "purposefully
excluded from the ritual" (The Well and the Tree, p. 74). In Hávamál 33, it
is told that one should have a little bit to eat before coming to a feast;
the same is often true of symbel. In fact, it is probably better to
schedule the symbel so that it falls after the main feasting.

While the symbel is basically a social rite, strengthening the bonds that
tie true folk together within a holy setting, it can be done with as few as
two or three people - in fact, some of the mightiest symbels take place in
very small groups of lore-wise folk.

Either a horn or a large cup can be used, but the horn is better: Even
after the conversion, the horn was still the holiest vessel, the link with
the elder forebears. Orkneyinga saga ch. 66 tells how the men had been
drinking from cups all evening, but changed to horns for the minne-toasts.

When the horn is emptied, it should be refilled by a chosen hall-idis. This
frowe may also carry the horn between folk, rather than simply letting it
be passed from hand to hand. It is important not to think of this as a
servile role; it was the highest of atheling-frowes who bore the drink in
the old days, as the walkurjas bear it to Wodan and his einherjar and
Wealtheow bore it to the heroes within Hrothgar's hall. The woman's might
here is not only as the source of life but, even as the horn embodies the
Well of Wyrd, so she herself is the Norn hearing and ruling over all the
words that are spoken into it. In a shorter symbel, the hall-idis should
make sure before the rite starts that there will be enough drink within the
circle to refill the horn at least thrice; in a longer one, she may pass
freely out to get more drink when needed.

The symbel has several forms, fitting to different times and occasions and
to different sizes of gathering; it has been found in modern times that it
is needful to carefully consider the group gathered before deciding which
form will be best.

Shopes' Symbel

Up to now, the "shopes' symbel" has not been formally marked as different
from others; it has just happened at random times when enough word-skilled
folk chanced to be at the same symbel. The shopes' symbel is that sort of
symbel at which everyone makes long and mighty toasts, often in the form of
poems, tales, or songs. This seems to have been common among our forebears,
as most folk were expected to have at least a little word-craft or musical
skill; for instance, Bede's account of the poet Cædmon begins with a
description of how Cædmon, then lacking all such skill, sat in a beer-hall
when the harp was being passed and songs sung, and had to get up and slink
out before the harp came to him. A shopes' symbel can go on literally all
night - and has! In a small group of folk who know the lore and have some
speech-skill, this form takes the symbel-rite to its greatest heights.

For reasons of time and interest, however, a very elaborate symbel does not
work as well in a large group, especially if not everyone there is used to
it and prepared for it. We have seen more than a few luckless Cædmon-types
take the horn after a song, awesomely spoken toast, or a recitation from
the Eddas, only to shuffle, blush, mumble "Uh...gee...Hail Odin!" and pass
the horn as fast as they could, hoping the next toast would get everyone's
mind off them. Such embarassment makes it difficult for the embarassee to
be aware of the spiritual workings of the rite. Other folk are just not
ready to sit and listen to two hours of mixed performance, and would much
rather be in the next room talking with their friends or something. Boredom
and distraction, too, do not help a ritual mood. If a large group is
gathered at a feast, it is therefore good to mark out a time for a separate
"shopes' symbel" along the lines of a ritual "bardic circle", in which
taking part is a matter of choice. Some would prefer to listen without
having to do anything themselves, some would prefer to listen to some
performances and not others; these folk might perhaps sit in an outer ring,
where they can come and go without disturbing those performing in the
symbel.

Minne-symbel

The minne-symbel is the most common form, used at nearly all Troth feasts.
This is the basic three-round symbel. The first round is drunk to the
god/esses, each person hailing the deity of their choice; the second one is
drunk to forebears or hero/ines; the third to whatever folk will. The third
round is the one at which oaths are usually made and so forth. The word
minne means "memory", and it is one of the greatest parts of
symbel-drinking - for one of the chief goals of the symbel is to put us in
mind of our forebears and the god/esses, to call forth the great deeds that
lie within the Well (thus, within the cup or horn itself) and to bring
their might forth into the round of our own becoming.

In a larger group (fifteen to thirty people), especially if it is not made
up of folk who have been in the kindred of the true for a while, toasts at
such a symbel ought generally to be shorter than those at a shopes' symbel:
occasional performances are good, but everyone feeling that they must tell
their whole life-story quickly causes the attention to start wandering.
Usually a few lines of honour or, at most, a short poem or tale are enough.
However, it may also be suggested that if the ritual coordinator knows
there is someone there with an act that is particularly well-done and/or
fitting to the feast, that s/he hint to that person beforehand that the
performance would be appreciated.

Feast-symbel

For a large group (more than thirty people), passing the horn around the
room three times and having everyone make a toast - even a short toast -
begins to become less workable. In Heimskringla (Hákonar saga ins góða) we
see how our forebears dealt with a large group. Snorri tells us that the
basic custom was that "The cup had to be borne around the fire, and thus,
when the banquet was readied and the chieftain was there, then he had to
sign the cup and all the blessing-food. First was Óðinn's cup - that had to
be drunk to victory and the might of the king - and after that Njörðr's cup
and Freyr's cup for harvest and peace. Then it was customary for many men
next to drink the bragarfull ("best cup" or "Bragi-cup" - this was the
draught of oath-swearing, as mentioned in the prose of Helgakviða
Hjörvarðssonar). Men also drank a cup to their kinsmen, to those who had
been howe-buried, and that was called minni" (ch. 14). At this particular
feast, Hákon, who is a christian, takes the Óðinn's-draught from Sigurðr
jarl and makes the sign of the cross over it. When Kárr af Grýtingi asks,
"'Why is the king doing so? Does he not want to make blessing?'" Sigurðr,
who has been working hard to re-integrate Hákon into society (and
eventually succeeded; the poem Hákonarmál, written by the very dedicated
Heathen skald Eyvindr skáldaspillr, tells of this king's coming to
Valhöll), answers, "'The king does as all those do who trust in their own
might and main, and signs his cup to Þórr. He made the Hammer-mark over it,
before he drank'" (ch. 17).

The scene Snorri was describing was probably one in which each man had his
own cup or horn, but the chieftain stood in the holiest part of the hall -
by the fire where the meat from the blessing was being seethed - and spoke
and signed the first toasts while everyone else drank with him (and those
who did not want to drink to Óðinn signed their own horns with the Hammer).
After the leader had made the communal toasts and blessed the food, then it
seems as though the focus of attention broke up, with each man making his
own toasts to heroes and kin by himself (or among a small group of
friends?). This format can be used either as set forth in Heimskringla, or
adapted to the basic Troth formula in which the first round goes to the
gods, the second to heroes, and the third at the rite-leader's choice
(something widely fitting, such as forebears, the thews and the folk who
show them forth, or the kinship of the true, perhaps). Individuals can then
continue making their own toasts informally until they run out of either
inspiration or ale.

Symbel Rite

I. Once the folk are seated, by rank or however the leader has chosen to
arrange them, the leader takes up his/her place. The hall-idis, if there is
one, fills the horn. The leader speaks:

"At Wyrd's Well we sit in stead of all might,

sitting at symbel this eve.

All holy wights hold seats in this stead,

ringed 'round the World-Tree's roots,

blithe at the hallowed burne.

Elder ways from elder times,

rise from Well to ring in toasts.

Here Ases deem, all awe is wrought,

words we speak Wyrd sets as law.

Forth froths the ale forth gleams bright mead,

the holiness brewed from heavens and earth,

from Heiðrún's horns, from Hvergelmir deep -

We drink and speak the draught of might.

II a (for a shopes' or minne-symbel)

In first round shines our speech to the gods,

we hail the highest of holy folk!

In second our howe-kin or heroes great,

the third round's toasts are ruled by our wills.

II b (for a large feast-symbel). The leader raises the horn high; the folk
raise their drinks as well while s/he speaks.

I drink to Wodan wise drighten on high,

sig to the sibs all true!

Good to the land as leader fares well,

wisdom to wielder of might,

that deeming be done well aye,

and fair go all things with folk.

Those who do not wish to drink to Wodan may Hammer-sign their own draughts,
saying something like, "Hail to Thonar - I trust might and main", or bless
them quietly in whatever other way seems fitting. All drink deeply; the
hall-idis tops the leader's horn off and s/he raises it again, saying,

Hail to Njörðr (or Nerthus, as you choose), nytt we thy blessings,

fruitfulness give thou to folk.

Well do we hail the Wans all mighty,

that ships fare all shining-laden,

wains fare heaped up with weal,

harvests all rich and high.

A ship-crescent may be traced over the horn; all drink deeply; the
hall-idis tops the leader's horn off and s/he raises it again, saying,

Hail to Fro Ing, frith-god, beloved!

weal-full world's god!

Boar-tusks ward us from woe ever,

with stag-horn shining with dew

with brightness of bells ringing high,

our Fro, bless us with frith!

All drink deeply. The leader then says,

Now hail we kin and heroes of old,

now drink we minne's might.

Bragi's cup all boasts and oaths,

speak each as seemly 'tis,

and words fair speak at will,

till feasting fares to an end.

III. To close a symbel, the leader takes the horn (in which only a little
drink should be left) for the last time, and lifts it, saying,

Holy deeming is done this night,

our words set in the well.

Now we fare forth, and folk holy all,

from Ases' awesome seat,

from the mighty Well of Wyrd,

wend all to the worlds of home.

S/he drains the horn and knocks three times upon it. The rite is over.

Here at the Heathen Kinship we use a much less wordy version, slightly less pomp and cirumstance.  We also generally let the Host of the event select the theme for all of the rounds of drinking except for the first three rounds for which our tradition is to dedicate round number 1 to a god, goddess or virtue.  (one of our gods, please).  Dedicate round number 2 to a Hero or ancestor, and finally we dedicate formal round 3 to a oath, toast, or boast.  After these first three formal rounds, people are allowed to break the circle to sneak off to the bathroom or quietly refill their personal drink, or whatever the need may be.



Chapter XXXVII

Sauna

"Louhi, Pohjolan emäntä, sanan virkkoi, noin nimesi:

'Niin mitä minullen annat, kun saatan omille maille,

oman peltosi perille, kotisaunan saapuville?'"

(Louhi, mistress of Northland, uttered a word and spoke thus:

'So, what will you give me if I bring you to your own lands,

back to your own fields, all the way to your home-sauna?')

- Kalevala 7, 289-94

Although the birch leaves have unfurled into sprays of soft green, the
lake's dark waters are still rimmed with a thin glaze of ice, and winter's
dying breath still cuts cold in the wind. Björn, master of the farm, comes
to his bathhouse weary from a long day's work in the fields. The small
wooden building's door is shut tightly, but he can see a faint glow through
a chink between the logs. He draws his belt-knife, reaching up to the
dangling twigs of the old birch tree which stands tall and fair beside the
bathhouse, and murmurs a blessing before cutting a handful of her leafy
branches and binding them together with a long supple twig.

Once inside, Björn quickly sheds his cloak, tunic, and breeches, letting
the bathhouse's heat soak into his bones. In the warm light of the glowing
fire-rocks, he can see his wife, Helga, resting on one of the bathhouse's
linen-spread benches, a fire-reddened sheen of sweat already gleaming on
her fair skin. She greets him gladly as he comes to stretch out on the
bench beside her, then dips her ladle into the bucket of water by her seat
and casts the water onto the hot stones. A cloud of steam hisses up,
dampening the air and making it feel even hotter.

In a little while, both Björn and Helga are dripping with sweat, all the
day's grime and weariness washing away in the salty trickles that run
freely over them like rivulets of water over melting ice. Björn takes the
birch-bundle he has made and begins to whisk Helga lightly with it; too
soft to hurt, the birch's leafy twigs beat the sweat from her back and
shoulders, stirring her blood so that her white skin soon glows pink and
healthy. The fresh scent of the bruised leaves rises from the whisk,
blending pleasantly with the wood-smoke that heated the bathhouse. After a
little while, Helga takes the birch-bundle and whisks her husband with it
in turn.

When they have sweated long enough, Björn and Helga rise from their place,
going to the door. They plunge out together, running out along the lakeside
pier and diving into the rime-chill water only to come up a moment later,
gasping with the joyful shock of the crisp cold biting into their skins.
The two of them swim about for a few minutes, then pull themselves up onto
the pier again, cleansed and strengthened by their bath of fire and ice.

This scene, or one much like it, must have been played out over and over
again in the Viking Age, when almost every well-appointed farm had its own
sauna-type bathhouse, even in more marginally-settled areas such as
Shetland (as at the 'Jarlshof' site). We know that cleanliness was a great
part of Nordic culture at this time; the English cleric John of Wallingford
(post-Viking Age, but working from older sources) mentions that the
Anglo-Saxon women had preferred to go with Heathen Vikings rather than the
christian English because the former bathed every Saturday, combed their
hair, and dressed well. In the Nordic-speaking Scandinavian countries, the
custom of sauna seems to have become less and less common after the
conversion, but never died out altogether, and is still practised in the
traditional way by some, as Solfrid Saue tells in her description of visits
to her West Norwegian friend Norvald Tveit (Norwegian Cooking, pp. 38-39).
In Finland, however, sauna is one of the great national pastimes, and
nearly every house has at least a small sauna-chamber in the bathroom.

The origins of the Northern sauna are lost in the mists of prehistory, but
the word is Finnish (correctly pronounced sow-na, rather than saw-na) and,
if the Finns were not the creators of the practice, it has been far more
important to their recorded culture than to that of any other European
people. The Kalevala, Finland's national epic (which contains much
religious and traditional material) includes several sequences describing
the importance of sauna as a social activity, a place for giving birth, and
simply one of the finest pleasures of home.

The good effects of the sauna are many and great. For the body, it gives a
thorough cleansing, ridding it not only of dirt on the hide, but also of
the many lesser poisons and pollutants in the system. It is the best single
means of skin-care in existence, as it opens the pores, loosens dead hide,
and forces out any detrius which has clogged the skin. The great heat
looses tired and sore muscles. Sauna also stimulates the circulatory
system, especially when the vihto (birch-branch whisk) or a soft-bristled
scrubbing-brush is used. In sauna, the heart beats more swiftly and the
blood-vessels dilate. For this reason, the regular practice of sauna is
good for the circulatory system, but people with heart defects or other
circulatory problems should get a physician's advivce before going into the
sauna for the first time, and should also be careful that the water in
which they dip after each session of sweating is not cold enough to cause a
severe shock to the system.

The heat of sauna raises the body's temperature, making it possible to bear
and even enjoy degrees of cold which otherwise would be highly unpleasant
afterwards (as when Finns go swimming through holes broken in the ice). The
process of enduring the sauna's heat and the cold bath afterwards also
strengthens the soul and the will as well as the body; some Finns see the
ability to bear great degrees of heat and humidity in the sauna as the best
proof of sisu (a Finnish word meaning courage, endurance, strength, and
stubborn will). I have heard, as well, that the sauna is a sure cure for a
hangover, though I have never had access to one when in need of a remedy
for that particular ill. However, given its general effect of cleansing
poisons from the system, the theory at least sounds plausible. Yet another
reason to have one near the ritual feasting site...

Casting water onto the stove to make steam and raise the perceived
temperature also ionizes the air in the sauna. In an electric sauna, the
ions are evenly divided between positive and negative; in a smoke sauna,
where the stove is largely made of stone with little or no metal, the ions
produced are mostly negative ions, creating the same sort of "charge" to
the air that one feels during thunderstorms. Air ionized in this way is
very good for both the body and the soul, calming and filling with might at
the same time.

The best time to use the sauna for one's bodily health is after exercise,
when the heat will soothe and relax one, helping the body to clean out the
poisons of fatigue and aiding the muscles in recovery and growth. In the
Teutonic tradition, health and strength of the body mean just as much as
health and strength of the soul; the two cannot really be divided from each
other. Thus, regular exercise followed by the fine care given to the body
by the sauna should be a part of every Northern wo/man's life whenever
possible.

It should not be surprising that something which affects the body and mind
as deeply as sauna does also has a rich spiritual tradition. None of this
seems to have survived in our Old Norse records, but Gloseki menions that
"Sauna-like sweat baths, too - so important in Amerindian cleansing rites -
were also used by Germanic healers; the technique of bringing water
together with heated rocks to produce the theraputic steam, called stanbæþ
"stone bath" by the Anglo-Saxons, is very widespread" (Shamanism in Old
English Poetry, p. 128). It is thus likely that most of the Germanic folks
knew of the sauna, or something close to it, and used it in healing at the
least. In Finland the beliefs associated with the sauna are many. Konya
comments that, "The ancient Finns believe that fire came from heaven (see
"Thonar" - KHG), and therefore was sacred; for this reason, they looked
upon the sauna as a holy place. It was a place for the worship of the dead,
a place where diseases and evils of the body were driven out, and even a
place where unhappy love affairs could be settled. Some people consider
that the pile of stones on top of the sauna stove is a relic of an altar
used in pagan times and that the throwing of water over the stones was a
form of sacrificial ceremony to supernatural beings. The Finnish word löyly
(the vapour which rises from the stones) originally signified 'spirit' or
even 'life', and the word corresponding to löyly in languages related to
Finnish is lil, which means 'soul'" (Finnish Sauna, p. 7). Although Finnish
tradition is originally non-Indo-European, both the Finns and the Lapps had
extensive contact with the North Germanic tribes, including regular
interbreeding, and there is a considerable body of evidence that the
Finno-Ugric and Scandinavian religions influenced one another to a great
degree (cf. Ahlbäck, ed., Old Norse and Finnish Religions). It is, thus, at
least a reasonable probablity that the North Germanic sauna could have been
holy to our forebears in a similar manner. Moreover, although this
religious usage cannot be supported beyond supposition for Viking Age
Heathens, the general tradition of religious and social interaction between
Finns and Norse was so strong, and the sauna so much a part of physical
culture in the Viking Age, that there is no reason why it should not be
adopted into modern Heathen practice, and many reasons why it should.

As well as cleansing and strengthening the body, the sauna is the best
means for cleansing and strengthening the manyfold aspects of the Northern
"soul". The dark, quiet wooden enclosure, hot and damp with löyly, is not
only womblike, but also recalls the trees from which humans had their first
birth and the great tree which will hide Líf and Lífþrasir within its bark
through the fires of Ragnarök. It is one of the finest places to sit and
sink within one's own self, thinking on matters of the soul. The intensity
of the heat, rather than distracting, actually aids in concentrating the
mind, forcing one to breathe slowly and relax one's body.

The main runes of the sauna are the triad uruz-nauthiz-berkano. Uruz is the
water cast onto the hot stones and rising as steam; it is also the streams
of water which run through the body to cleanse it and flow forth as sweat.
Nauthiz is the stove's fire (which, if possible, should be kindled as
need-fire) and the stress of bearing the sauna's heat and cold, which call
upon the bather's reserves of strength and will. Berkano is the sauna-hut
or room itself, where Finnish women traditionally gave birth; the
Birch-Frowe's womb in which the bather is cleansed and from which s/he is
reborn; also, the birch-twig whisk which stings the bather clean and fills
the air with the sweet light scent of spring. This basic triad can be
extended from ice to fire: isa, the ice or snow in which the bather may
roll, melts into laguz, the cold waters of the final bath which also give
the water that is cast onto the stones as löyly for uruz. Berkano, as said
before, is the hut in which all these mights are woven together. On the
side of fire, the runes are nauthiz, followed by kenaz, which is the
cleansing and shaping work of the heat on the bather, and the pure fire of
fehu itself.

In its wholeness, from ice and fire woven together, the sauna recreates the
process of the worlds' making - though one can also see it as a little
Ragnarök, through which the bather is remade and reborn cleaner, stronger,
and fairer than before.

When taking a sauna for ritual purposes, the method I have found best is as
follows. Go into the sauna, making sure it is not too hot or cool. Spread a
cloth of rough linen on the bench and sit in silence until the first sweat
begins to rise on your body. Then chant, slowly and softly,
"Uruz...uruz...uruz..." Repeat the rune-name nine times; cast a ladleful of
water on the stove; chant "Nauthiz" three times; cast a ladleful of water;
and finish by chanting "Berkano" nine times as you beat yourself with the
birch-whisk (top of head to soles of feet, leaving out no part of the
body). Repeat this process thrice over. Depending on how hot the sauna is
and how experienced a sauna-bather you are, you may be ready to get out at
this point, or you may wish to sit and consider each of these runes in
silence, perhaps using the birch-whisk again. When you are ready to leave -
a feeling you will know when it happens - go and plunge at once into cold
water. If you do not have a lake or even cold swimming pool to dip in, an
ice-cold shower is the next best choice. In wintertime, many Finns delight
in breaking a hole in the ice on the Baltic or the nearest lake so that
they can swim there after sauna. If circumstances permit, a mighty shout
should be shouted as you leap into the water or dive naked into the snow.
Move fast and thrash around. If the water is not frozen over, a short swim
after sauna is pleasant and healthy; otherwise, you should be able to tell
for yourself when it is time to get out. If your dip is in a swimming pool,
you must shower thoroughly in fresh water before getting back into the
sauna, as otherwise the evaporation of chlorine in the enclosed space can
present a serious health hazard.

After the cold-water phase, go back into the sauna and cast more water on
the stones. This time, repeat the triad along the following lines, casting
water on the stones and beating yourself strongly with the whisk after each
formula:

Uruz, uruz, uruz; uruz, uruz, nauthiz; uruz, nauthiz, berkano

Nauthiz, nauthiz, nauthiz; uruz, nauthiz, nauthiz; uruz, nauthiz, berkano.

Berkano, berkano, berkano; uruz, berkano, berkano; uruz, nauthiz, berkano.

Chant the whole sequence three times over. Again, you may be ready to leave
and leap into the cold water when you are done, or you may choose to sit
longer.

The third time into the sauna, the formula is:

Isa, laguz, uruz, berkano, berkano, berkano, nauthiz, kenaz, fehu.

This may be chanted in a weaving pattern:

Fehu, isa, kenaz, laguz, nauthiz, uruz, berkano (thrice)

or in a snake-pattern:

Fehu, laguz, isa, nauthiz, kenaz, uruz, berkano (thrice)

as you feel yourself moved. Repeat chant, whisking and casting water at
will. When you are done, sit quite still for a little while and simply feel
the might around you soaking into you.

After the last cold plunge, stand in tree-stance (full elhaz) and chant,

Above me Ase-Garth's awesome might,

Roots below in Hella's halls.

Bring your feet together and spread your arms out straight from your sides,
intoning,

All meets in Middle-Garth's might.

Still with feet together, press the palms of your hands together in front
of your solar plexus, fingers pointing upwards. Gazing straight ahead,
bring your hands very slowly up. As they pass in front of your face,
gradually form a triangle with thumbs and forefingers; follow it with your
gaze until your arms are fully stretched above your head. Part your hands,
bringing your arms down in a full circle until your palms meet again,
fingers down, then bring your hands slowly back up to the first position.
As you do this, see yourself as a shining birch tree (women) or leek (men),
rooted deep in the ground, bringing a stream of glowing white might up from
your roots through your body, up above your head as a springing fountain of
leafy branches or broad green leaves, and flowing down around you again so
that you stand completely within a sphere of white light when your palms
meet at the bottom of their path. Breathe slowly and powerfully in as your
hands move up from your solar plexus, breathe slowly and powerfully out as
they move down. Do this nine times. Finish by raising head and hands to the
sky again, blessing the gods and goddesses for the fair worlds and the
might we share.

Finally, pour yourself a glass cup (the "rime-cup" of our forebears) full
of a thirst-quenching golden beer. Trace the runic formula Ansuz-Laguz-Uruz
in the froth, chanting the names of the runes as you shape them. Lifting
the rime-cup high, sing "ALU - ALU - ALU" and drink deeply.

The full rite depends, of course, on having a certain amount of privacy,
which is not always possible. In America, the easiest access to sauna is
generally through a health club or other such place where chanting runes
aloud is not particularly acceptable. If this is your situation, you will
have to perfect your internal-vocalization skills. Such public saunas in
the States are often too cool to bring out a good sweat, and have no
facility for casting löyly. If your choice is between an inadequately
heated dry sauna and a very steamy Turkish bath, the latter, while not
ideal, is somewhat better than the former.

If you can afford it, there are several companies which make pre-fab saunas
which can be installed in your house or yard (see "Organizations and
Resources"). Many Finns build their own traditional smoke saunas, which I
am told is not particularly difficult - and a good thing too, as smoke
saunas are very prone to burning down.

The native American sweat lodge is probably very much like the earliest
form of the Northern sauna, and is even easier and cheaper to build. As
Kanyo describes it, "The sweat lodge (of the Havasupai Indians, Grand
Canyon) consists of a conical hut about one and a half metres high, set
partly in and partly out of the ground and made of packed earth. The small
crawlway is closed with a flap of canvas or skin. Several large stones are
heated on an open fire outside and shovelled into the pit when they are hot
enough. The men...crouch together on the earthen floor in pitch darkness
and sprinkle water on the stones at regular intervals (p. 6). The practice
of building sweat lodges has always been quite common among native
Americans and has also become fairly widespread in the general
metaphysical-magical-shamanic community in the past few years, so practical
information on making one in your backyard should not be too difficult to
find.

For a proper sauna, you need a linen towel to sit on, a wooden or copper
bucket and ladle for the water, and either a whisk of birch twigs or a
soft-bristled brush. The whisk should be made of the youngest and softest
branches available after the leaves have come out, cut about the length of
your forearm or a little shorter, and made into a bundle about the
thickness of an average person's wrist, which is tied together with a
longer birch twig from which the leaves have been stripped. For winter
usage, many Finns make a number of whisks in the spring and either freeze
or dry them (in the latter case, they must be softened by soaking in warm
water before use). Other types of branch may also be used: the traditional
Finnish Midsummer sauna-whisk "was made of twigs from nine different plants
- birch, alder, juniper, and flowers of the season among others" (Kanyo, p.
6). Kanyo also mentions the possibility of using oak, maple, hazel,
mountain ash (rowan), and/or some kinds of eucalyptus in areas where birch
does not grow: it is simply needful that the leaves be young and soft and
that the plant give a pleasant scent to the sauna.

Generally, a sauna will need no scent besides the natural scents of the
whisk and the smoke. When going into sauna to meditate upon something
specific or to ready yourself for a particular rite, however, it is
possible that you may wish to charge the air with might fitting to your
need. For this purpose, either a couple of drops of essential oil (can be
gotten at most herb or alternative health stores) in the water or a pinch
of herbs cast upon the stove can help in "tuning" the atmosphere to ring
true with your work. In either case, you will need very little of the oil
or herb to give the sauna the right aura.

In his History of the Goths, Herwig Wolfram comments that "the intoxicating
'cannabis sauna', which Herodotus noted among the Scythians, was not
unknown to the Thracians and probably also sent the Gothic shamans on the
desired 'trip'" (p. 107). The Ring of Troth, of course, does not encourage
or condone the breaking of any local laws by its members, which rules out
the use of this particular herb in most Western countries. For the purpose
of vision-seeking within the sauna, mugwort (Artemesia vulgaris) and
eyebright (Euphrasia officinalis) may be burned on the stones to strengthen
soul-sight, though actually breathing in the smoke is not a good idea. If
you are using the sauna as an aid to soul-faring, be sure that you have a
friend either inside or right outside the door who will be able to make
sure that you come back to yourself and get out of the sauna at the
appropriate time, since it is possible to stay in the sauna long enough to
damage yourself if your awareness is not in your body.

DO NOT, EVER try burning any part of the yew tree, or any other toxic
plant, in sauna. This can cause death. If you must have the energies of a
poisonous plant, add a single drop of the homeopathic remedy in question to
the water bucket.

The löyly water can also be filled with might before beginning the sauna,
by carving and colouring a fitting runic inscription on a piece of wood and
scraping it into the water or simply by chanting the runes and directing
their force into it. Such water can also be charged by a drop or two of a
vibrational elixir (easily made by leaving the appropriate stone or leaf in
a glass bowl of distilled water in direct sunlight for a few hours) or a
liquid condenser (see Scott Cunningham's Magical Herbalism for information
on making herbal condensers).

Sauna is best taken naked. Mixed-sex bathing is not as common as it used to
be, and now is usually seen only among families and close friends - though
nude mixed saunas have little chance of sexual overtones, as it is simply
too hot in sauna to even think about sex. If you must wear something in
sauna, it should be a loose loincloth (and perhaps a small breast-covering
for shy women), preferably made out of linen, which is the only fibre
traditionally used in sauna gear. If linen is not possible, cotton is the
next best choice. Avoid wool and synthetic fabrics.

Sauna temperature can vary considerably: the best heat for you is something
you will have to find out by experience. Beginners are advised not to try
sauna much above 80 degrees Centigrade (175 degrees F)- though most Finns
like it hotter, in the range of 100-110 degrees Centigrade (212 - 230 F) -
and to be sparing with the löyly until used to it. Younger men, who sweat
more easily, tend to like higher temperatures. The length of time you spend
in a sauna will also vary. Beginners and children seldom stay longer than
five to ten minutes at a time, slowly building up to fifteen or twenty.
Going into the sauna after exercise or hard work will probably make the
heat easier to bear, as well. Your own body will let you know when it is
time to come out - usually when the idea of plunging through a hole in the
ice or rolling in the snow begins to sound really good. If you begin to
feel dizzy or faint, of course, you should leave at once. Different people
usually need different rest periods between sessions; I usually go straight
from the cold water back into the sauna, but I have a Finnish friend who
likes to sit for half an hour to an hour between saunas.

Obviously, sauna causes some dehydration, and you should expect to be very
thirsty when you come out. The healthiest drinks to have ready are probably
those designed for replacing the water, salt, and nutrients lost by
sportspeople. However, to the Finns, the after-sauna drink is beer, and I
can heartily agree that nothing tasts better than a good cold beer after a
session of sweating. The best brews for the purpose are the pale lager-type
along the lines of, for instance, Carlsberg, with a medium to low alcoholic
content. Some Norwegians also drink an evil mixture called "Karelian
Virgin's Blood", a blend of spirits and Club Grape. Strong beer should not
be drunk too soon after sauna, nor should any stronger drinks such as wine,
mead, or hard liquor - your body will want some rest and a lot of water
before you are ready to lift the mead-horn.

Never drink alcohol of any sort before going into a sauna. You should also
try to avoid eating before sauna if possible, though if you are desperately
hungry, a light snack is all right. Finns usually expect a good meal after
sauna, with plenty of salty and high-protein foods. Fish is one of the main
items on the menu, especially salmon in its various incarnations - smoked,
raw-cured with salt, or baked fresh. Like most of the other peoples of
Northern Europe, Finns are also mightily fond of sausage and cheese with
character. This kind of food is ideal, particularly at a larger gathering
where folk who are going into the sauna in shifts and cannot eat at the
same time.

For those who are interested in building or buying their own saunas, or in
studying the subject further, there is one really excellent book in
English, still in print, which provides all the information you could
possibly want. This is Allan Konya's Finnish Sauna, to which I have already
referred a number of times and from which I got the largest part of the
knowledge here. It is published by the Architectural Press, 9 Queen Anne's
Gate, London SW1H 9BY; the ISBN is 0-85139-832-4.

"Jos vesi, votkaa, ja sauna ei auta, on tauti kuolemaksi." - Finnish
proverb ("If water, vodka, and sauna don't help, the condition is mortal")

Contributors:

KveldúlfR Gundarsson, Warder of the Lore. In Idunna V, iii, 20, Holymonth
1993, pp. 12-16.

Eric Wodening

Chapter XXXVIII

Birth

The first of the rites of passage are the birth-rites, which bring the
newborn's soul (with all its many aspects) out of the Otherworlds and the
darkness of death into the brightness of the Middle-Garth. They can be seen
as the mightiest of the rites of life, for they set the ørlög (ur-layer or
ur-law) for all the rest: name, soul, and wyrd come together.

Many religions today have strong positions on various ways of dealing with
the problems of unwanted pregnancies. The most extreme is probably that of
the Catholic church, which even condemns the conscious waste of sperm. More
moderate religions may accept birth-control; some allow abortion and some
condemn it.

The position of Teutonic tradition in these matters is quite clear.
According to our forebears, a child had no soul until its name was given -
nine days after birth - and if it was clearly weak or defective, or if
available resources could not support it, it could be set out to die. This
may seem heartless and inhuman to some today, but it stemmed from two
things: short resources and the belief that soul came with name and
acceptance into the clan. The former is especially important in considering
different forms of family planning. It is irresponsible to have children
that you and/or your kin are not able to feed, clothe, educate, and take
good care of. This almost certainly means the use of birth control, inside
or outside of marriage; it may also mean abortion or giving a child up for
adoption, as your conscience dictates. It is likewise irresponsible to
knowingly have a child who will not be capable of a decent human life.
Physical defects, or even near-total incapability, no longer mean that one
must be a burden on society - those who doubt that have only to consider
Stephen Hawkins, among others! - but many forms of mental incapability can
also be diagnosed during pregnancy. In short, there is nothing in the
Germanic tradition which would offer the slightest condemnation of either
birth control or abortion; and our practice of setting out infants who
seemed unlikely to live also suggests strongly that it is appropriate to
ensure pre-natally that one's children will not suffer from major mental
incapacity. As always, however, the choice comes down to the individual
family and, more specifically, to the woman who must bear the child. An
Ásatrú individual might choose to consider abortion unacceptable for
herself on personal grounds - but not on grounds of religion.

Childbirth was the greatest danger faced by women in the early age, and,
quite understandably, its mysteries formed a large part of women's
religious and magical practice. Sigrdrífumál 9 offers advice for birthing:
"You shall know birth-runes, if you would give help in birthing, and loosen
a child from the woman. You shall rist them on palm, and on the hand's
span, and bid the idises aid." Folk-practices include the belief that there
should be no knots in the birthing-hall - for that would tighten the
woman's womb.

When the birthing-pains start, the obvious thing to do is to make a
blessing to Frija and the idises. The woman should take a horn of whole
milk in one hand, an apple or a pear in the other, and call out,

Frija, kind queen! fair idises all,

come to help your quick kin.

Another branch your Bairn-Stock sprouts -

bring it forth bright to day,

blessed, bring babe to birth.

Mighty ghost-frowes, my Mothers, be with me,

as in the elder times,

all bale from birthing bed ward off -

bring child bright to day,

blessed, bring babe to birth.

Best of norns at need show forth

fair apples and kindly eyes,

that bairn and mother be ever whole -

bring my babe bright to day,

blessed, bring babe to birth.

She should then sign a blessing (sun-wheel or spiral) over the horn (with a
spindle, if she owns one) and drink from it before pouring the milk into
the blessing-bowl. She should set the apple into the milk, then dip the
spindle or a blessing-twig into it and sprinkle a few drops on her forehead
and a few drops on her belly. The blessing-bowl should then be either set
on the hearth or the milk poured on the earth outside, preferably at the
roots of a tree. If there is a tree on your own land that the family has
chosen as its Bairn-Stock, she should hold tight to its trunk for a few of
the pains, calling silently on Frija and the idises. The apple should be
dried and its seeds planted when and if you have lands that you mean to
stay on.

In older days, when the woman's water broke, she would start to weave or
braid a red three-stranded string with which the child's umbilical cord
could be tied off. Since most hospitals will not use a hand-woven string
for this purpose, those modern Norwegians who still keep up the practice
tie it about the child's wrist as well. During the braiding, she should
chant or sing softly something like: "Idises all shall aid me now; Mothers
mighty all help. Norns, weave weal for my bairn; wend all woe away."

In Norway, the midwife was called the light-mother or the near-mother. She
had to bring a candle near to the face of the child as soon as it was born.
This probably stemmed from both the wish to be sure that the child was
well-shaped, and also the symbolic bringing of it into the light. Candles
appear in the birthing-context in Nornagests þáttr (Óláfs saga
Tryggvasonar, Flateyjarbók), when Nornagestr tells of how he has come to
live so long. "Then there fared around the land völvas, who were called
spae-women and fore-saw the lives of men. For that folk invited them and
readied banquets for them and gave them gifts...My father did so, and they
came to him...so as to fore-see my ørlög. I lay there in the cradle where
they should speak about me. There two candle-lights burned over me. They
spoke of me then, and said that I should become a greatly wealthy man, and
greater than my forebears or sons of chieftains there in lands, and said
all that should become of me'...(The youngest Norn then takes offense
because she is not asked to prophesy and the folk there are disrespectful,
jostling her from her seat. She calls out sharply to the other two, telling
them to leave off their good foretellings, and says) 'I shape for him that
he shall live no longer than it takes for that candle to be burned up'.
After that the elder völva took the candle and put it out and told my
mother to keep it and not kindle it until the last day of my life'".

After the child's birth, the "light-mother" sometimes took and nursed it or
fed it on cow's milk; she was also, in some places in Scandinavia,
responsible for keeping a candle burning in its room from birth till
baptism, presumably to keep the alfs or trolls from getting it. This may
well have stemmed from heathen times, as the child was equally in a
border-state in the nine days between birth and naming - in the same class
as the sundry wights, and thus able to be touched by them. "Light-mother"
was a long-term relationship, similar to that of "godparent" in later
times.

Another Norwegian term for midwife was "jordmoder", "earth-mother";
"straw-mother" was also a common term, since birth traditionally took
place, not on a bed, but in a special straw-bed prepared for the occasion.

In modern times, midwives are seldom used, but there may still be a place
for the "light-mother" in birthing today. Obstetricians are used to a
surprising range of bizarre things done by families which are about to give
birth, and a sympathetic one will put up with almost anything which does
not compromise hygiene or endanger the health of the mother or child. They
may or may not let you light a candle in the birthing-room, but it is worth
asking.

If the child is born with a caul, this must be carefully kept and dried, as
it is an emanation of the fetch in the Middle-Garth, and to lose or destroy
it means to lose or destroy much of the child's soul-might. The placenta is
traditionally kept and either buried at the roots of a growing tree or put
in the earth with a new tree planted above it. Both caul and placenta
belong to you and cannot be denied you if you ask for them.

Naming

The greatest moment of the birth-rites, however, is not the actual birth,
but the naming, which takes nine days after birth. At this time, assuming
the child has not been deemed defective and set out to die - or given up
for adoption - a feast is held at which all the kin and friends gather
together with gifts and good wishes for the new member of the clan.

The center of this rite is the moment at which the father takes the child
from the mother's arms, sprinkling it with water and giving it a name.
Although such "baptism" is most often considered a christian custom, the
use of water as a purification is much more ancient. The Greeks, Romans,
Aryans, Finno-Ugrics, and Teutons associated it with some form of
initiation as well. Ceremonial use of water can be both simple and complex.
As children are born of the water of the mother, a parallel of washing away
the old and beginning fresh becomes evident.

The four elements of classical times, among those who believe that they
have a life of their own or are even animistic (such as, for instance, the
Germanic peoples) have often been venerated in their own right. Sacred
wells, springs, and lakes with reputed healing powers have outlasted all
attempts to christianize them if not to co-opt them. Superstitious Romans
believed that water could purge them of all sins. Many Indians today
believe that immersion in the Ganges will wash away all the past sins of a
lifetime. If water can wash away dirt and contamination on a physical
level, then it follows that it is possible that water can purify one on an
emotional, spiritual, moral, and even psychic level as well. Such was the
current of thought (so to speak) of the ancients. It is still prevalent
among some Pagan peoples today.

Our Teutonic ancestors had a custom of "baptism" observed by Roman writers
as early as 200 B.C.E. Among the Norse, it was called "ausa vatni"
(sprinkling with water), and signified acceptance into the family. Until
the ausa vatni had been performed, a child had no legal rites or standing
within the community, and was not even considered a human being. Even in
christian times, the wergeld for killing an unbaptized child was half that
paid for the death of a baptized one.

On the ninth day after birth the baby was brought to the father (or closest
male relative) for the public performance of the ritual, and at that time
it was also given a name. The Norwegians, Lapps, and Finns performed the
ceremony on a Thorsday. It was often accompanied with a feast given by all
the blood relatives. The name chosen was usually that of an ancestor or a
parent. The name of an ancestor (usually a deceased grand-parent on the
mother's side) was conferred so that the qualities of that person could
live again in the child (see "Soul, Death, and Rebirth"). Giving the
parent's name granted one immortality in one's own lifetime (alliteration
of names, as for instance Gjúki - Gunther - Guðrún, or repetition of a
name-element, as in Sigmundr - Signý - Sigurðr, was also a means by which
the clan-soul could be shared and reborn - KHG).

When a child was born, it was first laid upon the ground to reverence the
earth as the source of all life. The Scandinavian term for midwife,
jordemoder, means earth-mother...She then lifted the child up and presented
it to the father, who had the power of life or death over it. This power
was nullified, however, if the child had partaken of milk or honey, or if
it had been washed. If any of these things had been done, a child was
considered to have equal rights in the family into which it was born. If
the father were unavailable, the mother had the right to acknowledge or
expose the infant. Another important custom was the planting of a tree on
the day of birth. This tree became the child's tree of life and they
mirrored each other's growth. This custom has a lot more going for it than
passing out cigars.

As water is elemental in nature, an ausa vatni is a Vanic rite. The new
member of the community was thrice sprinkled with water by the father:
once, in the name of Thor; again in the name of Freyr; and lastly in the
name of Njord. By sprinkling the babe with water it was believed that the
beneficial forces of water could be brought to bear their various powers
for good and healing to the newly-born. This attunement of the child with
the element of water was also thought to protect it from the harmful
elements of water as well.

Among the Finns and Lapps, baptismal names were bestowed by the
"wash-mother" (laugo-edne). The following ceremony was then performed:
"Warm water was poured into a trough, and two birch-twigs - one in its
natural condition, the other bent into a ring - were laid in it. At the
same time, the child was thus addressed: 'Thou shalt be as fertile, sound,
and strong as the birch from which this twig was taken'. Then a copper (or
silver) talisman was cast into the water, with the words: 'I cast the
nabma-skiello (talisman) into the water, to wash thee; be as melodious and
fair as this brass (or silver).' Then came the formula: 'I baptize thee
with a new name, N.N. Thou shalt thrive better from this water, of which we
make thee a partaker, than from the water wherewith the priest baptized
thee. I call thee up by baptism, deceased N.N. Thou shalt now rise again to
life and health, and receive new limbs. Thou, child, shalt have the same
happiness and joy which the deceased enjoyed in this world'. As she uttered
this words, the baptizer poured water three times on the head of the child,
and then washed its whole body. Finally she said, 'Now art thou baptized
adde-nabma (underworld name), with the name of the deceased, and I will see
that with this name thou wilt enjoy good health' (Jessen, E.J., Afhandling
om de norske Finners og Lappers hedenske Religion, pp 33-42).

Specific legal rights were conferred by the ausa vatni as well. Both the
Eddas and Heimskringla have reference to the custom. In "Hávamál" 158, the
master magician states, "That thirteenth (song) ken I: if I shall cast
water onto a young thane, he shall not fall, though he comes among the
host, nor the hero sink before swords". In Heimskringla, we are told that
at the birth of Haraldr gráfeld, "Eiríkr and Gunnhildr had a son whom
Haraldr inn hárfagri sprinkled with water, and to whom he gave the name,
ordaining that he should be king after his father Eiríkr". Haraldr inn
hárfagri, we will remember, was the father of Eiríkr Blood-Axe; though he
had given his kingdom up to his son before his death, he was clearly still
seen as the head of the clan when it came to family matters. These legal,
social, and spiritual rights could also be conferred, when necessary, by a
man who was not related to the woman or child: when Hjördís bears Sigmundr
the Völsung's posthumous child Sigurðr, it is Hjálprekr, the father of her
rescuer, who sprinkles the child with water and, marking the keenness of
his eyes, states that no one will ever be his like. By naming and claiming
a child as his own, according to our legalistic ancestors, a father granted
protection, provision, and the right of inheritance and succession to the
father's estate.

The sprinkling of water together with the naming is also important as part
of the rite which sets the child's ørlög. The water, which should be drawn
from a holy well or running burne, embodies the might of the holiest water
of the Well of Wyrd: the drops sprinkled on the child also fall back into
the Well to set its roots firmly in that-which-is - the source of the
bairn's name and soul - and to lay down what shall become for it.

Once the naming has been done, each of the folk there should come forth
with a gift for the child which embodies some quality that they themselves
have in great store and would wish to share with the newborn. These are
usually not things the child can use right away, but things that will be
needed in later life. A common gift is a nice edition of the folktales
collected by the Brothers Grimm; other collections of folktales (such as
the books translated/edited by Jacqueline Simpson) or folk songs are also
fitting, as are copies of the Eddas. A particularly nice present for a
child is the beautifully illustrated d'Aulaire version of our holy tales,
Norse Gods and Giants. Weapons are also appropriate, though of course the
parents will have to keep them until the child reaches the age of man- or
woman-making. A cup or horn may embody both wod and the source of life and
strength. Helgi Hunding-Bane's father Sigmundr gave him a sword and a leek
at birth - the former an obvious gift for a warrior, the latter showing
forth the swift and shining growth of the hero, and perhaps also the manly
power of life to match the slaying-might of the sword. Jewelry of
appropriate sorts (in the shape of holy animals or made with stones of
particular power, for instance) can also be given. A young maiden may
receive a spindle or a cauldron; as a boy-child is given a leek, a
girl-child can be given a length of linen. Runic inscriptions can be made
upon many of these things to strengthen their working. The child should be
allowed to touch each gift (very carefully, in the case of items with sharp
edges or things that can easily be popped into the mouth).

The name-giving basically involves the father taking the child from the
mother's arms, lifting it up, saying that he takes it into his clan and
speaking the name that he wishes to give it (together with a brief speech
on the earlier bearer whose soul he wishes to live again, and, if he feels
so inspired, a statement on its ørlög) as he sprinkles it with the hallowed
water. The sprinkling should be done with a leek or sprig of oak or ash for
a boy; for a girl, it should be a twig of birch, rowan, linden, elder, or
elm. The light-mother, perhaps together with two other women, can come
bearing candles and speak for the Norns (though hopefully not as eventfully
as at Norna-Gestr's wyrd-setting!). If there is an actual spae-speaker or
völva in the group or within the general area, this person might also be
invited and asked to fore-see for the child.

Obviously much of this rite is very individualistic, but a sample ritual
framework could be as follows:

I. The Father does the Hammer-Rite. The Norns (or Norn; can be done by a
single woman) are within the circle, but completely shrouded in dark
cloaks. The Mother sits on the hearth, if there is one, or in whatever spot
has been chosen as the heart of the home. The Child is in her lap. The
Guests sit ringed around her in a half-circle. On the harrow or a small
table beside the hearth is a blessing-bowl full of water that has been
drawn from a holy well or running spring, preferably at dawn but before
sunrise (for the child's sake, this water should be warm, and should also
perhaps have been boiled a little while before the rite). Beside it are two
twigs from appropriate trees, one in its natural state, one bent into a
circle, and a taufr [talisman] of silver or polished brass (such a taufr
can either be a piece of jewelry or a flat piece of metal with runes graven
on it - berkano, dagaz, ansuz, perthro, laguz, and othala are especially
fitting, though your high [hugr - see "Soul"] may also guide you to
others). There is also a horn and drink to fill it, and a plate with three
pieces of bread. The Father has a gift for each of the Norns. There is a
basin of earth on the floor. You will need either a cradle to put the Child
in for some parts of the rite, or a trusted kinsib to hold it when both the
Mother and Father are acting.

II. The Mother says,

Idises, alfs all awesome wights,

ye gods and goddesses all,

Well-come are you, wise ones to hall,

who blessings would give to babe.

She turns to the Father, saying,

Nine months in womb has whiled this bairn,

Nine days in light has lived this bairn,

Now the Nine Worlds ween our choice to know,

Shall s/he be clan-sib or cast out for trolls?

The Father bends down to look closely at the Child. The Norns also move
closer, as if to hear him better. Trusting that the Child is indeed to be
raised rather than set out or sent away for adoption, he lifts it in his
arms and holds it high, saying,

Now hear me, all ye hallowed ones,

both high and low of Heimdallr's sib!

I hold this bairn to be my own,

a Bairnstock-branch sprung bright from me.

III. The Mother fixes the Child with a steady and loving gaze, laying the
two twigs into the water and holding there as she says,

Be sound and strong as stock of tree

from which fair twigs sprang forth!

Fruitful and joyous in frith and good cheer,

so long as your days dawn,

so long as life shall last.

She casts the taufr into the water, saying,

I lay this sign in laguz-depths,

it sinks, to shine from roots.

as ringing and bright when rinsed with this stream,

be thou, stemmed from our stock,

be thou, beloved bairn!

IV. The Father takes the twigs from the water and sprinkles the Child,
speaking the name, the deeds of the forebear or hero/ine after whom it is
being named, and so forth. As the first drops hit the Child, the Norns
should light their candles.Their hands can now be seen, but not their
faces.

When the Child has been thoroughly sprinkled or even washed with the water,
what is left should be poured over its feet into the basin of earth.

V. The Guests now come to give their gifts, each one saying briefly what it
is and what gift of soul, body, or mind s/he gives to the Child with that
sign.

VII. The Norns now come closer. The Mother swiftly fills the horn, bringing
it and the plate of bread to them. She says,

Well-come are you, women of might,

candle-bearers kind!

Holy guests, have food and drink,

I hail you in our hall!

Very slowly, showing as little of their faces as possible, the Norns eat
and share the horn between them (a single Norn or völva may content herself
with a ceremonial sip before handing it back to the Mother). They then come
forward to ring the Child around and speak their spae-sayings. The eldest
should have talked with the family about the source of the name, so that
she can speak a fore-saying based on the deeds and life of the one who bore
it earlier. The middle Norn should make reference to the gifts the Child
has gotten and how they will show forth in its life, while the youngest
should spae-speak as well as she can.

If, of course, the Norns have any inspiration or visions, they should not
feel themselves bound by these guidelines!

VIII. At the end of the spae-saying, the Norns set their candles on the
mantlepiece or table. The Father comes forward with their gifts as the
Mother refills the horn, saying,

Hallowed frowes, have our thanks aye,

good ones, I give you gifts.

The Norns take their gifts, nodding in thanks, and withdraw to stand behind
the row of guests again. The Father takes the horn from the Mother and
raises it, saying,

Idises, alfs, all awesome wights,

gods and goddesses all,

I hail you here with horn of frith,

let none be left out,

let all bring blessings here!

He drinks, then passes the horn about to each of the Guests, who may speak
a blessing as they sip from it. The Norns also share in this horn. The last
to drink from it is the Mother. Mother and Father then set their hands on
the horn together and pour it into the blessing-bowl. The Mother sprinkles
the eight ways, above, and below; the Father sprinkles the Child, then
picks it up again and says,

Now (Name of child) is named, with frith and friendship of all the mighty
ones. Let all join in the feast!

The Norns leave, taking off their cloaks out of sight of everyone else
before they come back. The feast begins.




Chapter XXXIX

Man-Making

The rite of man-making takes place when a boy is deemed old enough to be
counted among the men. Although there is no single clear sign of manhood,
as there is of womanhood, this is generally about the age of thirteen or
fourteen. The essence of man-making is that of a test: a boy must prove his
right to be counted as a man. The form in which such an initiation is
carried out will depend wholly upon the men of the youth's family, Hearth,
or Garth; no precise rite is given here, not only because circumstances and
abilities of groups and individuals vary so greatly, but because it is
important that the specific events come as something of a surprise to the
candidate. The initiators should do their best to keep him off-balance all
the way through; he is judged by how he responds to surprises and
unfamiliar situations, for one of the defining characteristics of manhood
(and indeed adulthood) is the ability not only to plan for all
possibilities, but to shift and adjust so as to deal well with events that
have not been (and perhaps could not be) planned for.

Though much of the lore of our forebears has been lost, manly initiations
have survived better than most other rites - not only in tales, but in the
folk practice of the "men's bands" of the Northern countries. Such bands
are made up of men who, at certain times (usually festivals, especially
Yule and Carnival), are allowed to withdraw from the "normal" society of
their town or village and take on wild personas, often masked. Degrees of
wildness vary: in Germany, England, and Switzerland, this is more to be
compared to the masking and "Crewes" of Mardi Gras, but in Scandinavia, and
in Germany in earlier days, there is much evidence that the men's bands
were closely tied with the belief in the Wild Hunt (Höfler). In Norway,
such bands were called "Jolesveinar" (Yule-Youths); during the Yule season,
they went masked from house to house, demanding beer and food, and when
they did not get it, they often broke in and took it. Gifts (or sacrifices)
were often left out for them to keep this from happening. The Jolesveinar
also took horses from the stable and rode them to exhaustion, and might
beat unwary wanderers. They travelled with much noise; descriptions of the
blowing of horns and pipes are especially common in Wild Hunt tales. Wild
Hunt legends of Germany, as well, speak of processions of the dead running
through the town in daylight as well as at night, and causing much
disturbance; and in the last century, there are records of both a
supernatural and a natural "Perchtenlauf". According to Höfler's theory,
these groups were bands of men who, in their masked/ecstatic state,
actually embodied the unrestful dead or were likely to have those ghosts
running among them. The berserk-bands are thought to be like groups, closed
societies of men who, for a certain time, entered into a state of furious
wod in which they could lawfully terrorize normal society.

The most typical example of this in the Northern tradition, cited by Mircea
Eliade (Rites and Symbols of Initiation), is the passage from Völsunga saga
in which Sigmundr and his son Sinfjötli become werewolves. The two of them
find wolfskins and put them on, but cannot take them off. They then
separate, but agree that if one should come on a group of seven men or
more, he will howl to call the other. Sigmundr lives up to the agreement,
but when they part again, Sinfjötli finds a group of eleven men and kills
them all. When he sees Sigmundr again, he taunts him with having needed
help for seven men, while Sinfjötli, only a youth, was able to slay eleven.
Sigmundr leaps at him in a rage and bites him in the throat, wounding him
near to death. A little later, he sees two weasels playing; one bites the
other's throat through, then lays a leaf on it, and it is healed. A raven
then flies to Sigmundr with a leaf in its beak; he puts the leaf on his
son's throat, and Sinfjötli springs up hale again, as if he had never been
wounded. Sigmundr and Sinfjötli are then able to take the wolfskins off
again.

This is a basic paradigm for a manhood-initiation. The first step is the
physical withdrawal into the wilderness in an all-male society. The second
is the soul-passing outside the realm of humanity, shown here by the taking
of the wolf-shape, in Wild Hunt legends by the masking which makes the
masker one of the wild dead. The candidate must fare alone for a time; then
he is hunted and must fight for his life. He is successful in his first two
battles, but, at the judgement of his initiator, loses the third and
experiences near-death or a symbolic death. This is followed by a healing
given to him by the messenger of his clan-father and patron god, Óðinn. We
will remember how a raven had earlier brought an apple to the parents of
Sinfjötli's grandfather so that they could conceive a child; in bringing
this leaf, the raven is clearly re-creating that earlier event, so that
Sinfjötli's healing is actually to be seen as a rebirth. Both Sinfjötli's
defeat and healing by Sigmundr, as well as being a death/rebirth
initiation, serve to establish his place in male society (and prepare him
for re-integration into normal society): though Sinfjötli is young, strong,
and cocky, it is the older man who must remain the band's leader. With this
settled, the two of them are finally able to take off their wolfskins and
come back to humanity.

Another form of manhood-initiation is the Monster-Slaying type, best seen
in the story of Sigurðr the Völsung. Sigurðr's father is dead, but he has
two initiatory-fathers - one who turns out to be adversarial, one who is
helpful. The first, the dwarf Reginn, is actually his foster-father; Reginn
has raised Sigurðr and reforged Sigmundr's sword for him, but means that
Sigurðr shall die while fighting the dragon Fáfnir (who is also Reginn's
brother). The second is Óðinn himself. Reginn goads Sigurðr on to fight
Fáfnir, reproaching his courage and suggesting that he will be unworthy of
his clan if he does not battle the dragon. He leads Sigurðr to the dragon's
path, telling him to dig a pit and stab up from beneath; he then leaves the
youth alone. Óðinn comes to Sigurðr and tells him that Reginn has given him
bad advice; Sigurðr should dig several pits for the dragon's (poisonous,
corrosive) blood to flow into. Sigurðr kills Fáfnir as advised: while
dying, the dragon is able to answer the hero's questions about the world,
warns him about Reginn, and makes a prophecy of his future. Reginn then
comes back, cuts out Fáfnir's heart, and has Sigurðr cook it. While the
heart is cooking, blood froths out of it; Sigurðr burns his finger on the
blood and puts it in his mouth. He can then understand the speech of birds,
and the birds warn him that Reginn means to work his death. Sigurðr kills
Reginn and takes Fáfnir's hoard for himself.

The basic elements of this initiation are the setting up of the situation
by the adversarial father; the isolation of the candidate, which makes it
possible for the helpful father to come to him and give him advice (and for
the candidate to make his choice between them); the actual deed of slaying
the large and dangerous creature from wild space; the gaining of lore from
it both by questioning and by intaking of its heartblood, which gives
Sigurðr the ability to understand other creatures of the wild. Finally, the
slaying of Reginn represents not only Sigurðr's triumph over the plan for
his death, but also his claiming of independence. As a child, Sigurðr had
been dependent on the guidance and wisdom of his foster-father (which had
even determined his participation in his own man-making!), but as a man, he
is guided by himself alone; Óðinn, who had given him advice several times
before, does not appear to him again after he has slain Reginn.

A similar tale, which is thought to preserve a description of how a
"Monster-Slaying" initiation might have been carried out in elder times, is
found in Hrólfs saga kraka. A great flying troll-beast has been terrorizing
the land at Yule-time (mark the hint that Yule may be especially fitting
for man-making). Bjarki goes out to deal with it, dragging the reluctant,
weak, cowardly, sniveling wimp Höttr with him. When Bjarki has slain the
beast, he makes Höttr drink a draft of its blood and eat of its heart.
Höttr is suddenly infused with heroic strength and will by this drink.
Bjarki then props the dead troll-beast up as if it were alive, giving Höttr
certain instructions. When day comes and the men come out of the hall, they
see it there. Höttr then says that he will slay it or die, but he has no
weapon; the king must lend him his gold-hilted sword. Hrólfr does so, and
Höttr rushes at the corpse and "slays" it again. It topples over, quite
dead. Höttr is praised with much surprise; Hrólfr kraki has an idea of what
has happened, but he can see the great change in the youth, and gives him
the sword for his own, together with the name Hjalti ("hilt"); Hjalti then
becomes one of the greatest heroes in the king's warband. From this, it is
thought that, in elder days, a mock monster-slaying might well have taken
place in public at the climax of a boy's man-making. Both the gift of the
sword and the new name given to the candidate are particularly significant
in seeing this tale as a description of an actual initiation; the public
presentation of a man's weapon and a man's name or title would naturally
crown an initiatory ceremony.

The various appearances of manly initiatory rites in the holy images and
literature of the Germanic folk have been written of at some length by A.
Margaret Arent in "The Heroic Pattern: Old Germanic Helmets, Beowulf, and
Grettis saga" (collected in Polomé's Old Norse Literature and Mythology,
pp. 130-199). The great trials and triumphs of the heroes of our folk - the
monster-slayers, the mighty warriors - mirror the trials of the soul and
body of the youth on the threshold of manhood, and his triumph of
achievement when he passes into the realm of grown men.

Yet another aspect of manly initiation is the recitation of lore by an
older and wiser man to the young candidate, as seen in Grímnismál and
Hávamál. In the former, Grímnir ("the Masked" -Wodan), tortured between two
fires for eight days and nights, is given a horn by the king's son Agnarr
and then recites to him the lore of the worlds, which qualifies Agnarr to
succeed his father as king immediately thereafter. In the latter, Hár ("the
High One" - Óðinn) gives a long list of redes ranging from the most
practical to the most magical, many of which are directed to a (presumably
young) man called "Loddfáfnir". Both of these take place inside by the
fire; it may be guessed that the darkness, warmth, and flickering firelight
are important elements - a sauna, especially a traditional smoke-sauna or
"sweatlodge" would probably be an ideal place for such a recitation.
Although these two examples are Wodanic, part of the inscription of the Rök
stone (as spoken of under "Thonar"), may be read as telling how a ninety
year-old man instructed a young, dedicated initiate in the mysteries of
Thonar.

With these models in mind, a general format for a man-making can be
constructed. The men of the group, or a single man who has chosen to be the
youth's chief initiator, come masked to the door of the house at dawn and
take him away, preferably to a wilderness area or relatively natural park.
He is told that he will be wandering on his own, perhaps sent on a quest
for a symbolic natural item or a specific spiritual discovery. When he has
found or realized whatever he was meant to find or realize, he should come
back to the designated meeting-point. If aspects of the berserk/Wild Hunt
mysteries are to be invoked, this is when it should be done. The candidate
is now to be hunted or assailed in whatever form seems most feasible in the
circumstances. Those who live in the city may find some high-tech version
of this (for instance, Quasar or various forms of virtual reality games)
more reasonable than chasing the candidate through the city park with
sticks. The important thing is that he must feel himself isolated, fighting
against impossible odds with every man's hand turned against him.

When the candidate has been brought to bay and "slain", he must be brought
back to life again. Völsunga saga does not say what kind of leaf the raven
brought Sigmundr, but we might guess that it was a sprig of mistletoe,
which opens the way back from Hella's realm as well as into it. His chief
initiator lays the leaf on his forehead and sprinkles hallowed water on
him, speaking his name (or new name). He stands up as a man.

By now it should be getting dark. The oldest and/or wisest man in the group
takes the candidate to a house with a fireplace (if one is available),
sauna, or sweatlodge. At need, a small dark room with candles burning in it
will serve. He then recites (not reads, recites!) choice bits of
traditional lore, such as sections from Hávamál, interspersed with his own
wisdom, things his father and grandfather told him, and so forth.

The men then take the candidate to a place where the whole group is
gathered. A mock monster (either constructed or consisting of two or three
men in a "dragon" costume, with a small flask of drink and a piece of
smoked meat hidden inside) threatens the crowd. The candidate is given a
real sword or a wooden one, depending on what kind of monster it is, and
thrusts it into the dragon's "heart". To the sound of loud cheering, his
initiator then takes the meat and drink from the dragon's body and feeds
them to the candidate. If the candidate did not use a real sword, the
initiator now gives him one, proudly announcing that the youth now stands
among the men of the Kindred/Hearth/Garth. He is embraced by each in turn.
The highest-ranking woman of the group brings him a horn of drink; other
women may crown him with wreaths or cast flowers at him. Those folk who
love him should give him gifts, as if it were his birthday (and this rite
may well be held on a youth's thirteenth or fourteenth birthday).

When given his first drink, the young man should take it up and vow "not to
be less of a man than his fathers". As Grønbech mentions, the moment a
youth had spoken this particular vow, "he had taken up his ancestral luck
and entered himself as one of the clan...A man uttering such promise drank
off a cup into which his forefathers had brewed their fate; he tasted their
hamingja of holding great feasts, of gaining victory on the battlefield, of
sailing boldly and skilfully on the sea, favourable winds always standing
full into their sails; and in so doing, he had made all feasts and
victories his own. He was now the incarnation of the clan, he counted as
the one who had achieved the past" (II, pp.193-94).

The feasting begins.

Many variations on these themes are, of course, possible. The elements of
adversarial father and helpful father can, for instance, be introduced; the
monster-slaying can be left out or, as in the Sigurðr-story, the hero's
lonely battle with the beast can replace the isolation/hunting. Likewise,
the death/reawakening can either be left out or, if the Balder-story is
followed as an initiatory model (see "Balder"), can become the center of
the rite. As with the Wild Hunt tradition, especially if the man-making
takes place at Yule, the band of men with the candidate among them may play
at terrorizing the "normal" society of the women and those men who are not
taking part before the candidate is symbolically re-socialized. The
rede-giving may be a communal, rather than an isolated, activity; and so
forth. What matters most is that the candidate be in a wholly male
framework; that he has some time alone, preferably away from all signs of
other human beings, to consider himself and the nature of manhood; that he
stands outside of society and undergoes a combative test of some sort in
which he is at a severe disadvantage; and that he is then welcomed back
into society as a man grown, with love and honour.

Once a youth has done this, he must be considered a man in all ways, wholly
answerable for himself and his own choices. Within the home, he should be
given more freedom, but also more responsibility; at Kindred/Hearth/Garth
events he has the same rights and the same duties as every other man of the
group.

Contributors

Andy Mendes

Snorri Laurelson

James Graham

Hagar Olson

Bill Bainbridge




Chapter XL

Woman-Making

A girl should undergo her woman-making during her first menses, if at all
possible, or straight away following them.

Whereas the goal of a man-making is for a youth to prove his worth as a
man, the goal of a woman-making is for a maiden to accept her worth as a
woman. In the old days, for a woman to take part in society in the usual
way - that is, to marry and have children - was at least as brave as for a
man to dare battle. Childbirth in those days was highly dangerous and often
painful; caesarians were not unknown, though they usually followed the
woman's childbed death. While medical care has improved greatly, the risks
are still there - and the maiden initiated today is more likely to give
birth than the youth is to go to war.

Since Germanic literature tends to focus on battles and warlike deeds, and
most of it was probably written by men (who were unlikely to know what
women did in their mysteries) our sources for womanhood-initiations are
much scantier than those for manhood initiations - indeed, they are almost
non-existent. We cannot be absolutely certain that they existed as such;
menstruation is hardly ever mentioned in the Norse sources, and when it is,
it is in the context of troll-women such as Geirröðr's daughter, who swells
a river into a flood by means of her menstrual blood and urine with the
intention of drowning Þórr). This may suggest something of that particular
relationship between women and the wild which Diana Paxson speaks of in her
article on the Etins (see chapter), and if the awesome might of the great
glacial rivers of Iceland is seen as stemming from a womb (albeit an
etin-woman's), that suggests that the Germanic folk, like many traditional
people, might have seen menstruation as a time when a woman was especially
powerful, and hence dangerous. However, since there is no evidence for a
strong menstrual taboo in either the sagas or more recent Scandinavian
folklore, comparative lore cannot be taken too far. Under the conditions
that prevailed in the North, in fact, the sort of menstrual seclusion which
is common in traditional cultures in more tropical zones (Buckley and
Gottlieb, Blood Magic) would have been highly impractical: a community
simply could not have afforded to lose five days of women's work out of
every month.

We know that women passed down lore while they were engaged in textile work
by telling tales and singing the traditional spinning and weaving songs.
Indeed, Hans Christian Andersson learned the basic stories which became his
tales from going, as a small boy, to the knitting rooms with his mother and
listening to the women talk as they knitted. Aside from this, we know
little else.

However, we can guess that, like a man-making, a Germanic woman-making
would concentrate on the seclusion of the candidate from the opposite sex;
on her demonstration of the qualities fitting on a woman; on the passing of
womanly lore, and finally on her re-integration into the general society. A
sample model can thus be constructed.

Whereas much of the man-making took place outdoors, the woman-making would
probably be in the house, from which men are barred from dawn onward. The
maiden is surrounded by her kinswomen and the other women of the group, who
help her to dress, brush her hair out, and so forth, while talking to her
about the joys of womanhood and the beauty and might of the changes her
body is undergoing. Rather than being isolated, the maiden is always with
the other women, fully experiencing the female community.

If any of the women in the group know how to spin, weave, or knit, some
part of the day should be spent doing that so that the maiden has a full
spindle or a nice strip of work by evening. Other crafts that might be
thought fitting to this special day are brewing, sewing, and cooking
(particularly more traditional sorts of cooking such as bread-baking). A
communal trip to a fabric store so that the maiden can choose fabric for
ritual garb is a nice idea; so is going to the grocery store to buy food
for the coming feast. Although the latter sounds rather mundane, one of the
most deeply-rooted elements of the womanly is the giving of nourishment:
the ordinary act of bringing home food and cooking a meal is a very
spiritual act by which the maiden realizes her oneness with such goddesses
as Gefjon and Fulla.

If any of the older women have warrior-training, and the maiden is
interested in learning, this is also fitting to this day: though Germanic
women usually only fought in times of the direst need, they were able to
fight. Moreover, a grown woman, like a grown man, is expected to be fully
free-standing, which means that those who are able-bodied, whether male or
female, have no right to rely on another's strength to ward them in times
of danger.

Healing was one of the particularly (though not exclusively) womanly
skills; women were thought to be able to heal both through herblore and
through magic. The maiden should be taught whatever of these matters the
other women are able to teach her. If none of them are specialists in
herbcraft or healing, much basic herbal and magical healing lore can be
gotten from Mrs. M. Grieves' A Modern Herbal and Dr. G. Storms' Anglo-Saxon
Magic, for starters.

Should there be a natural place nearby which is well-suited to womanly
might (such as a cave, large body of water, or a grove or stone that the
women of the group have claimed for their own), the maiden may be taken
there for meditation on the wild might of womanhood: she should not be
allowed to forget that she is a sister to Gerðr and Ran, as well as to
Frija and the Frowe.

At sunset, the house should be darkened, lit only by firelight and candles;
the women gather at the heart of the home to call the goddesses and idises.
Different women may speak to the maiden in the names of the different
goddesses they follow, giving her the rede and wisdom of those paths. If
she has done any spinning, weaving, sewing, or knitting, she should now lay
the piece on the harrow for Frija's blessing; as a warrior, the blessings
of Skaði and Freyja are most fitting to her; as a healer, Eir; and so
forth. The eldest woman there should give the maiden a silver spoon and a
rock crystal sphere wrapped in silver which she can henceforth hang from
her belt together. Other women may also have such gifts for her - things
such as cauldrons, candle-holders, oils and recels (incenses) blended for
magical and personal use, fine cloth, ritual jewelry. An amber necklace is
the most fitting of gifts at this time, as are the paired "tortoiseshell"
brooches which were the most distinguishing part of the Viking Age woman's
dress. If one of the older women is a warrior and the maiden is interested
in that learning, she may be given a sword or other weapon at this time.

The maiden's first duty as a woman may then be to fill a horn with drink
and make her own blessing to the goddesses and idises. When she has done
this, sprinkled and embraced the other women, and poured the
blessing-bowl's contents onto the earth, the men may be called and told
that it is time for them to come back to the house. The new-made woman
should be ready with a full horn of drink to offer when the first of them
(preferably her father or nearest adult male kinsman in the group) steps
through the door.

When all the men have come inside and both men and women have seated
themselves in a circle, the eldest woman then leads the new-made forth
among them and announces that she now stands as a full-grown woman in the
company of the idises, the goddesses, and her sisters on the earth. If she
has not gotten a weapon earlier but is willing to bear one, it should now
be bestowed on her by one of the male warriors. She then goes about the
ring, pouring drink for each person there, who in turn makes a toast to her
and gives her a gift (if they have not already during the earlier part of
the rite), as if it were her birthday. At the end of the round, she is
cheered and the feast goes on.

It will be noticed that the woman-making seems less traumatic than the
man-making, with less emphasis on the sharp change of status, the death and
rebirth elements, and so forth. This is because all of these things are
already going on inside the woman's body. Whereas the man-making is a
single intense spiritual/social change marking the slower process of
physical change from boy to man, the woman-making is put forth as a
somewhat slower and gentler spiritual/social change designed to integrate
the single intense physical event which transforms a girl into a woman.

Contributors:

Elisabeth

Melodi Lammond

Laurel Olsen

Diana Paxson




Chapter XLI

Marriage

To our early forebears, marriage meant several things. Firstly, it was a
legal commitment which ensured the protection and support of the children
and, should one spouse die and the other be left unable to provide, the
survivor; the wife's dowry was also her insurance against divorce,
reverting to her in the case of a split. In the Viking Age, the price of
marriage was quite high: the minimum amount a groom could pay was eight
ounces of silver in Iceland, twelve ounces in Norway (it became the
inheritance of the children, or reverted to the bride's family if there was
no issue). Foote and Wilson suggest that originally this gift, the mundr,
was first given to the bride's family, "probably not a purchase-price for
her person, as if it were a slave that was being bought, but rather a gift
that bore some relationship to her notional value within the totality of
people and property that constituted her family" (The Viking Age, p. 113).
In other words, young women were not thought of as burdens to be rid of, as
in some cultures, but important and valuable members of the family whose
loss was taken quite seriously. The morning-gift, given to the bride by her
husband on the morning after the wedding, served a similar role of
insurance against any disaster.

Secondly, marriage meant the continuance of the clan, which is the source
of most of the ritual customs surrounding it. In this regard, a wedding was
seen by all the family members as the mightiest event that could take
place: it made sure that the kin-souls would go on, that the line would not
fade away, but continue to thrive and grow. As seen at Signý's wedding in
Völsunga saga when Óðinn comes into the hall to thrust Sigmundr's sword
(which embodies the Völsung soul) into the Bairn-Stock, the marriage-rites
also bring the god/esses' might forth in the Middle-Garth again. As a
blood-linking of two kindreds in the persons of the children, marriage was
likewise the most powerful means of making peace between warring clans
(though even this bond was by no means always successful, as many of our
sources show).

In general, romantic love was not as much a part of our forebears'
awareness of the meaning of marriage as it is today; the chief
considerations were rank, wealth, and kin, and arrangements were usually
made between families rather than individuals - although the agreement of
the prospective betrotheds was usually considered necessary. When we see
women speaking their feelings about a wedding or making a choice between
men in the sources, their grounds are usually practical rather than
passionate. In Laxdæla saga, for example, Egill Skalla-Grímsson suggests
that his daughter Þórgerðr should consider marrying Óláfr Höskuldsson, to
which Þórgerðr replies, "I have heard that you love me most of all your
children, but now I think that must be untrue, if you want to marry me to
the son of a bondswoman - although he is handsome and a great man for fine
clothing" (ch. 23). Similarly, in Völsunga saga, Hjördís is given the
choice between Lyngvi Hundingsson and Sigmundr, and chooses Sigmundr,
despite his great age, because he is the more famous. Relationships which
are ruled by passion seldom seem to turn out well (and, oddly, seldom end
in marriage), as is the case with Guðrún and Kjartan of Laxdæla saga. This
is not to say that the marriages of our forebears lacked love; this is
anything but the truth (and, in fact, Óláfr's charm eventually wins
Þórgerðr over and the two of them do get married). However, where we see
marital love in the sagas and old tales, it is more likely to be the deep
and stable attachment of two people who have shared their lives for some
time. The relationship between Njáll and Bergþóra best shows forth the
ideal marriage: when Flosi and his men come to burn Skarpheðinn in his
father's house, and Njáll refuses to come out because he does not want to
live after his son, Flosi then offers Bergþóra safe passage. She replies,
"I was married young to Njáll, and I promised him that a single fate should
befall both of us"; she and Njáll then lie down in their bed to die
together.

Tacitus tells us that the gifts given by the husband to the wife are
"cattle, bridle and horse, and a shield with spear and sword. It is to
share these that the wife is accepted by the husband, and she in turn
brings some piece of armament to him. Here is the main part of the bond,
here the holy secret, the divinity of the marriage. The wife may not think
herself free from thoughts of heroism, or exempt from the chances of war;
she is thus warned by the auspices with which her marriage begins that she
comes to share labour and danger - the same risks in peace, the same in
times of disturbance. This is what is meant by the yoked oxen, the bridled
horse, the gift of arms: so must she live, so must she give birth"
(Germania, ch. 18). The Northern wedding bond is a relationship of both
equality and practicality, in other words.

Obviously, weddings today can hardly be carried out as they were in the old
days: most families are hardly willing to negotiate life and health
insurance, savings accounts, children's college funds, and such other
things which fulfill the same goal today as dowry and bride-price did in
the old days. Lacking the help of the blood-family, the couple's friends in
the Kindred/Hearth/Garth should work on the negotiations instead. According
to our traditions, a couple which cannot afford to provide security for
both the husband and wife in case of disaster and take care of the children
should not get married; the bride-price regulations were specifically
designed to make sure that a wedded couple was financially stable from the
beginning and thus less likely to become a burden on their families or, in
the worst of cases, on society.

As well as the mundane financial arrangements, it is also good for a true
couple to think of giving each other the sort of gifts that would have been
given in the old days. The eight to twelve ounces of silver (or more, for a
couple that thinks well of themselves), for instance, might be given in the
form of armrings of heavy silver, with the wires either twisted together
like a rope (easy to do, given strong hands and a vise for holding the ends
steady) or simply wound into a spiral coil (half-round rather than round
may be more comfortable to wear). Any jewelry supply store will be able to
provide such wire.

In Scandinavian folk tradition, the young woman sews and embroiders her
wedding dress and household goods. In the old days, the giving of great
piles of gifts by the husband to the bride and her kin was important as a
sign of his wealth-status, and open-handedness. How far one wishes to go
with this today is a matter of choice; those who enjoy the full recreation
of an historical setting at holy times may make a full pageant of it, those
who do not may limit themselves to the substance of the practical
arrangements and the usual giving of presents (silverware services, china,
and so forth) by the guests to the married couple.

A bride-crown must also be gotten for the wedding: these have been used
from early times until the present day, and were often heirlooms passed on
through the generations. Silver and rock-crystal were not rare materials,
and even a poor woman would have a small crown of bronze or copper. The
removal of the bride-crown represents the consummation of the marriage in a
form that can be done in front of witnesses.

The rings used are the traditional circle of plain gold.

Well before the wedding (at least six months to a year), it is important to
start the mead brewing. There will be a lot of mead drunk, both at the
wedding-feast and by the honeymooners in the next month; the term
"honeymoon" is supposed to come from this practice, as drinking mead is
thought to make one both strong and fruitful (an old Scottish saying has it
that "Mead-drinkers have as much strength as meat-eaters").

H.R. Ellis-Davidson has argued strongly for the use of an ancestral sword
in marriage ceremonies; for those who do not already have ancestral swords,
Völsunga saga shows the beginning of a tradition, and the scene in the
Völsungs' hall can easily be made into a short dramatic ritual. Another
suggestion appearing in Teutonic Religion is Gunnora Hallakarva's idea that
the bridegroom be taken to a mound to claim the sword, where he is
challenged by a man in the garb of a dead ancestor and must recite his
lineage and listen to the ancestor's advice on marriage and wisdom
concerning the holy clan.

According to German tradition, Friday is the best day for marriage,
probably because it is Frija's Day. If the cat is well-fed and
well-treated, there will be good weather for the wedding (Grimm, Teutonic
Mythology, I, p. 305). Traditionally, weddings were probably held outdoors:
the Scandinavian word for wedding, "bryllup", comes from the Old Norse
"brúðhlaup" - "bride's run", referring to the custom of the women and the
men racing from the wedding-place back to the hall (whichever got there
last had to serve the other drink. One can guess who usually won...). The
Eddic poem Þrymskviða, however, which is actually one of our fullest
descriptions of a Norse wedding (never mind that the bride was actually
Þórr!) seems to have the wedding taking place within the hall itself.
Weather and time of year may have something to do with the choice of
steads; long custom has early summer as the time of choice for marriage.

A Swedish wedding-formula tells us that "the bridal ale is drunk 'to honour
and housewife and to half bed, to lock and keys...and to all right'"
(Grønbech, II, p. 169).

Heathen Kinship Godhis and Gydhjas as licensed clergy, are capable of performing legal marriages. The rite given here is not required or even recommended, this is just an example. A wordy, long-winded example from the Ring of Troth.  All Heathen Kinship Godhis and Gydhjas are more then fully  
capable of altering it as needed, or of composing his/her own ritual. This
rite is basically an example from which more (the hallowing of the ancestral sword, for instance) can be built. The chief parts of it are the calling of Frija and her band of goddesses and the Wanic powers (if bride or groom is deeply given to another god/ess, then the rite's leader should be able to make the needful additions or changes); the presence of kinfolk or close friends who can speak of the thews of the groom and bride; the bringing forth of all the proof that the couple's financial arrangements have been worked out (this may be done as actual paperwork, or symbolized by the gift of arm-rings spoken of earlier if that seems too prosaic); the swearing of the oath upon sword and rings; the giving of weapons between the two; the return to the feast-hall; and the giving of the morning-gift and keys the next morning.

I. The folk are all gathered in a fitting stead, by choice outdoors in a
fair woodland around a holy stone. The Bride and her folk stand on one
side, the Groom and his on the other. The Elder stands before the stone.
The Elder does the Hammer-Hallowing.

II. The Leader stands in the full "tree-stance" (hands and head raised to
draw down the might of the heavens, feet spread to draw up the might of the
earth). S/he speaks:

Hail to Frija, frowe most high!

We call thee, queen, come to this stead,

with loving eyes look on the pair here,

grant to them joy, grith and frith aye.

Holy brides all bring blessing here,

Sjöfn, you rule, see your work is done!

Vár, hear spoken, the vows of these two,

Lofn's leave's given, lour none to part them.

Fro Ing and Frowe, and fair wights all,

Njörðr and Nerthus, nytt they your good.

Wans all wise bring weal this day,

with gods most high and goddesses all!

III. The Elder returns to a normal stance and speaks.

Now two folk stand in the hallowed stead, and will pledge their troth
before the Nine Worlds. Who stands to say that they are worthy? What deeds
have they done; what thews have they shown? Is this wedding fair to their
clans; who says that these kins are well-met?

The Groom's kinswo/man or speaker steps forward and tells of the worth of
the Groom. The other folk there may shout "Hail!" or "Heilsa!" if he says
anything especially worthy. He finishes with the presentation of the actual
paperwork for insurance, savings, and so forth, or the gift of rings
representing it. The Bride's kinswo/man or speaker then does the same for
her, presenting her paperwork and accepting the Groom's materials or gift.

IV. The Elder beckons the Bride and Groom forward. They bear the weapons
which they mean to give one another; if a beloved child has not been chosen
to bear the rings for them, they also carry those. The Elder speaks.

Your worth has been weighed and well are you matched

before the awesome ones' eyes.

What oaths do you swear that ætts be mingled,

and mighty grow kind of your kins?

V. The Bride and Groom touch their rings together upon the hilt of the
Groom's ancestral sword and speak the oaths that they have earlier written
as most fitting to themselves. The Groom speaks.

Ring and sword I share with you,

own my oath and soul.

Bright my bride, I bring thee all

my heart and hold and hopes.

He gives her the sword and puts the ring on her finger. The Bride speaks.

Ring and sword/spear/sax I share with you,

own my oath and soul,

Husband heart-dear I hold with you

our heart and hold and hopes.

She puts the ring on his finger and gives him the weapon she has brought.

VI. While the oaths are sworn, the Elder fills the horn with ale. When the
Bride and Groom have finished, the Elder lifts the horn in his/her left
hand, the Hammer in her/his right. The Bride and Groom clasp hands and the
Elder swings the Hammer deosil over the two of them, saying,

"Hammer hallow bride and groom!"

The Elder then swings the Hammer deosil over the horn, saying,

With blessed draught of bridal ale

we hail the holy folk.

You Ases and Wans you alfs and wights,

we drink to all delights,

we wassail wedding-pair.

The Elder raises the horn and makes a toast to the two there. The horn is
passed around the ring; each person in turn toasts the wedding-couple.

VII. When the horn has finished its rounds, the Elder pours what is left
into the blessing-bowl and fills it again. S/he swings the Hammer deosil
over it, saying,

Bride and husband bound by oaths,

we hail you, holy folk.

Gladly bound and glee-full wed,

this draught seals your delights,

wassail for wedding pair.

The Bride drinks, then the Groom. Together they pour what is left into the
blessing bowl. The Godhi(Gydhja) dips the blessing-twig into the bowl and sprinkles
the two of them together, touching their wedding-rings and the hilts of
their weapons with the wet twig as well.

VIII. The Godhi(Gydhja) lifts the blessing-bowl high and speaks.

Fro Ing and Frowe, we hail you! Frija fair, and all your maids, we bless!
From Lyfja-Berg, bright women look blithely here! Thonar has hallowed; Sif
brings sib joy! Alfs and idises, goddesses and gods - all kin and all
friends, have your share!

S/he pours the blessing bowl out upon the stone or harrow, or straight onto
the Earth.

IX. The Godhi(Gydhja) speaks:

Now the wedding is wrought - now fare all to feast!

The Bride's women and the Groom's men race back to the hall or to a point
agreed on earlier. The losers will serve the winners' drink for the rest of
the evening.

The Bride serves the first drink to the Groom, saying,

I bring you joy, boar of helmets,

I give you fruitfulness full.

Rede I bring you runed in the draught,

love to last while we live,

help to hold you at need.

The Groom takes the cup and raises it to her, saying,

I drink to are all our days,

housewife and half-bed, happiness ever.

To lock and keys to caring and joy,

and to right all shall I hold true.

The rest of the day and early part of the evening are spent in feasting and
merriment. When it is dark and late enough, the Bride and Groom are
escorted to their chamber by candlelight, amid rowdy songs and jokes. The
Groom then takes the Bride's crown off and they kiss. The two are left
alone, although if the group insists on being really traditional, they will
stand about outside the door shouting ribald suggestions.

X. When the two wake up the next morning, the Groom should give the Bride
her morning-gift and a bunch of keys which she will henceforth wear
dangling from her belt as part of her ritual garb, as a sign that she is a
wedded house-frowe and the queen of the home.

As the Ring of Troth has a very clear stance on the matter of homosexuality
- namely, that we do not accept discrimination of any sort on the grounds
of sexual preference - it follows that it is considered fitting for a
handfasting rite of this sort to be carried out between persons of the same
gender. If this is done, the line "Bright my bride" may be replaced with
"Beloved bright"; "Husband heart-dear" may be replaced with "Heart's holy
dear"; and "Bride and groom" and "Bride and husband" may be replaced with
"Blessed and beloved". All gifts, the house-keys, and so forth may be given
on even terms, or the couple may decide that it is more appropriate for one
to pay mundr, u.s.w. to the other. Likewise with the drink-toasts: you may
choose roles, or each speak both parts to the other.

It is highly unfitting, unacceptable, and offensive to use the word ergi,
or any of the related terms, in the context of a gay handfasting, unless
the two being married request it due to a specific magical/spiritual reason
for this usage.

Although the symbolism of the wedding, particularly the claiming and
passing of the ancestral sword, is specifically based on the idea of
continuance of the family line, it does not follow that wedding vows are
necessarily invalidated by the failure to produce children, nor that mixed
couples who do not intend to bear should not be allowed to marry; and
therefore, there can be no objections raised to a same-gender wedding on
these grounds. The rite still acts as a spiritual binding of two persons,
and through them, two clans. It must hence be treated with the same
seriousness and in the same manner as a mixed-gender wedding.

Where objections are raised by others, the couple should make a special
prayer to Frija's handmaiden Lofn who "is so mild and good to call upon,
that she gets leave from All-Father and Frigg for folk to come together,
women and men (plural in the original - so that it may easily be read as
referring to lesbians and gays as well as to straights), although it is
banned or denied".

Pure traditionalists of the same gender may, however, consider a rite of
blood-siblinghood (which was the usual life-long commitment rite between
persons of the same sex among our forebears) to be more fitting to them
than an actual marriage ritual. This is the rite that would have been done
in the elder days; today, however, the choice is wholly up to the two
involved.

Contributors

KveldúlfR Gundarsson, greatly indebted to the work of Gunnora Hallakarva
and her paper on Germanic marriage customs which collected together much of
the information given here. "Tryggva væri konan, ef..."




Chapter XLII

Burial Rites

The Heathen Kinship is certainly qualified to perform burials as well as weddings, naming rites, rites of passage, and whatsoever rites may be needed.

The first thing true folk must do to prepare for their need-farings is to
leave written instructions in their wills that they wish to be buried by
the Troth. This is especially important if their families are Christians or
members of other religions with strong beliefs about burial and the
afterlife. If written instructions in a legal context are not left, the
family will almost certainly be able to do as they please with the body.
Most of us would strongly dislike the idea of being buried under a marble
cross! In this context, those who have children who would rather have them
raised by other known, trusted Heathens (specific folk, who have earlier
agreed to take on the duty in case of need, must be chosen) than by
fundamentalist family members should also have something to this effect
written in their wills - even if they suffer from no sign of ill health or
danger; accidents can happen at any time.

Although the Heathen Kinship has no official burial grounds, this will change
as we buy more lands and build our Hofs. Mounds were long known by our
forebears to be holy steads; in the next hundred years, Asatruar will
again be able to make blessings to the worshipful dead - the first folk of
the Troth - at the howe-fields around the hofs. As fully accredited
ministers, Godhi(Gydhjas) and Godwo/men are legally qualified to perform burial
rites as well as weddings for the Heathen Kinship.

As spoken of in the chapter on "Soul, Death, and Rebirth", the burial
customs of our forebears varied greatly. In Scandinavia, the common
practice was to bury the dead in mounds; mounds were also raised over those
who had been burnt, as was the case with the great howes at Gamla Uppsala,
for instance. During the first few hundred years of the Common Era, the
Germanic tribes had largely lost this practice: the dead were both burnt
and buried (though burial was more common, and the only form used by some
tribes, such as the Burgundians). Among many tribes, the dwelling above the
ground was replaced by a wooden chamber below the ground; this was the case
with the Alamanns, for instance, who built quite elaborate chambers. The
Franks commonly buried their dead in neat rows, not unlike the layout of
most cemeteries today; they, too, sometimes built wooden burial chambers
beneath the ground. While the Goths knew two words that seem to describe
mound burials - hlaiw (from the common Germanic word for a mound, which
itself may originally mean "dwelling") and aurahjom ("heap of gravel"),
they had largely lost this practice in the course of their migrations:
Gothic graves are normally flat. Another form of cemetery was the urnfield
(Grundy, The Cult of Óðinn: God of Death?).

Some Anglo-Saxon graves are marked by postholes or beam-slots at the
corners of the grave, suggesting that small huts or shrines were raised
over the individual graves; others are surrounded by penannular or
ring-shaped ditches, some of which have preserved stake-holes that show
that the grave was originally ringed by a fence. The gap in penannular
fences was sometimes marked by a larger post-hole, which may have held
something such as one of the god-staffs with a head carved at the top such
as ibn Fadlan described for the Rus (Wilson, Anglo-Saxon Paganism, pp.
53-63). If a true wo/man's body must be buried in a secular (or even, gods
help us, a christian) cemetery, the setting up of such a covering
structure, small ring of stakes, and/or god-post is one way in which the
grave could be set apart as hallowed.

Another common form of burial among the Anglo-Saxons was the cremation/urn
burial, and quite large urnfields have been found. The pottery containers
were often decorated with holy emblems such as swastikas and Tiwaz-runes;
pots from Lovedon Hill and Spong Hill bore runic inscriptions (Wilson, pp.
147-49). Wyrms and animal figures were not uncommon; one pot from
Caistor-by-Norwich shows a large dog or wolf apparently barking at a
retreating ship, and it has been suggested that this has something to do
with the events of Ragnarök, with the wolf being Fenrir and the ship being
that steered by Loki.

Burning and burial were both known in the Viking Age; because Snorri says
in Ynglinga saga that Óðinn introduced the custom of burning, and given the
reference in ibn Fadlan's account to the dead man's Lord sending the wind
to fan the flames of his pyre and take him straight away to "Paradise" (see
"Soul, Death, and Rebirth"), it is usually taken that cremation is more
fitting for the followers of Wodan (and perhaps the other Ases as well),
while burial, especially howe-burial, is more fitting to the Wans - Snorri
specifically mentions that Freyr introduced the custom of mound-burial. The
Icelandic sagas seldom mention cremation otherwise; this likely stems from
the simple fact that, even at the time of the settlement, the "woods" that
covered Iceland were little scrub birches, and the amount of wood needed to
burn a human body would have been prohibitive except in cases where a
draugr was a major threat to the community.

Given this range, it follows that the most common means of burial in the
West today - flat inhumation and cremation - are both well-set within the
traditions of the Troth. The only modern custom which is not particularly
fitting is that of scattering ashes; this was done only when there was
reason to think that the dead person would walk again (often because he had
been walking and making trouble) - and even then it was not always
successful, as the story of Þórólfr Twist-Foot from Eyrbyggja saga shows.
Cremation urns were usually buried, or at least those which have survived
have all been from burials. This means of dealing with the dead offers the
simplest way of carrying out the traditional practice of keeping the kin by
the stead; it is unlikely that one will be allowed to bury a body in a
mound in the backyard, but there is no difficulty, legal or otherwise, in
heaping a small howe over a cremation urn and grave-gifts.

The setting of runestones or memorial picture-stones was deeply important
to Northern beliefs about the dead, as it was through these that the dead
could be remembered forever. As Hávamál 72 says, "Better to have a son,
though he be born after the warrior is gone; memorial stones seldom stand
by the road, unless raised by kinsman for kin." It was by no means definite
that the stone had to be set on top of the burial as a grave-marker. Some
runestones, such as the Eggjum stone, were set within the mound, and
apparently meant to affect the dead or protect them from anyone who might
break into the grave (but nothing stops an archæologist!). Others, such as
the Swedish group commemorating the men who "fell in the East with Ingvi",
memorialize folk whose bodies are far away. The Gotlandic picture-stones
are not generally found in association with actual graves, either; and they
seem to be not only memorials (and some of them bear runic inscriptions
making it clear that they are), but some of them also appear to describe
the expected afterlife of the dead man. Runestones can be set upon the
grave as markers, and if the body must be buried among other folk, this
probably should be done. They can also be put up on your own lands or at
public gathering places. In the old days, stringent curses were often
carved into the stone against anyone who should break or disturb it, and
(what with one thing and another) this is not a bad idea now. We would also
advise against setting smaller or less firmly-rooted stones where vandals
or thieves can get hold of them - odd as it may sound, people have had
small runestones stolen in the past few years. Limestone is probably the
ideal medium for a runestone, being soft enough to carve with relative
ease, but durable enough to hold its images for a long time - most of the
Gotlandic picture stones, for instance, are limestone. A Godhi/Gydhja should
be able to design a fitting runestone or picture-stone at need. As far as
the carving is concerned, anyone with moderate artistic skill and a little
practice should be able to execute it. However, if there is some doubt, it
should be remembered that there is a fairly strong body of evidence to the
effect that the craftsmen who actually did runic inscriptions (as on
bracteates or runestones) were not necessarily runemasters themselves,
which suggests that a mundane stonecarver can be hired if necessary. If you
do this for a runic inscription, you do need to oversee the person
carefully, as a lot of the staves look an awful lot alike to non-runesters.
This is thought to be one explanation for the great number of surviving
"nonsense inscriptions". The raising of the runestone, and whatever rites
seem fitting to that, was usually done nine months to a year after the
death.

Likely the most common element in all Germanic burials - from the eldest
days to the end of the Viking Age, from Scandinavia to Italy - was the
setting of grave-goods. This practice (beginning at the dawn of humanity
and common to many more peoples than our own) was based on the belief that
the dead still lived in some way, and would need not only food and drink,
but weapons, tools, and all those things they had enjoyed in their
lifetimes. Grave-goods were given to both the burned and the buried; Snorri
tells us (and we can probably trust his account of the belief, though we
may be dubious about what he says of its origins) that Óðinn decreed "that
everyone should come to Valhöll with the same wealth that he had on the
bale-fire; and he should also enjoy that which he had hidden in the earth
himself" (Ynglinga saga, ch. 8). Sometimes the goods themselves were
cremated, and sometimes set in the grave with the urn after the body had
been burnt. The description of Beowulf's funeral has both: Beowulf's pyre
is "hung with helm, with battle-boards, with bright byrnies" (lines
3139-40), and Wiglaf says earlier that the treasure must "melt with the
brave-one...the fire shall eat it" (3011-14); but when the cremated body is
buried, it is also told how "they placed in the barrow arm-rings and
jewels, all that treasure which the fierce men had earlier taken from the
hoard (3163-65).

Food and drink, especially apples and hazelnuts (filberts, to Americans),
were very usual, and perhaps the most meaningful of gifts (see "Things and
their Meanings"). The Oseberg queen was sent off with a bucket and a chest
full of wild apples, as well as grain, loaves, and meat. Food was still
given to the mound-dead until modern times, although this likely stems from
the worship of the alfs rather than an awareness of dead humans needing
food (see "Alfs").

The dead were usually buried (or burnt) with those things which they had
used in life, fully dressed in their best clothing. Usually they were laid
on their backs; the Anglo-Saxon folk buried face-downward are suspected to
have been considered dangerous or disgraced in some way (Wilson, pp.
80-86). Women had their spinning and weaving implements, as well as cooking
utensils - the frowe of the Oseberg ship-burial had a fully equipped
kitchen. Men had weapons and armour (some weapons have also been found in
female graves); Egils saga mentions the burial of smiths with their tools,
which is supported by archæological finds. Both sexes were buried with
jewelry, with fine goods such as glass cups or drinking horns; it was
thought shameful for someone of good standing to be sent to the mound
without some treasure. Animals, especially horses but also dogs, hawks, and
farm animals, were very often laid in the mound with their owners. Some of
these, such as pigs, sheep, and cattle, were probably meant for the dead to
eat in the Otherworld; the horses, hounds, and hawks suggest that riding
and hunting would be done in death as in life.

One of the most definitely religious practices particularly associated with
cremation/urn burial in the Viking Age was the setting of an iron ring with
Þórr's Hammer pendants, miniature firesteels, and other such small iron
emblems (one ring, from Torvalla, Sweden, has what appear to be a spear,
hammer, and sickle, which may have been meant as emblems of Óðinn, Þórr,
and Freyr) on top of the urn. This was probably meant to ward the dead from
all the dangers of the Otherworld. Hammers and minature fire-steel pendants
of silver are also common, as are Hammers of amber; some of the latter sort
from Gotland seem to have been made for the sole purpose of burial, as they
show no sign of wear (Roesdahl and Wilson, From Viking to Crusader, p.
190). Small images of other sorts were also put in cremation graves: one
from Kungsängen (Sweden), ca. 800 C.E., held both a little bronze figure of
a man with a bird-horned helmet (often thought to have some connection with
the cult of Wodan, as hinted at by the Torslunda matrices in which the
bird-horned dancer is one-eyed) and another of a man in a wolfskin who is
apparently biting a snake, which may possibly refer to a scene from
Völsunga saga. Such images were found in the graves of folk of both
genders: a woman's grave from Birka, for instance, had a small mounted
warrior, another horseman, a woman's image, and a miniature strike-a-light
(Roesdahl and Wilson, p. 277). The Anglo-Saxon graves were also rich in
amulets, including quartz crystals, amethyst, horses' teeth, and, for
women, cowrie shells (Meaney, Anglo-Saxon Amulets and Curing Stones);
quartz crystals in various polished and unpolished forms were common
amulets/grave-goods throughout the Germanic world, as were also sundry
animals' teeth (especially boar-tusks) and claws (especially bear-claws),
beads, and stones.

The equipping of the dead person with the means of faring from one world to
the next has been spoken of in "Soul, Death, and Rebirth". As well as
boats, wains, and horses, the dead could also have "Hel-shoes" sewn onto
their feet. These shoes, like the stone-moored boats mentioned in the
earlier chapter, served two purposes: they kept the dead shod on the faring
to the Otherworld, and also kept them from getting up and walking about in
the Middle-Garth.

In modern times, if the dead cannot be buried in a full-size vehicle, a
model of a ship, wain, or car might be laid in the grave or burnt for the
dead person. Otherwise, the body should be readied with a warm coat or
cloak, warm and sturdy walking shoes or boots, and perhaps a staff: it is a
long, cold, and wet way to the lands of the dead.

In Norway, at the moment of death, a window or door was supposed to be
opened; if the death-struggle was especially long, a hole might be made in
the roof or someone might climb onto the roof to call the dying person out
through chimney or smokehole (Christianssen, "The Dead and the Living", p.
19). It was sometimes thought dangerous to bring the body out through a
window or a door, as the dead might remember the way back in (especially if
they were the sort of folk who were likely to walk again, such as berserks,
shape-shifters, magic-workers, and the generally obnoxious); Egill
Skalla-Grímsson, whose father was a berserk, had a hole broken in the wall
of the house through which Skalla-Grímr's corpse could be carried out. In
Denmark, houses were sometimes built with a keyhole-shaped "corpse-door"
which was usually bricked up, and opened only for the sake of bringing the
dead out. Interestingly, many rune-stones and picture-stones are shaped
like large keyholes, which may suggest that the memorial stone itself could
have been seen as an embodiment of the doorway between life and death.

It was also usual to keep an overnight watch by the body with candles
burning. In older days, this called for some bravery, as if the corpse were
going to walk again, this was usually the time when it would sit up and
perhaps even speak, as Þórsteinn Eiríksson does in Eiriks saga ins rauða
and as also occurs in Icelandic folktales. In the latter case, worse
happenings are prevented by the watcher - one maiden breaks her needle and
sticks the pieces into the soles of the dead man's feet, while another
watcher, a strong man, physically forces the corpse down.

In some parts of rural Britain today, it is still common (as it was
everywhere in Northern Europe through the beginning of this century) for
the women of the family to wash and lay out the corpse. It is, and was,
thought of as the final act of love shown to the kin.

After death, it was common to hold a wake around the coffin with much
merriment and dancing; special beer might be brewed for the funeral
(Christianssen, "The Dead and the Living", pp. 28-ff). Christianssen also
mentions how "In some districts (Romerike) the open coffin was left in the
room where they were eating and - as reported by an eyewitness - the old
women used to say in a plaintive voice: 'now you have had your last meal
with us'" (p. 34). In the last century, the dead person was given a parting
cup, the velfarskål (fare-well draught), which had a ritual of its own. In
Vrådal, the coffin was placed on the sledge or cart which would bring it to
the cemetery, and "A bowl of ale was placed on the coffin, between two lit
candles, and the contents were poured into smaller cups and handed to those
present, to relatives first....(in) Seljord, it is added that the one who
led the horse on leaving touched his hat, saying in the name of the
deceased, 'Farvel og takk for meg' (Farewell and thank you)". In Telemark
and Setesdal, the ritual extended to someone (usually a relative) giving a
longer speech in the name of the deceased, offering thanks and sometimes
even answering questions about why he had died or if anyone had been unkind
to him. Small wooden drinking cups were put in the bowl to float on top of
the ale, and if any relatives were not able to be there, some of the ale
was saved for them (Christianssen, pp. 34-36). Christianssen is dubious
about the heathen origins of this custom. However, given the character of
the Northern soul as something that passed, at least in parts, to the kin
at the time of death, it seems not unlikely that it might have been
believed that the dead person was literally able to speak through a
relative, to share in the drinking and express his/her thanks, and so
forth.

After the dead were buried, a feast was held at which the arvel
(inheritance-ale) was drunk. If the dead person had been the head of the
household, the next head of the household would ceremonially go up to sit
in the high seat. The various shares of an inheritance could be dealt out
at this time; in today's terms, the will would be read and such things as
the dead had wanted to leave to specific people would be given to them.
Toasts would be made to the dead person, and the deeds of his/her life
would be spoken of. This was a time of merriment: Grønbech quotes the
"English priest in the 10th century" (Wulfstan? - KHG) as saying, "You
shall not take part in the cries of rejoicing over the dead; when invited
to a funeral feast, forbid the heathen songs and the loud-voiced peals of
laughter, in which folk take delight" (II, pp. 184-85).

Dressing in dark colours or pale colours for mourning goes back at least to
Indo-European times. It is likely that the traditional dark or pale
mourning-clothes may actually have been meant to imitate the dark or pale
colouration of the dead (see "Hella" for a fuller description of these two
colours in relationship to death). The black, blue-black, or white mourning
garb thus strengthened the sense of the oneness of the dead and the living:
for the time that the living mourned, they shared a world with their dead
kinswo/man or friend. This is especially meaningful during the burial
rites, for this border-period when the dead are not quite gone and the
living are dressed as the dead is the time when the two can touch most
closely. It may also perhaps have been thought that for the living to
imitate the dead to a degree would keep the dead from dragging them on
their faring as companions, a fear which is usually strongest when the dead
come back from the grave, but which is always in the awareness of
traditional peoples (Ranke, "Indogermanische Totenverehrung", pp. 113-131).
According to Ranke, this border-time usually lasts for thirty days after
death.

For Troth practice, a general model might be as follows: if the body cannot
be laid out at home, it is sent to a professional undertaker for
preparation, with strict instructions about the clothing and jewelry if the
dead person is to be buried in traditional or ritual gear. The lich is then
brought back to the home and fully equipped with any weapons, tools, or
ritual jewelry that will go with him/her. The wake is held in the evening;
someone, preferably a relative, sits up with the body all night by
candlelight. The next day, the velfarskål should be done (as described
above, complete with the farewell-speech if any of the close kin or friends
are willing) beside the hearse before the coffin is driven to its last
resting place, and the rite done at the graveside. If the body is to be
burned, the rite may either be done before the velfarskål and all gifts
placed within the coffin to be burned with it (assuming that this can be
cleared with the crematorium), or it can be done when the urn is buried and
the gifts placed in the mound about the urn.

Burial Rite

The folk are gathered about the coffin (which is still open) or urn. They
should be dressed in dark colours. The Godhi(Gydhja) holds a Hammer amulet or iron
ring with Hammers, miniature firesteels, and so forth, and three apples -
wild apples, if possible. There is a bowl with water drawn from a hallowed
spring at dawn, before sunrise. There is also a horn with enough drink to
fill it three times. The blessing-twig should be mistletoe, yew, or from a
fruit- or nut-bearing tree, preferably an apple. All gifts that are going
in the burial should be ready to go.

I. The Godhi(Gydhja) does the Hammer-Rite with the warding-emblem which will go
with the Dead.

II. A Kinswo/man of the Dead (either by blood or by oath) speaks:

Alfs and idises all fore-gone kin,

hear us at side of howe!

Hallow the earth here where we lay

the lich of our lovéd sib.

The Kinswo/man walks slowly deosil around the burial ground sprinkling the
earth with the hallowed water. What is left is poured out around the coffin
or urn.

II. The Kinswo/man fills the horn with drink and raises it saying,

Clan of our clan, kinfolk unseen,

we bid you welcome your bairn.

What springs must fall, what sinks must rise,

but sib stands one with sib.

S/he drinks. If there are any other relatives of the Dead - by blood or
oath - there, they too may share in the horn; otherwise it should be poured
into the blessing-bowl, then onto the burial ground.

III. The Godhi(Gydhja) speaks:

In Ases' Garth awesome, on Wan-Home's wide ways, in Hella's quiet halls -
holy ones, we call you; our kinswo/man shall fare to your shores! Fair are
the gods' green worlds, gleaming beyond the high wall; our kinswo/man must
soon pass through the gaping gates. Wodan, open the ways; Ing, bless burial
earth. Ases and Wans, we call you all, sitting at symbel in garth of the
gods. (Name of Dead's patron), we call you, sitting at symbel in (name of
god/ess' hall. If the Dead was very strongly given, a longer call to the
god/ess may be given here - see examples at end of this rite)! Fill the
beakers with shining drink, strew the benches with golden straw, for soon
your host shall grow greater. Let the idises bear the ale, let the bright
ones ready the bed - let (Name of Dead) see the hall, gleaming beyond the
dark ways! Now hear of the deeds of the wo/man who fares forth to dwell
with his/her fore-gone kin, that you may know the worth of the one you
shall greet.

The folk speak in turn of the deeds of the Dead, as truthfully , but
lovingly, as they can. It is most fitting to have a praise-poem spoken now,
if anyone has been able to make one. When they are done, the Godhi(Gydhja) speaks.

Apples I give, as in eldest times - to set within the mound, the riddle and
gate of renewing. So the seeds of our lives sink into earth; so we spring
ever fresh from the howe - the new rising ever from the roots of the old.
Evening's reddening is morning's watching; life shall yet harvest what
death has sown here.

The Godhi(Gydhja) puts the three apples into the coffin or urn and fills the horn
with drink.

I raise this toast to thee, (Name of Dead), thy safe path forth and good
rebirth. Hail to you in faring; hail to you, coming again; hail to you on
your ways!

The Godhi(Gydhja) hallows the horn with the Hammer-sign and drinks, passing the
horn deosil. Each of the folk makes the Hammer-sign, saying, "Hail thee in
faring; hail thee, coming again; hail thee on thy ways!"

When the circle is done, the Godhi(Gydhja) should pour the last of the drink out on
the burial-earth. S/he speaks:

Now let all gifts be given; speak your last blessing-words.

IV. The folk, in turn, set their gifts into the coffin or into or on the
urn, saying whatever they have to say to the Dead.

V. The Godhi(Gydhja) speaks:

The tide is rising; the ship is waiting; the gray steed stands on the
shore. Now, (Name of Dead), you must set your feet towards the paths that
lead to the lands beyond the Middle-Garth's ring.

The Godhi(Gydhja) raises the Hammer pendant or iron ring, saying.

Thonar, Warder, we call upon thee! Your Hammer hallows the howe; your
Hammer hallows the dead. The Godhi(Gydhja) swings the Hammer above both coffin /urn
and burial site. Ward (Name of Dead) against the writhing wyrm; ward (Name
of Dead) against the greedy wolf; ward (Name of Dead) against woe-wights
all. Not wyrm nor warg, not troll nor thurse may stand against Hammer's
might: Thonar ward (Name of Dead) aye! The Godhi(Gydhja) puts the Hammer on the
chest of the Dead or into the urn and speaks again.

(Name of Dead's) ringing steps shall soon sound on the bridge. Let the
thurse-maid sink before him/her, but Heimdallr hail with gladdened eyes,
for s/he is worthy of the halls of the gods.

VI. The Godhi(Gydhja) fills the horn with drink again, saying

Gods and goddesses all, we give this horn to you: bless our beloved one's
faring, and give him/her fair welcome in your worlds.

The Godhi(Gydhja) Hammer-signs the horn and drinks, passing it deosil. When each of
the folk have drunk from it, s/he pours what is left into the blessing bowl
and says, "We hail you from holy stead", then pours it onto the burial
ground.

VII. The Godhi(Gydhja) speaks:

We send thee forth to (name of chosen god/ess') hall!

S/he then puts the lid on the urn or coffin and crumbles a handful of earth
over it. The vessel is then placed in the mound or lowered into the grave,
and the burial begins. The Folk go back to the house of the dead person's
heirs to drink the arvel.

Calls to different god/esses

These calls - to Wodan, Frija, Fro Ing, and Thonar - can be used as models
for calls to other god/esses, or easily altered as seems fitting to you.

Wodan

Wodan, we call thee! From Walhall's seat,

send ravens winging their way.

Well thou know'st pathways the worlds between -

ferryman, fare to this shore!

A burden waits for thy boat.

Saddled the gray steed stands on the shore,

readied for dead to ride,

Wodan's wish-daughters wait with bright drink,

where heroes are gathered in hall,

where swords are shining flames.

Wodan, we call thee! Wrap thy dark cloak

over thy daughter's (son's keen) eyes.

Carry him/her onward to kin in thy home,

where benches are brightly strewn,

where einherjar share the ale.

Frija

Frija, we call thee! from Fensalir's depths,

thy falcon-wings rise fair.

The way through the worlds that wends to thy hall,

- light over water's ways,

finds (Name of Dead) the path through the fens.

Saddled the fair steed stands on the shore,

readied for dead to ride.

Fulla is waiting with the bright drink,

where thy sons and daughters sit,

where spindles are swirling aye.

Frija, we call thee! Wrap feather-cloak

over thy daughter's (son's keen) eyes.

Carry him/her onward to kin in thy home,

where benches are brightly strewn,

where goddesses gather, all fair.

Fro Ing

Fro Ing, we call thee! From Alf-Home fair,

let the bright boar run.

God of the world we hail thee here,

on Skíðblaðnir sail (Name of Dead) forth,

from darkness into day.

Saddled, the Bloody-Hooved stands on the shore,

readied for dead to ride.

Gerðr waits gladly to give the sweet drink,

where sibs hold symbel in frith,

where bells ring all bright with joy.

Fro Ing, we call thee! Cloak of earth wrap

over thy daughter's (son's keen) eyes.

In howe or Alf-Home, hold her/him well-loved,

where alfs and idises feast,

where no frost freezes stead.

Thonar

Thonar, we call thee! From Trud-Home high,

let goats twain gallop with speed.

Stark through the clouds shines lightning-road,

for (Name of Dead)'s strong feet to find,

where Might-Thonar makes his way.

Harnessed are goats and hauling at wain,

ready to run above,

Trude and Sif, full-trusted, pour drink,

where worthy ones wrestle, might-thewed,

where strong folk strive at their games.

Thonar, we call thee! Thy Hammer-flash brightens

with awe thy daughter's (son's keen) eyes.

Carry him/her onward to kin in thy home,

Bilskírnir, bright through storm,

where Ase-mighty share the ale.

Written by:

KveldúlfR Hagan Gundarsson, inspired in places by Oskar Merikanto's "Hell
dig, Liv!"




Chapter XLIII

YULE

"Heðinn fared home alone through the woods on Yule evening and found a
troll-woman; she rode a warg and had wyrms for reins, and offered her
following to Heðinn. 'No', he said. She said, 'You shall pay for that at
the bragar-cup.'

"In the evening was the swearing of oaths. The sonargöltr (sacrificial
boar) was led forward, folk laid their hands upon it, and folk swore their
oaths at the bragar-cup..." ("Helgakviða Hjörvarðssonar")

Of all the high feasts of our forebears, Yule is by far the highest, the
holiest, and the most fraught with might. During the thirteen nights of
Yule, all the worlds meet in the Middle-Garth: the god/esses and the dead
walk freely, trolls and alfs come into the homes of humans, and those folk
who are closest to the Otherworld may leave their human selves altogether
to become the riders of the Wild Hunt or oskorei (Ásgarð-Ride), werewolves,
or the embodiments of various of the wights that wander the earth at
Yule-tide. But Yule is also the time of the greatest feasting and joy,
because it is at Yule that the whole clan, living and dead, gathers as one,
sure in the knowledge that even as the Sun rises every year from her
greatest darkness, so there will ever be rebirth for us as well. It is not
by chance that Yule has preserved the most Heathen customs of any feast:
the promise of the Yule log and the ever-green tree also stood as the
promise that our folk-ways should live through the long dark winter and
rise bright again.

The traditional Yule season is thirteen nights long - called the
Weihnachten, or wih-nights, in Germany. These thirteen nights are the
march-space between one year and another, the border where the worlds
overlap. All that happens between the first sunset and the last dawn of
Yule is mightier than at any other time of the year: these are the nights
when Wyrd may be turned, when doom is set.

In early times, at least according to the Anglo-Saxons, Yule began on the
night before the solstice (that is, either the 19th or 20th of December -
varying from year to year; check your almanac), which Bede calls the
"Mother-Night". The name suggests that this night was particularly given to
the idises and perhaps to Frija; today we think of it as a night for the
close family to spend together in the home with each other and their
ghosts. This night is ruled over by the house-mother, who stands for all
the womanly wights who care for their kin.

The mightiest night of Yule is the solstice itself, the longest night of
the year when all the wights who wander in darkness are freest and the
human hold on this earth is weakest. The word "Yule" itself is ur-old, its
meaning clouded; it could have sprung from roots meaning "wheel"; "time of
joy"; "year-turning", "time of sacrifice", or perhaps "blind (dark) time"
(de Vries, Wörterbuch, p. 292; Ásgeirr Blondal Magnússon, Órðsifjabók, p.
433). This is the night on which the Yule-log should be burned and the
watch kept; this is the night on which the holiest oaths are sworn. It is
not good to be alone on this night, for then the only folk about one are
trolls and the dead - chancy companions at best!

The Yule-tide ends at "Twelfth Night" (actually Þrettándi, "thirteenth
night" in Old Norse), which was January 6th in christian reckoning
(counting from December 25), but for us, is usually held to be the eve of
January 1 (counting from December 19). As the first day of the new year,
this is itself a day of ørlög, and what is done and said this day shall set
the year to come. No symbel is mightier than the one held at midnight on
"Twelfth Night"; there is no gainsaying the words that are spoken then, for
weal or woe.

It should also be mentioned that there are some suggestions that the Norse
may actually have held their Yule later than did the christians (cf.
Cleasby-Vigfusson, An Icelandic-English Dictionary, p. 309), though quite
how much later is a matter of some guesswork. In Norway, the "twentieth
day" of Yule or "Knut's Day" (January 13) was seen as the end of the
festival period (Fejlberg, Jul, II, p. 303), and de Vries is of the opinion
that "in heathen times Midwinter fell about the 14th of January"
(Religionsgeschichte, II, p. 305). Modern Ásatrúar, however, tend to prefer
the solstice - New Year's span.

From the Old Norse sources, we know that Yule was most particularly thought
of as the time to swear oaths on the holy cup (bragarfull) and the holy
boar (sonargöltr), as spoken of in the quote above and described in more
detail in Hervarar saga ok Heiðreks, where the Yule boar is especially
mentioned as a beast of Freyr (or, in another manuscript, Freyja). While
all oaths are holy - their keeping the measure of the speaker both among
humans and god/esses, their breaking a call to the worst luck and a cause
for the worst contempt of the folk - those of the Yule night are the
holiest of all.

The toasts spoken of in the chapter on "Symbel" were also part of the
traditional Norse celebration; Orkneyinga saga describes the drinking of
the minni (memory-toasts) - even following a christian Mass. As discussed
below, Yule was a time when strange things often happened, and the greatest
feast of the year. It was a time in which peace had to be kept: both the
phrases jólafriðr (Yule-Frith) and jólagrið (Yule-Griths) were known.

The might of the Yule time is shown forth in the fact that the god/esses
themselves are called jóln (Yule-Beings) in Eyvindr skáldaspillr's
"Háleygjatál". It is worth marking that Christopher Arnold, writing in
1674, mentions "neither good nor evil spirits, which are particularly in
the air around the birth-time of Christ, and are called 'Juhlafolker', that
is, Yule-folk, by the Lapplanders" - a name which bears a suspicious
resemblance to the Old Norse jóln. He then describes how the Lapps make
sacrifice by taking pieces of their meals on holy days and lifting them up,
then putting them in a piece of birch-bark and making a little ship
provided with sail and rudder, which they also pour a little fatty gravy
into. They hang such ships on a tree behind the house, so that the swarming
Yule-host has something to eat (Meisen, Sagen der wütenden Heer und wilden
Jäger, p. 134). This may well have been a borrowing from Norse custom, in
which the ship played such a great part as the sign of the faring from one
world to the next; although the elder sources do not mention ships as
sacrificial vessels (except in the context of burial), this seems wholly in
keeping with the general beliefs of our forebears.

Of all the god/esses, Wodan has the most to do with the Yule-time; indeed,
one of his heiti is Jólnir. In Halfdanar þáttr svarta (Flateyjarbók, Óláfs
saga Tryggvasonar), Óðinn appears in the form of an old Finn to King
Hálfdan at a Yule-feast and causes all the food to disappear. Halfdan
tortures him until the king's son Haraldr (later Haraldr inn hárfagri)
first asks his father to let the old man go, then frees him himself.
Haraldr goes away with him until they come to the place where a banquet is
being held, and it turns out that this is where the vanished food has gone;
it is then prophesied for Haraldr that he shall become the sole ruler of
Norway, which he does in time. It is then mentioned that Óðinn was
especially worshipped by Heathen folk at Yule time.

Throughout the winter, but mostly during the twelve nights of Yule, Wodan
appears as the leader of the Wild Hunt. The spread of various forms of
"Woden's Host" goes down to Switzerland and up through Sweden; although
various historical figures or folk from local legends (for instance, the
German Dietrich af Bern, the Danish King Valdemar and Christian II; and the
English Francis Drake, among others) are named in these legends as well,
derivations from the woð-root are the most common; it seems probable that
this is one of the god's oldest aspects, if not the very oldest. "Oden"
appears in Sweden and Denmark, but not in Norway, where the host is led by
Guro Rysserova (Guðrún of Völsunga saga) and her husband Sigurðr - who,
despite the fact that he is called "Sigurd Svein" (Young Sigurðr) and all
variants of the story describe his early death, is described in Norwegian
Wild Hunt legends as terrifyingly old, and decrepit to the point of
blindness, so that when he should see, his eyes need to be opened with a
hook. This old man with seeing difficulties has nothing in common with
Sigurðr Sigmundsson, but bears an eerie resemblance to Sigurðr's godly
patron, the aged Óðinn who also goes by the names Bileygr (Weak-Eyed),
Herblindi (Host-Blind), Tvíblindi (Double-Blind), and Helblindi
(Death-Blind), leading to a very strong suspicion that Norwegian folk
tradition might have replaced the name of the god with the name of the
hero.

The human side of the Hunt was spoken of under "Man-Making"; it is also
clear from the legends, however, that the company included the actual dead.
In the Strassburger Chronicle of 1516, it is described how a woman saw her
husband, whose head had been split asunder in war, among the host; Hans
Sachs' poem "Das wutend heer der kleinen dieb" (1539) describes the
wod-host in gruesome detail, including the ravens flapping above to pick
out the eyes of the dead, until at last 'there came one behind, who had
been hanged the same day, still had his eyes and saw me'. Involvement of
folk who are not in a full state of wod with the host can be dangerous: the
Zimmerische Chronik tells how one man bandaged a ghost and became ill,
while another answered the hunt with the same result. In Pomerania and
Westfalia, the Hunt chases travellers to death. M. Landstad cites a
Telemark story of the Aasgardsreid leaving a dead man hanging where they
had drunken the Yule ale. "He was dressed as a Nummedaler and had silver
buttons on his vest. The Aasgardsreid had taken him in Nummedal and carried
him along, and they had presumably ridden him so hard that he had burst"
(Norsk folkeminnelags skrifter 13, p. 20). The motif of the living person
who is picked up by the horde and carried elsewhere is particularly common
in Germany and in Norway. A curious form of this theme which is unique to
Norway had people undergoing a sort of involuntary separation from their
bodies, which lie as if dead while their souls are faring with the oskorei,
as Landstad describes: "She fell backwards and lay the whole night as if
she were dead. It was of no profit to shake her, for the Asgardsreid had
made off with her". The woman then awakes to tell how she had ridden with
the host "so that fire spurted under horse-hooves" (p. 15). In Pomerania,
doors are closed against the Hunter to keep children from being carried
off; in Bohuslän (Sweden), it was said that "Oden fares from up in the air
and takes creatures and children with him". In Denmark, we see two opposing
beliefs: houses which were built along "King Valdemar's road" had to leave
their doors open so that the Hunt would have free passage, but it was also
believed that doors should be shut, as "Oden's" visit would bring bad luck.
De Vries is of the opinion that the original belief was that the Wod-Host's
passing was thought to bring blessing, and that it was only after
christianization that it was seen as a horde of demons ("Wodan und die
wilde Jagd", p. 50).

As spoken of in "Man-Making", gifts of food and drink were often left out
for the Hunt. As well as being a thing of terror, the Wod-Host also brought
fruitfulness to the field: it was said of the Norwegian jolasveinar that as
high as they were able to spring over the ground, the grain would grow to
that height. The Northern German Last-Sheaf charm also bears that out:
"Wode, give your horse now fodder. Now thistle and thorn - the next year
better grain". De Vries comments that "(Wodan's) relationship to the
Yule-time, in which he came to Earth with his host of einherjar, led the
thoughts to the return of the dead to their old homesteads...They gave out
luck and blessing, but especially a blessed harvest...The host of the dead,
that roared about in field and meadow at this particular time, must tread
forward in just such a mystical connection: its leader Wodan had also a
certain might over the success of the harvest" ("Wodan und die Wilde Jagd",
p. 51). This was true of both the ghostly host and the wod-taken men who
ran about in their masks.

Closely tied to these beliefs is the Scandinavian masking-custom of the
Yule-buck - a goat's head on a stick, carried about from house to house by
a young man under a furry cloak, who engaged in all manner of wild things.
His visits could mean either good or ill luck; but in many communities, he
was welcomed in with singing and dancing. However, the Yule-buck was more a
frightening figure than an amusing one; one Danish folktale tells of a girl
who dared to dance with it alone in the barn at midnight, whereupon it came
to life and battered her against the beams until she was thoroughly dead
(Simpson, Scandinavian Folktales, pp. 80-81). In Norway and Sweden, as well
as being a guiser, the Yule-buck is also seen as a wholly supernatural
wight, boneless and bloodless, with hair long enough to hide its legs; in
earlier days, it hid under the cooking-house and had to be given Yule ale,
snaps, and porridge to keep it from destroying everything inside. In
Søndmøre, it is called "Howe-buck" and thought to dwell in the burial
mound; in Sweden, sudden sicknesses at Yule-time are blamed on this buck
(Fejlberg, Jul). It is also sometimes said that the "New Year's-buck" will
take whoever does not have new clothes at this time. The Yule-buck may
possibly be related to Thonar's goats (and we will remember that in
Germany, "Santa Claus" is sometimes said to drive a wagon drawn by two
goats), or it may embody that same wild might of death and fruitfulness
which we see in the Wild Hunt. A Yule-playlet from Øland has two people,
"father" and "son" together with a "buck", singing alternating lines in
which they bargain for the buck's life and horn. The "buck" is "shot" at
the end of the third verse, falling down and lying as if dead. They then
spread a red cloak and a white cloak over the buck; the last verse tells
how it gets up, shaking its beard and springing about, and the guiser
playing the buck does as described. Another version has a red cloak laid on
the goat before the slaughter; then a blue cloak (because he was gray),
then a white cloak (because he was a corpse), then a gold cloak, because
Yule was near; and before he could be salted away, he got up and shook his
beard (Fejlberg, Jul, II, pp. 231-32). This is suspiciously close to the
mythic description of Þórr's goats, which can be slaughtered and eaten,
then brought back to life by the swinging of the god's Hammer.

Goats made of straw, both small and large, are seen all over the place in
Denmark and Sweden at Yule-time. A common Yule decoration in those
countries is a small wreath of straw with little straw-goats dangling from
it. These creatures - especially the larger ones, whose beards are made
from the heads of barley or wheat - suggest that same tie with death and
fruitfulness. The goat itself is a rather uncanny beast, and, as Thonar's
wain-drawing goats show us, it is as able as a horse or a boar to fare
between the worlds.

Although the Last Sheaf was a harvest-custom, special sheaves were also put
out at Yule-time "for the birds" - sometimes in the tops of fruit-trees.
This was the custom in Norway, Swabia, and the most southerly parts of
Germany (Fejlberg, Jul, I, 143). Since the Last Sheaf has a special
connection with the host of the dead, as does the practice of hanging gifts
in trees, it may well be that these "Yule-sheaves" were first meant as
gifts to the god/esses and ghosts, who might come to take them in the form
of birds (especially crows or ravens?).

As well as Wodan, the Hunt also had a female leader - Perchte/Berchte or
Holda, who, as spoken of under "Frija", may well be a German survival of
aspects of Frija which were forgotten in the Norse tales. In folk
processions of Upper (Southern) Germany, the maskers were called
"Perchten", and there were both ugly and beautiful "Perchten" - the former
masked as animals and monsters, the latter decorated in fantastic costumes.
The beautiful ones often gave gifts, while the ugly ones ran and leapt
about most furiously. As with the Norwegian jolsveinar, the higher the
Perchten could leap and the more wildly they shouted and ran about, the
more blessing they brought to the steads where they came (de Vries,
Religionsgeschichte, I, p. 451).

In a lighter vein, the young boys of a kindred might be allowed to mask as
Yule-Swains and come about to the grown folk with some sign of blessing -
perhaps dried stalks of grain - which they would give in return for money
and candy, as the Easter-Witch girls do at Ostara's feast.

The Wod-Host is not the only band of ghosts that roam at Yule-time. All
manner of dead and undead are abroad. In Grettis saga, Glámr meets with the
wight that slays him and causes him, in turn, to become a frightful draugr;
the hauntings in Eyrbyggja saga also take place during the Yule-time.
Trolls are quite common at this time, especially in Iceland, but generally
throughout Scandinavia; there are, indeed, a number of stories about bands
of trolls who break into people's houses to hold their own feasts, driving
the human house-holders out. In Hrólfs saga kraka, an alf-woman comes to
King Helgi at Yule, and he gets the daughter on her who, in time, brings
about Hrólfr's death. The mound-alfs are especially active at this time,
and are often seen traveling in bands from howe to howe; those who look
well at the hills and stones where they live can see them feasting and
dancing for Yule.

Christians spent much time warding themselves from the Wod-Host and the
other wights that walked at Yule-time; Fejlberg describes how Norwegians
put crosses over all the doors of their houses and barns, and cast steel
into all springs and wells (Jul, I, pp. 141-42); how crosses of straw,
rowan, and other materials were common, and knives were laid edge-up on
windowsills and door-frames (II, pp. 64, 69). Icelanders, however, kept up
a custom which was probably closer to the original: the "bidding the alfs
to home" (bjóða álfum heima). The house-mother would sweep everywhere, in
every corner, then kindle lights all through the house, where-ever there
might be a shadow. She then went out and around the dwelling, some say
three times, and spoke "Come, those who wish to come; stay, those who wish
to stay; and fare, those who wish to fare, harmless to me and mine (Komi
þeir sem koma vilja, veri þeir sem vera vilja, og fari þeir, sem fara
vilja, mér og mínum að meinalausu)" (Árni Björnsson, Jól á Íslandi, pp.
138-39). This is the form of the custom recommended to true folk. For those
who are troubled by trolls or ill-willing ghosts, rowan and the sign of
Thonar's Hammer are the best wards against such wights.

Many of the dead were, in fact, very welcome at the Yule feasting: it is
particularly important to give the house-ghosts (tomtes, nisses, kobolds,
or whatever you choose to call them) their food, beer, and perhaps tobacco
at this time. But most of all, it was believed that the dead came back to
visit their kin and their old homes, and to see that all was being done
rightly; and great trouble was taken to see that everything would suit
them. In many homes in Norway, the beds were left to the ghosts, while the
living kin slept in the Yule-straw on the floor; in Bornholm, it was
important to leave the food standing overnight on the Yule-table (Fejlberg,
Jul, II, p. 9). Not only were the dead bidden to the home, but the folk
went out to pay their worship to the dead; the practice of making offerings
to or upon howes continued in Sweden up into this century.

Fruit-trees were especially important at Yule-time. In the Country Life
Book of Old English Customs, Roy Christian tells how, in Carhampton and
other West Country villages on Old Twelfth Night (Jan. 17), "The villagers
form a circle round the largest apple tree in a selected orchard. Pieces of
toast soaked in cider are hung in the branches for the robins, who
represent the 'good spirits' of the tree. The leading wassailer utters an
incantation and shot-gun volleys are fired through the branches to frighten
away the evil spirits. Then the tree is toasted in cider and urged in song
to bring forth much fruit" (p. 133). In Denmark, folk went out and shook
all the fruit-trees, then tied straw bands or wreaths around their trunks:
thus they assured a good fruit-harvest in the coming summer (Nordisk
Bondereligion, p. 39). The Swedes strewed the crumbs and leftovers from the
Yule meals around their fruit-trees (Fejlberg, Jul, I, p. 201). When we
think on the meaning of the apple and of fruit in general, this is little
wonder: for the fruit-tree was especially the sign of life through death,
the apple the embodiment of the hope of rebirth and the seed bearing the
soul of the clan. The fruit-bearing tree was thus treated as an honoured
member of the family - as the very Bairn-Stock - at this holiest of all
times. Those who do not have actual fruit- or nut-trees to wassail should
hang apples upon their Yule tree and wassail it in the same way.

Special, very strong, ale was brewed for Yule time - something many small
European breweries still do; the strongest beer in the world is
"Sanniklaus", at 13.5 %, which is only brewed at Yule. The brewing of the
beer that is drunk at Yule should be done as late as possible - certainly
after Winternights - though strong beers tend to need longer in the bottle
than lighter ones. Beer which is actually brewed at Yule-time is full of
magical strength, and may be used throughout the year whenever the special
might of the Wyrd-shaping Yule season is needed.

The decorating of the house with greenery - that is to say, evergreen
branches - is very traditional. The superstition that it is unlucky to
bring greenery into the house before December 21 probably stems from the
fact that this day was one for Heathen celebration, and therefore only
Heathens decorated their houses in preparation for it (as opposed to the
christians, whose holiday was carefully set four days later). The
evergreens, of course, show life going on even in the darkest part of the
year when all the other trees are bare. Bringing their branches into the
house also may be thought to act as a bidding to the alfs, idises, and
other kindly ghosts; holly has been thought in modern times to be
especially close to the mound-alfs. Together with the apple, the yew is the
greatest of Yule-trees, but its branches should not be brought indoors if
you have children or pets, since its bark, berries, and needles are all
very poisonous. The toxins of the yew are also supposed to be released into
the air by heat, which suggests that having a lot of yew-branches in an
enclosed, heated room may not be a good idea. However, in The English
Festivals, Whistler does cite Coleridge's 1798 description of a German
family which brought a huge yew-branch into the house, which they set
burning candles in and gifts under (p. 29). The mistletoe is fitting to the
whole season, when folk pass so easily between the worlds; but remember,
likewise, that its berries are very poisonous.

The Yule tree is a southern German custom (almost certainly stemming from
Heathen roots), which only reached Scandinavia in the last century; Edred
Thorsson suggests that this tree was originally the same as the live
Bairn-Stock, which was only cut down and brought inside when it became
unsafe to hang the gifts to the alfs and idises upon a tree in public. The
earlier-quoted description of the Lappish gifts to the "Yule-folk" lends
strength to this theory: the tree was the center of the holy feast, the
means of making the offering to the god/esses and ghosts as well as itself
being a mighty wight to whom offerings were given. In modern Ásatrú, as
well as seeing the Yule tree as the kin-tree, many folk also see it as the
embodiment of the World-Tree, so that it is sometimes crowned with an eagle
and has a wyrm or dragon wrapped about the bottom.

Especially fitting things to hang on the Yule-tree are apples, nuts, and
strings of cranberries; small images of swans, horses, swine, and other
such holy beasts; and, as spoken of above, little ships. Cookies or little
breads in the shapes of animals are also very fitting to hang as gifts to
the holy ones. It was not long ago that it was customary to fasten candles
to the branches of fir trees. This is still sometimes done in Germany, but
is so dangerous, especially when dealing with a cut tree inside the house,
that the practice is not recommended: the standard strings of electric
lights serve the purpose well enough. The practice of putting the family
gifts under an indoors Yule tree also go back to the earliest mentions of
the tree-custom.

In Scandinavia, the centre of the Yule festivities (especially before the
German tree was adopted) was the Yule wreath; many families have
wrought-iron candleholder wreaths as family heirlooms, and these are also
woven with evergreen branches. The ring of the wreath may have been thought
of as showing the ring of the year, and perhaps, with the candles burning
about its circle, the wheel of the Sun. As well as the iron wreath, wreaths
were also made of pine branches and/or woven straw. This is a custom true
folk have taken up: at the beginning of the Yule season, we often make
wreaths with evergreen branches, apples, nuts, and other such signs of
frith and good luck, into which wishes and blessings written in runes on
thin strips of paper may be woven. These wreaths are then burned at Twelfth
Night. Whistler mentions that while the Yule-tree was German, the
"Yule-Bough", a great hanging sphere or half-sphere of evergreens with a
ring of apples dangling from it, was characteristically English (pp.
44-47).

Work was supposed to stop at Yule; under "Frija", we spoke of the ban on
spinning during the Holy Nights. Especially, no wheel was supposed to go
round - not whetstones, grinding querns, mill-wheels, or any other sort.
This likely bears some relationship to the importance of the Sun and the
sun-wheel to the Yule-feast. For these twelve days, also, we are outside
normal time and free of the usual need for ceaseless word: the Yule nights
are a time for the mind and body to rest while the soul reaches out to the
god/esses.

Special cakes are baked for Yule: traditional shapes include boars,
sun-wheels, and interwoven snakes - all of which were being used in the
17th century, and probably do indeed stem from Heathen times (Nordisk
Bondereligion, p. 40). Lutefisk is a traditional Norwegian Yule-food. Most
folk of Norwegian descent who have been fed the stuff in their youth
consider it very optional. Most important, however, is that the food and
drink not be stinted at Yuletide: whoever comes must be fed lavishly, for
guest-friendliness means more at this time (when the god/esses and ghosts
walk) than at any other time in the year. In Sweden, the feast-table was
prepared with two "Yule-howes", one for the husband and one for the wife. A
big cheese was laid at the bottom, then two "Yule-buns" of unequal size; on
top of the pyramid was a crown of wheat-dough, in which the "frith-dove"
sat with a stalk of barley in its beak and an egg under its tail - a symbol
that the farmer should have a fruitful year. Around the edge of the table
were tree-branches, hung with pretzels and all with apples stuck on the
ends. The other house folk also got their "howes", though not such
impressive ones as the man and wife of the home had. From Yule evening
until the third day of Yule, New Year's Day, and Twelfth Night, the
"Yule-howes" were supposed to lie on the great table and got special power
from the Yule-feasting. Thereby, the Yule-bread got the power to heal
illness. In Halland, the julgalt or "Yule-boar", a boar-shaped cake, lay on
the top of the "howe" with an apple set on it; another traditional crown
for the Yule-howe was a ring-shaped cake with three lovely red apples
(Fejlberg, Jul, I, pp. 182-83). Such things show the setting of Wyrd: by
laying them out as part of the feast to be shared with the god/esses and
ghosts, the householders made sure that they would have a rich and joyous
year.

In Sweden, the Yule-boar was especially important: this was often a great
boar-shaped bread of rye- or wheat-meal, up to a foot and a half long,
complete with eyes, nostrils, and bristles. It was borne in at mid-day on
the first day of Yule; the house-mother then cut a sun-wheel upon it and
laid it before the house-father's place, decked in a white cloth. It was
eaten on New Years' or Three Kings' Day, but one piece would be kept to
share between the plough-oxen on the first day of work in the spring, and
another would be saved until the next Yule (Fejlberg, Jul, I, p. 192). This
boar was clearly a survival of the original sonargöltr on which oaths were
sworn in Heathen times. In Västergotland, a block of wood had a pig-skin
set upon it; the man would put his hand on this and swear to be a good
father and mild husband, and the wife and the serving folk would plight
similar troths. For those who do not keep and butcher their own pigs, such
a Yule-bread or mock boar is clearly the most practical alternative to the
sacrifical boar of elder days.

Dogs and cats got the same sort of food as humans at this time, and dogs
were supposed to be kept inside (Nordisk Bondereligion, p. 40), perhaps
because their barking at the many ghostly wights who wandered through the
Yule night was thought to be an ill thing.

Many fire-customs are important at Yule-time. The best-known of these is,
of course, the Yule-log, which must burn the whole night through with
someone keeping Yule-watch over it. Pieces of the Yule-log are then kept
through the year and thought to bring good luck; one year's Yule-log should
be kindled with a piece of the last. This fire in the darkest night
embodies the ever-living fire of the clan and the soul, the ever-springing
hope of the worlds. In modern times, those folk who do not have fireplaces
in which a log can be burned all night use a large (24-hour) candle
instead, by choice either black, purple, or deep green. Hákonar saga ins
góða (Heimskringla) tells how the cups for drinking the holy toasts were
borne around the fires; Grimm thinks that this may have been an integral
part of the Germanic customs concerning the giving of drink to the
god/esses (Teutonic Mythology II, p. 628). The candle-wreath and burning of
the Yule wreath have already been spoken of; Grimm cites the Franconian
custom of going up on a peak with a wagon-wheel wrapped in straw, then
setting it alight at evening and letting it run down so that it looks like
the Sun running from the sky (II, p. 627) - though most of the examples of
burning Sun-wheels which he cites are part of the Midsummer festivities.

In Norwegian tradition, the first person to get up on Yule morning should
bring everyone else a drink of snaps (vodka or akavit) in bed (Fejlberg,
Jul, I, p. 154). This is very like the "Lucy"-tradition of a light-crowned
maiden coming about with cakes and coffee or gløgg, which has already been
spoken of under "Frija", and may well be related.

When the Yule-season was over, there were certain customs of "chasing Yule
out". If there was any ale left in the keg, a "sleep-draught" would be
drunk with it. Yule could be rung out with bells or beaten out with
birch-sticks. This served to mark the end of the wih-nights and the return
to normal life; it also chased out any trolls or spooks who might have
meant to stay past their time.

Yule Rites: Mothernight

All the house-cleaning and work should be finished before evening on this
day, the Yule-wreath made and the home fully decked with the Yule greenery.
If possible, the whole family should take sauna in the afternoon, thinking
on the cleansing of their bodies and souls.

A candle-wreath should be readied on the mantlepiece or where-ever the
heart of the home is. If you do not have an candle-holder wreath, you may
weave branches or straw into a circle around four candle-holders. Lacking
an actual harrow, a small table may be used as such for the evening. If you
have a real spindle, it should be spun full and laid beside the wreath; if
not, a dowel may be wound full with yarn. The other tools you will need are
a long birch-twig (if birch cannot be gotten, aspen, willow, or pussy
willow may all be used - or, at need, any long, supple twig with the rune
Berkano risted thrice upon it will do), a hornfull of good ale, a bowl of
milk, and ale and porridge for your house-ghost. This rite can be done by
one alone at need: the family that comes will be the clan-members from the
hidden world.

I. As sunset falls, the House-Mother goes about kindling candles where-ever
the shadows fall (at least so far as is reasonable, given the risks of
fire), until the whole house is bright. As she lights each one, she says,
"Frija bring brightness; Frowe bring warmth" (If there is no woman in the
house, a man may take her place in this rite by symbolically covering his
head with a shawl). Only the candles of the wreath are not lit.

Taking a candle or enclosed lantern, the House-Mother goes outside, leaving
the door open. If she can walk thrice around the house, she does so, saying
"Come, those who wish to come; stay, those who wish to stay; and fare,
those who wish to fare, harmless to me and mine" (or, if she prefers, using
the Icelandic version given above).

II. The House-Mother then comes inside and rings a bell three times or
gives some other signal that the family should gather. She sits in the
high-seat or on a seat readied for her and says,

All my clan I call to me

come from your biding-steads, kin!

Elder and younger all I hail,

come to the Mother's call!

The family gathers in a ring or half-ring about her. Each of them brings
some sign of their work - the work that is finished for the year, now to be
set aside until after the Wih-Nights are over.

III. The House-Mother lifts the spindle, walking about the outside of the
ring to trace a circle and saying,

Hlín shall hold us holy all,

ward against wights of woe.

She weaves the frith she winds the thread

she works the web of Wyrd,

she hallows the holy ring.

She faces northward.

Now Mothers all, ye mighty ones,

idises awesome I hail!

Nerthus in north-ways, nytt we thy love,

and hail her in hidden halls.

She faces eastward.

Gerðr, thy grith we greet on this night,

etin-bride, ever fair.

Gefjon, ox-mother, grant blessing here,

giver of all things good.

She faces southward.

Sunna, fair-shining, who shall bear a maid,

when death of the worlds grows dark,

In thy farthest faring, frowe, we hail thee,

in hope of thy height again.

She faces westward.

Frija, bright mother, frowe of gods,

And idises all we hail,

From fen-halls far, falcon-eyed gazing,

Spinnner, at year's spiraling depths,

Weaver, through wyrd-full nights,

Kindle our candles to light.

She lights the four wreath-candles.

IV. The House-Mother turns deosil until facing her family again. She lifts
her spindle, speaking:

Well have we worked; the year's work is wrought. So Perchte sees my full
spindle; my house is swept, my candles lit. There shall be no more spinning
these days; the loom lies still, the distaffs do not turn while the
wih-nights last (she then makes a like statement about whatever her actual
job is, lifting up some sign of it and laying it on the mantelpiece or
harrow. Each of the family in turn brings forth the emblem of their work,
calling upon the god/ess who especially rules that task if there is one or
generally hailing the gods and wights to witness, and stating that the
year's work is done and will halt during the wih-nights).

V. The House-Mother then pours ale into a glass for the house-ghost,
lifting it and his porridge. She says,

Kind (tomte/nisse/haugbond/kobold), you have worked well this year. Rest as
we rest through the wih-nights; feast in frith, our dear friend, that your
might wax for the year to come. Glad Yule to you!

She puts the ale and porridge down on the hearth, stone, or where-ever the
house-ghost's dwelling has been set.

VI.The House-Mother lifts the birch-twig, saying,

Let all woe be left behind! Birch's brightness cleanse us; Birch-Mother
rinse us of ill, fill us with frith and joy, that all our works bear fair
fruit.

She first taps herself about the head, heart, loins, and feet, then does so
to each of the family in turn. After this, she gives each of them a small
gift which symbolizes the granting of whatever their deeply-felt wishes
are.

VII. The House-Mother fills the horn with ale, lifting it and saying,

Now drink to dises at dusk of feast,

the Mothers who light us through mirk.

At Yule's birth when year must die,

the Mothers watch over all ends,

the Mothers are midwives all.

Frija and Nerthus, Fjörgyn, rich earth,

Gefjon and Zisa, all givers of life,

Gerðr and Skaði, Gríðr, Jarnsaxa,

in winter's darkness wombs are yet full.

She drinks, then passes the horn about deosil. The family members may
either drink in silence or make a toast to idises and/or goddesses as they
choose.

VIII. When the horn has made its round, the House-Mother pours it into the
blessing-bowl, saying,

Mothers all, we make this gift to you! Be welcome in Yule-frith and grith;
share all our feasts and joy! Your blessings be on all the folk here.

She uses the birch-twig to sprinkle first herself, then the rest of the
family and the hearth-stone.

IX. The House-Mother takes the blessing-bowl and the bowl of milk and leads
the family out to the chosen tree or stone. If there is nowhere outside to
do this, the blessing-bowl may be poured into the Yule-tree's water or into
a basin of earth. She sets the bowl of milk down by the tree/stone, or
otherwise, just outside the door of the house, saying,

I give this to whoever fares hungry through the night: wights, you are not
forgotten!

She then calls her next words out through the door or an open window.

The year's work is done, Frija casts her apron aside - now wild Perchte
fares through the land! Hail thee, Bright One; hail thee, Holda! Free our
hearts for the Yule-tide feasting; through our fields lead your holy train!
Hail to Perchte!

All: Hail to Perchte!

If outside, the family members should now run about shouting, making noise,
perhaps waving sparklers, and so forth. Otherwise, the rite is over.

Yule Rites: Yule

By choice, the Yule rite should be planned as an all-night feast, at which
somebody is always awake to keep a watch on the Yule log (or candle). This
means making sure that there is room for all the guests to stay over, and
hopefully places where those who are not able to keep the full night-watch
can go to sleep between the midnight and dawn rites. If, for whatever
reason, the sunset-midnight-sunrise timing is not possible, the main ritual
can be held earlier in the evening and the guests can then depart, leaving
the sunrise rite for whoever has kept watch. To be really traditional, even
the house's owners should leave the beds for the ghosts who will come this
night and sleep on the floor themselves.

For the Yule rite, you will need a bread or cake in the shape of a boar, a
holy sax, a blessing-bowl and sprinkling twig, the Yule log (or candle),
apples which are fixed with a loop so that they can be hung up, perhaps
straw to wreath the tree with and a sheaf to hang in its branches (if it is
a living tree outdoors), and lots of ale or other drink.

One table should be set up as the Yule table, spread with a white cloth and
heaped high with food and drink (some of which must stay on it all night);
if you are going to build your own "Yule-howes", it is on this table that
it should be done. A place near the hearth should be found where two
candles can be set so that the symbel-horn and the Yule-boar can be borne
about between them.

Sunset

The Godwo/man takes up a place in front of the Hearth, with the folk ringed
or half-ringed about him/her. The House-Mother and House-Father, if there
is such a pair, should stand beside the Godwo/man; if either is not there,
the Godwo/man should do the part of whichever is missing.

I. Hammer-Rite.

II. The Godwo/man speaks:

Without, the wild ones wod-ride over land,

hills and holts and howes,

the stormwinds streaming stark through the trees,

all forth ride alfs and trolls.

Within, all wights in weal are met,

here in holy hall,

staunch kin and friends standing in ring,

with alfs and idises all.

Though Sunna sinks we shall not fail

to greet all folk in grith.

Hail, ye who come here! hail, ye who stay,

Hail, in homes of might!

Yule-folk, Jólnir! at year's turn we hail,

Yule-folk, Jólnir! all you mighty ones,

Yule-folk, Jólnir! yare is the hall made,

Yule-folk, Jólnir! yeme you all kin here!

III. The House-Mother, if there is one, speaks:

Now let the candles be lit for this night,

their gleam glow in blessing kind

to all far-farers and folk of earth,

their warmth shall show the way.

She lights the candles of the Wreath. The House-Father speaks:

Now let flame of Yule flare forth this night

through death and darkness deep.

To all far-farers and folk of earth,

as beacon its brightness burns,

as frith-sign its fire flares,

as blessing it blazes forth.

He lights the Yule-log's fire or the candle which takes its place, and from
that blaze lights the two candles chosen as Yule-fires. The Godwo/man
speaks:

Fro Ing and Frowe, though frost-cold the wind,

shines your might through snow.

Now let boar of Yule be blessed this night,

gold-bristled, glowing swine,

that Fro Ing and Frowe have!

S/he lifts up the Yule boar and bears it about and between the candles that
have been set up as Yule-fires, setting it down on the table as a
centerpiece.

IV. The Godwo/man speaks:

Now wassail we the wights all loved,

and bless the bearing tree!

Apples of awe, apple-tree mighty,

we'll hail this holy night.

If possible, several young women go about passing out apples and filling
everyone's horn or cup with ale or cider. The folk all hang the apples from
the tree, hugging and shaking it, drinking its health and splashing their
drink over it, and wreathing its trunk in straw. If it is a living tree, it
is fitting to shoot off cap pistols around it, shouting, Wend away, all
wights of woe! Someone should also climb to the top of the tree (or at
least reasonably high branches) with a sheaf of grain and bind it there,
saying, Raven and crow, and riders of night! All who fare the wind-ways, we
give this sheaf to you!

V. If the folk have been outside, they come in to the hearth again.
Otherwise, the Godwo/man may speak from where s/he is.

We feast in frith this frozen night,

within the hall is warm.

Now go all forth to gladness here,

give your gifts in all grith,

drink draughts of ale deep,

eat of the apples sweet.

The folk give each other their Yule-gifts, then start the feasting.

Evening

While the folk are feasting, if there are any guisers who wish to be
Yule-bucks or a Wod-Host, they should creep out quietly now and get into
their garb, coming back to the door with great noise and tumult. The
House-Father and -Mother or Godwo/man should meet them at the door and do
as seems fitting - either inviting them in, if the house can stand a deal
of rowdiness within, or leading the feasters out to share food and ale with
them outside. This should go on until the guisers' inspiration is exhausted
and they take their leave, going off into the night and becoming their
usual selves again.

Each person should also have a little birch-bark (or paper) boat, in which
s/he puts a bit of each thing s/he has eaten and which s/he hangs on the
tree, saying, "Yule-folk, I yield you your share of the feast".

The house-ghost must also have some food and drink from the feast.

The symbel is probably best set after the feast; depending on how many folk
are there, you may want to have a feast-symbel or minne-symbel of limited
length, with the option of a shopes' symbel afterwards.

This is also the best time to do a ritual drama, if you have one in mind.
Appropriate scripts might be "The Waking of Angantýr" (English translation
found in Christopher Tolkien's The Saga of King Heiðrek the Wise); the last
part of "Helgakviða Hjörvarðssonar" (beginning with Heðinn's meeting of the
troll-woman in the wood) or of "Helgakviða Hundingsbana II" (the scene with
Helgi and Sigrún in the mound). Some examples of music that might be played
at this time is the Wotan-Erda duet from Siegfried; Mussorgsky's Pictures
at an Exhibition; "In the Hall of the Mountain King" (Grieg, from Peer
Gynt); "Der Erlkönig" and "Geistertanz" (Schubert, various Lieder
collections); Bathory's "Oden's Ride over Nordland" (from Blood Fire
Death); and Metallica's "Of Wolf and Man" (from the album with the black
cover).

Midnight

I. All the lights are out except for the wreath, the Yule-fire candles, and
the Yule log. The Godwo/man stands before the harrow. S/he speaks slowly,
in a very low voice.

"Low swings the Sun sunk below earth,

lost is the light of lands.

Etins and trolls own now the night,

wolves howl in winter winds.

Hail thee, Skaði! Shining god-bride,

skiing over the snow,

fairest of all, frost-bleak, we hail

the maid of mountain-ways.

Hail thee, Skaði! Shining god-bride,

whose sons wrought to save our troth,

Icy and sword-armed, eagle's bright daughter,

gaze towards us, glad on this night.

Hail thee, Wulþur! wise, from Yew-Dales,

skiing over the snow,

bright shine thy banners battle-strong god,

we hail thee, hunter on high.

Hail thee, Wulþur! wise, from Yew-Dales,

shield-god, strength of our folk.

Linden and bow-string be battle-might to us,

and bring us from blackest night.

Hail thee, Wodan! Wod-Host's cloaked leader,

sitting thy eight-legged steed.

wolves and dead wild, walkurjas, fight-slain,

howl in thy haring train.

Hail thee, Wodan! Wod-Host's cloaked leader,

with spear that sings through the wind,

gray-horsed ghost-leader, grim, awe-full warg,

Jólnir owns Yule-night!

II. Godwo/man lifts up Yule-boar, walking around and between the Yule fires
as s/he speaks. His/her voice and bodily movements become suddenly bright
with gladness.

But bright Fro and Frowe their boar ride through garth,

the Wans bring weal within.

Now speak we our oaths, and swear we our troths,

on bristles of hallowed boar,

on swine's bright, steadfast back.

III. The Godwo/man speaks her/his oath, starting with the words, "By the
bristles of the boar I swear..." S/he or an earlier-chosen boar-bearer
carries the Yule-boar around the ring deosil. Each of the folk sets hands
upon it and swears an oath that begins, "By the bristles of the boar I
swear..."

IV. The Godwo/man speaks:

Now bear our oaths between the lands,

fare on the far-flung ways,

To the bright worlds, to shining realms,

to the green worlds of gods.

V. The Godwo/man takes a hallowed sax and cuts through the Yule-boar's
throat. S/he then bears it about and between the fires once more, then
takes a piece of it, eats, and passes it about deosil so that everyone can
share in it. Someone must put a piece in one of the little ships which goes
on the holy tree; the house-folk should also not neglect to leave a piece
for the house-ghost.

VI. The House-Mother or other woman fills the horn with drink. The
Godwo/man raises it, speaking:

Hail to all the hallowed wights,

hail to ghosts all ringed here.

alfs and idises all beings who come,

to bless those bound in this ring.

The Godwo/man then makes a toast to his/her god/ess of choice and passes
the horn deosil. Everyone makes toasts to their chosen god/esses. The
Godwo/man pours what is left into the blessing bowl.

VII. The idis fills the horn again. The God/Woman speaks:

Hail to forebears forth come again,

share you in feasting of sib.

Your beds are laid your board is set,

share you our symbel-drink.

S/he drinks and passes it on widdershins. All drink in silence. When the
horn has finished its round, the Godwo/man pours what is left into the
blessing bowl.

VIII. The idis fills the horn again. The Godwo/man speaks:

Hail to all who here now stand,

hail to holders of troth!

kin of the gods clan of all might,

true, all the darkest night through.

S/he raises the horn and drinks from it. If there are any there who are not
true to the god/esses of the North, they may not share in this draught.
When the horn has finished its round, the Godwo/man pours what is left into
the blessing bowl.

IX. The Godwo/man crumbles what is left of the boar (or at least a piece of
it if it is very large) into the bowl. S/he Hammer-signs the bowl and dips
the mistletoe twig into it, sprinkling all the eight winds, above and
below, then each of the folk, beginning with him/herself. To each, s/he
says, Yule-folk bless you on this wih-night!

X. The Godwo/man pours the blessing bowl out at the root of the Yule-tree.
If the tree is a cut one indoors, s/he sprinkles the tree and pours most of
the ale and bread onto earth. S/he speaks:

So it is wrought.

The folk answer:

So it is wrought.

Dawn

The Frija-maid should come around to the sleepers an hour before dawn,
bearing coffee, snaps, spiked coffee, hot mulled cider, gløgg, or whatever
else seems warming and fitting, and breakfast pastries. If it is possible
to do this safely, she should have a crown of burning candles and berries.
She should be dressed in white.

At dawn, the Godwo/man leads the folk outside (or at least opens a window,
if for instance you live fifteen stories up in a city apartment and leading
a host of Heathens out onto the street to do a ritual seems impractical).
S/he bears the Yule-candle or a candle lit from the Yule log. S/he speaks:

The east-ways lights the awesome queen,

dawning from depths of death.

etins and trolls away must wend,

ghosts now go to graves.

Sun, hail to thee! shining at dawn-time,

from blackness rising, all bright.

The Yule-log's burning yields life newly,

its flame shall fire the day,

slain to strength of the Sun.

Facing East, s/he blows the candle out.

Twelfth Night

As is common throughout the West, Twelfth Night (or Thirteenth Night, if
you like) is a night of feasts and parties. The house-ghost should get his
share of food and drink at sunset, with words such as, "Feast well tonight,
our friend; the New Year dawns tomorrow, and work shall start again." The
Yule-wreath should be hung where all can see it: this is the last night on
which the wish-strips can be woven into it.

A symbel should be held at midnight, at which folk speak of the deeds of
the last year and the ways in which the god/esses and ghosts have shown
themselves forth, and make oaths for the year to come.

Twelfth Night is particularly a time for fore-tellings; if there is a
skilled rune-reader or someone with spae-craft in the group, this is when
they should cast or speak for the year ahead. In Sweden, it was customary
to go out into the fields or roads in the night and listen. The sound of a
scythe cutting grass was an omen of good harvest, but the sound of sword on
sword threatened war (Liman, Ingemar, Traditional Festivities in Sweden, p.
28).

When dawn first starts to light the sky, the folk should go about ringing
bells and beating (lightly) on cupboards and beds with sticks, crying,
"Yule is done; we drive it out! Out dwarves and trolls; in good and frith!"
All the Yule-greenery in the house should be thrown out now.

The Yule-wreath should be burned at sunrise, outside if possible. The
Godwo/man stands by it, facing east, with a horn filled with the last of
the Yule-ale. S/he lifts the horn, saying,

Sleep now, you folk who've fared through homes,

the wih-nights are full-wound.

With blessings came you, blessed, fare again,

the howe-wights all to homes,

the stone-wights all to steads,

the wood-wights all to wilds.

S/he drinks and passes the horn deosil. Each drinks, whispering a farewell
to Yule and the Yule-wights. The Godwo/man pours what is left into the
blessing-bowl, raising it high in a moment of silence, then pours the
contents onto the earth. S/he says,

Yare is the wreath the Yule-flame

shall send it to stead of gods.

Burn, thou wheel, bright as the dawn,

yield to us a good year!

S/he lights the Yule-candle or a piece of the Yule-log, then uses that to
light the wreath, which should be dry and quite flammable by now. If it
seems reluctant to burn, an offering of high-proof alcohol may be splashed
over it to help. Everyone cheers, blows horns, and makes loud noises until
it is fully burnt. Yule is over.

The Heathen Kinship Yule is usually a modified form of the rite shown below:

Yule


Materials needed: Somewhere to burn the wreath, the wreath, paper for new year’s resolutions, boar for swearing the oaths upon, the altar candles, an implement to light them, ale and mead both.



Hallowing:


1. The Hammer Signing

2. Adoration of Sunna

3. The Hammer Rite


Gydhja: "...This stead is hallowed for our work here tonight. As the god Heimdall wards the Bifrost Bridge, so is this stead warded against all unholy wights and ways..."


Lay (Reading): "...Yule is the holiest feast and greatest blessing of the Teutonic year. It begins on December 20 and continues for 12 nights, the twelfth being New Year's Eve or Yule Proper. These are the Wigh Nights representing the culmination of the 12 months of the year. It is a space of time that is set apart between the old year and the new. This is the time in which the greatest workings are wrought and the greatest wyrds turned. The Gods and Goddesses are also called the "Yule-Wights," for their might is at its peak at this time. During the nights of Yule, the doors between the worlds are open. The "Wild Hunt" and Perchtenlauf both ride during these nights. The dead walk freely in the land of the living. For this reason, we give honor and worship to our kin who have gone before us, for they stand unseen about our hearth..."


The Blessing of the Elves:


Gydhja:

"Hail the holy Elves, Shining of the harrow,

Whole Ye hold the Hearth,

Mighty elders of old. Turn our minds toward you!"


Godhi: "Tonight we name the winter night and call forth the elder elves of the Folk. Ye have been known by many names, ye great elders of our hearth who ever lead us to greater lore, and fare us to more fruitful fields. O, ye Light-Elves above and ye Dark-Elves down under...WE CALL YOU! Fare ye forth from the realm of light upon the ray of the elves...stream to us from on high. Fare ye forth from the realm of darkness upon the ray of the elves...stream to us from down under..."


Gydhja: "We give this ale, blended with awe, to you wondrous wights of the land and air, to you awesome elves all-old...This ale is hallowed to the elves of the Hearth! To all the awesome elves, to those who dwell in darkness and to those who live in light...All ye elves of the elven realms, Awesome elders all, Wyrd land-wights, to you we give this ale!..."


Godhi: "From the Mother-Night to the Twelfth Night of Yule, the walls between the dwellings of the dark-elves and those of the light, to the realm of the Folk in Midgardh grow ever thinner...the lore of the light and the dreams of darkness become ever more known to us throughout this tide! Let us now go forth and make merry, for the year is yet young!"


"Sunna sinks down into the dark sea, worl and wind howl outside the walls, now Hulda shakes out her snowy bed, now are the life fires hid in yew night from Thrymheim, Skadhi, Shadow black, skis. Wotan's gray steed leads ghosts on the wind, trolls fare from cliff-halls. Harry from caves the etins arising from ice and stone. Ye who would watch this night, ward ye well!"


Gydhja: "Sunna sinks down into the dark sea..."

(She lays her hands upon the holy boar and says)


"But Gullinbursti gleams bright in the hall

Well are we warded who watch this night

by boar's tusk thrusting, by Thunar's strength.

In this high hall stands all holy kin,

From sib-roots to branches runs hidden fire.

Thunar's stark hammer this hall has hallowed.

Alfs and dises the dark and light kin

Frey and Freya share now frith and might!..."


Godhi: (lights the Yule Candles. First the Black, then the Red and finally the White)


Gydhja: "We kindle the yew-flame to year's Yule-night!

Burning ever bright in the minds of our Folk..."


Rede: "This midnight upon the Yule we are gathered together as in the nights of yore, to greet the sun at her lowest stead, and to honor all our own forebears who dwell in the halls of Harr and Hel. We call upon them all to make ripe their might and main in our lives. We call upon them all...the holy gathering...living as a whole as is Wotan's Law..."


Call:


Godhi: "Wotan, we are awed by thy craft"

All: "We give thee welcome"

Godhi: "Tiw, we stay true to thee forever"

All: "We give thee welcome"

Godhi: "Balder, thy brightness & boldness guides us"

All: "We give thee welcome"

Godhi: "Frigga, thy fruit & wisdom keeps us all"

All: "We give thee welcome"

Godhi: "Idunna, thine apples strengthen our souls"

All: "We give thee welcome"

Godhi: "Thunar, thy thunder wards our stead"

All: "We give thee welcome"

Godhi: "Freya, we get freedom from thy frolic"

All: "We give thee welcome"

Godhi: "Frey, from thee we get a harvest of frith"

All: "We give thee welcome"


Godhi: "Again we call to you in all your names, be among us here this midnight as the year reaches its depth and Sunna stands sunken to her lowest stead."


All: "Hail all the Gods, Hail all the Goddesses, Hail all the holy ones who dwell together!"


Gydhja: "We give you the gifts of our works woven and blended with the might and main of the mead. It lends us...gods and folk together...help in our striving towards the shining plain where the worlds and wights dwell in wholeness. The year has come into its depth of darkness...the Great Dragon rises along the deepest roots of the World Tree...may his sight find us not wanting in wisdom."


At this time all partake of the mead from the horn.


Blessing: (Gydhja) "The blessings of all the Gods and all the Goddesses of our folk be upon us."


(The harrow is sprinlked with the holy liquid then the Godhi/Gydhja sprinkle and bless the gathered folk with the following words)

"The blessing of all the Gods and all the Goddesses of our folk be upon you."


The Lighting of the Yule Wreath/Holy Blot:


Setting: (Harrow in standard fashion with a vessel of beer or ale with a single red candle and theYule Wreath at the center. Best performed outside, as we will burn the wreath.)


Godhi: (Draws the mystic circle with the incense)


"...I know that I hung on a windy tree,

night all nine

wounded by the gar given to Odhinn,

myself to myself

on that tree of which no man knoweth

from what roots it rises

They dealt me no bread nor drinking horn,

I looked down;

I took up the runes, roaring I took them,

and fell back again.

This holy day, from dawn to dusk,

myself to myself I give

and from dusk to dawn anew,

Hroptr has my mind all whole,

I give myself to the wondrous rune-work...in

this hour and throughout the day...

I SHALL WORK MY WILL..."

"...So shall it be!..."


Gydhja: (Facing the north in the form of a cross or Odin's Eye)


"Now are Harr's sayings said in Harr's hall,

helpful to the son's of men

but of no help to etins' sons;

Hail, the one who speaks them

Hail the one who knows them!

Gain, the one who gets them,
Hail, those who hear them!"


Godhi: "By the Bristles of the Boar!

Jolnir, lord of the Yule-Tide

We call upon thee to witness

These oaths of Yule

Jolaheit skaltu at heyra ok heit skullum ver at strengja!"


All: "Thou shalt hear the oaths of Yule and we shall bind our oaths!"


At this time the boar is lead around to the folk, and every true man and woman lays their hands upon the boar and gives a boast swearing

"By the Bristles of the Boar"

and proclaiming their oaths or boasts. Ending with the statement "To Jolnir and the oaths of Yule". This is repeated until all oaths are completed.


Godhi then returns to the Harrow stone, and performs the sacral duty while proclaiming these words:

"To Jolnir and the Oaths of Yule!"


After the sacrament is performed each person comes up to the harrow and is blessed. The words and statement will be through the personal inspiration given to the Godhi and Gydhja.


The Godhi then takes up the position before the Yule Wreath and pours a "holy fuel" upon it in a traditional fashion. While pouring incant:


"Jolnir, ruling the Yule-tide,

We yearn for thy might,

That when the yarn of the year is yielded

Yare the year and yard to make!"


The Gydhja takes up the red candle, signifying the old year passing away and ignites the Yule Wreath and intones:


"In the year of this Yule

Are we tried and true:

We plight our troth

and truly pledge

To hold these oaths

To the Aesir and the Vanir

To kith and kin and hearth

In these flames of the year's passing

In the year of this Yule!"


All: "Hail the Aesir and the Vanir. Hail to the folk who by their deeds serve them. Hail to Victory in the coming year and Hail to Jolnir and to the oaths of Yule!"


As the wreath burns the Godhi says:

"Jolnir, ruling the Yule,

We yearn for thy might;

That when the yarn of the year is yielded

Yare the year in the yard was made!"



Leaving: “Thus the work of the old year is wrought. The work of the new year begins. Contemplate the flames in silence as they burn the wreath, carrying the oaths aloft. Gaze on the glowing embers… you may be moved to make prophecies for the coming year, or find new meanings for the year now past. As your meditations draw to a close, you may quietly move back, we will end our ritual rightly as the embers lose their glow.”



"Thus our work again is wrought. It renews our hearts to do deeds worthy and true…to strive towards our goals with mighty moods, wise words and trust in our own powers and abilities...ever holding our oaths to ourselves and to our Folk…(Onward to Sumble and) ONWARD TO ULTIMATE VICTORY!!!”


All: “HAIL TO VICTORY…HAIL TO VICTORY…HAIL TO VICTORY!!!”



Chapter XLIV

Feast of Thonar (Þorrablót)

In Iceland, the feast of Þorri (falls on a Friday between 19 and 25
January) is seen as a time to celebrate the fact that the days are getting
longer again (and to keep up the spirits in the nastiest part of winter).
It is also a feast at which the Icelanders hark back to the trials of their
forebears by eating their ethnic food - sheeps' heads and a peculiar dish
called hákarl, which consists of Greenland shark buried in the ground for a
few weeks to rot and then dug up and eaten, and tastes just as horrible as
it sounds. Hákarl is usually eaten by alternating small bites of shark with
large sips of brennivín (the local Icelandic snaps, called Black Death for
good reason).

Icelandic tales about Þorri are rather limited; it seems to be a
traditional feast, as it is spoken of in Flateyjarbók (though the author
apparently did not know why the celebration was held, and simply invented a
"King Þorri" who held it on a regular date).

In 1728, Jón Halldorsson of Hitardal wrote a letter to Professor Árni
Magnússon of Copenhagen about Icelandic celebrations. Jón stated that the
celebration on Þorri's arrival was made so that it might be a mild month
for those offering the celebration. In the mid-19th century, the folklorist
Jón Arnason wrote that celebrations on the first day of Þorri were called
Þorrablót.

Þorrablót has gained much more popularity in the last century. A song about
the festival, "Þorraþrælinn 1866" tells of the complaint of a farmer in the
depths of winter; Þorri then comes to him and tells him, more or less, that
if he does his best in summer, his winters will go better, and he should
hold on, because spring is nearly there. As the title shows, this is not a
particularly old song, but it is rather cheery and nicely done. The words
and music can be found in Hvað er svo glatt (see "Resources and
Organizations" for ordering information). On Friday, 24 January 1873,
Icelandic students in Copenhagen celebrated Þórrablót according to their
idea of the ancient custom. In 1874, the people of the city Akureyri
celebrated this feast, and have done so every year since. In 1880,
Þorrablót was held in Reykjavík, but did not become a regular event until
the 1940s. The custom started spreading into rural areas in the 1900's.
Some christians object to the holding of Þorrablót, and make a point of
refusing to participate, since toasts are drunk to the Æsir and Vanir.

Generally, there is a vague sense that Þorri was some kind of
personification of winter, married to a womanly wight named Góa (the first
two months in the Icelandic calendar are supposed to be called after them).
According to some Icelandic traditions, the wife went out to greet Þorri
and the man went out the next month to greet Góa, who was addressed as
being milder than her rough husband. According to others, the man of the
farm was supposed to go out half-dressed and walk around the house at the
feast of Þorri.

In modern Ásatrú, we often hold the Þorri celebration as "Feast of Thonar".
There is no actual etymological connection between Þorri and Þórr, despite
the apparent similarities and the claims of certain booklets put out by
Iceland's Tourist Board. However, this is the time of year when the frost
is strongest and the weather worst - when the rime-thurses are at their
mightiest, and, as "Þorraþrællinn" mentions, "Kveður kuldaljóð Kári í
jötunmóð" - Kári (the Wind), in his etin-mod, sings a cold song. Thus, it
is the most fitting of times to call upon Thonar, whose Hammer wards us
from all the dark wights of winter and whose mighty mod cheers us through
the icy storms: it is he, after all, who drives back the rime-thurses and
thus should bring milder weather.

Since hákarl, luckily, cannot be gotten outside Iceland, there are several
other foods which might be thought fitting to the "Feast of Thonar". In
Hárbarðsljóð3, Þórr mentions that he has eaten "herring and oats" for
breakfast, to which Óðinn scornfully replies, "You deem your breakfast an
early deed". This passage has led to a certain tradition of serving herring
and oats for breakfast at Troth feasts (or at least making them available
for those who are up for doing early deeds). They are equally appropriate
dinner-foods for this feast. Lutefisk may be served in stead of hákarl;
blood sausage or "black pudding" is also fitting, as it was one of the main
staple foods of the Icelanders in the Viking Age. Akavit can be drunk in
place of brennivín (also not often exported). Goat cheeses are, of course,
appropriate.

Any of the myths of Þórr can be adapted as ritual dramas for this feast, or
read out or retold if you have someone in your group who is good at this.

Thonar-Blessing

The tools needed for this blessing are a Hammer, horn, ale, blessing bowl
and twig (by choice, oak), platter, and food for everyone to share with
Thonar. If anyone has anything in particular that s/he wishes to give to
the god, or have Thonar's blessing on, it should be brought to this rite.

I. The folk are gathered in darkness. The Godwo/man, Hammer in hand, turns
to the North and makes the sign of the Hammer while calling,

Wih-Thonar's Hammer hallows this stead,

hold us from harsh nibel-cold.

S/he turns to the East, u.s.w., calling,

Wih-Thonar's Hammer hallows this stead,

hold us from etins' ill.

S/he turns to the South, u.s.w.,

Wih-Thonar's Hammer hallows this stead,

hold us from Muspell's main.

S/he turns to the West, u.s.w.,

Wih-Thonar's Hammer hallows this stead,

hold us from Wyrm beneath waves.

S/he turns to the North again, swinging the Hammer in a circle above
his/her head and calling,

Ase-Thonar, ward us aye above!

S/he swings the Hammer downward in a Hammer-sign or circle, calling,

Buck-Thonar, ward us aye below!

Thy might roars through Middle-Garth here!

II. The Godwo/man lowers her/his arms and begins to speak, softly at first,
but with growing strength.

Rime-thurses howl and hare over fields,

through frost and frozen earth.

Kári sings harsh in cold etin-mood,

and green leeks nowhere grow.

The strong alone can stand through ice,

and hold hearts high through snow,

with mod and main with might of troth,

through winter, we keep cheer.

III. The Godwo/man continues to speak, lifting the red candle.

The lightning's flash our flame makes bright -

If the Godwo/man is good at lighting a fire fast with flint and steel, s/he
should do that now and light the candle from it; otherwise, a lighter will
do.

We hail the Hammer's stroke!

Main-Girdle's wearer, might-gauntlets' bearer,

swinger of staff of strength!

Mjöllnir's wielder Middle-Garth's shielder,

Thonar, thy thunder rings forth.

Drive out the rime-thurses thunder through snowfall,

bringing the earth to blither days,

as days grow longer doughtily fight thou,

against cold wights all in etin-mood fierce.

Helper aye of human folk,

who hunts over snowfields howling thurse-maids,

who won Hymir's cauldron for wassail of Ases,

in wain drawn by goats, wend to our feast!

IV. S/he fills the horn with ale and raises it, making the Hammer-sign over
it at each half-line.

Wih-Thonar mighty! Wyrm's sole bane!

Ase-Thonar, awesome! All-mighty god!

Wain-Thonar, strong one! Wielder of Hammer,

Will-Thonar, holy! Wodan's stark son!

The Godwo/man sips from the horn and passes it on. Each person Hammer-signs
it and makes a toast to Thonar.

V. The Godwo/man tops the horn up when it has made its round and pours the
ale into the blessing-bowl. S/he lifts it in both hands, speaking again.
S/he and the folk alternate lines.

Godwo/man: Hrungnir's woe-dealer, and Hymir's bane!

All: Thonar, we hail thee here!

Godwo/man: Slayer of Gjalp and Geirrøðr's death,

All: Mjöllnir-armed, hail thy might!

Godwo/man: Husband of Gold-Hair, hater of troll-kin,

All: Hlórriði, hail in thy wain!

Godwo/man: Goat-drighten, make we gifts to thee here!

All: Thonar, we hail thee here!

Each of the folk comes forward and puts a piece of food and any other gift
s/he should wish to give the god on the platter. As they do, the Godwo/man
sprinkles them with the ale from the blessing bowl, saying, "Wih-Thonar
blesses thee with alu-might." S/he blesses him/herself last of all, then
says,

Now feast we in frith with fighter-of-trolls,

the dark shall daunt us not.

Friend to all humans, foe to all ills,

Thonar, we hail thee here!

All cry out, "Thonar, we hail thee here!" The Godwo/man or rite-helper
should knock or bang loudly thrice - perhaps on something that will really
resound like thunder, such as an aluminium trash-can - and the rite is
over. The blessing-bowl and platter should hold their place all through the
night; in the morning, the bread should be placed on an oak-branch or on
the earth and the ale poured over it.

Contributors

Gamlinginn




Chapter XLV

Idis-Þing

In Sweden, a feast or fair called "Disting" (the Þing of the idises) was
held early in February, perhaps around February 2. De Vries thinks that
this feast, rather than Winternights, may well have been the feast spoken
of as dísablót in some cases (de Vries, Religionsgeschichte, I, p. 455). F.
Ström clarifies the difference as being regional: the Winternights dísablót
was West Nordic (Norwegian/Icelandic), the ploughing-time *Dísaþing or
dísablót, East Nordic (Swedish), while the public celebration of the West
Nordic dísablót only took place in the southeastern part of Norway (Nordisk
Hedendom, p. 194). It seems to have been something of a communal event, as
opposed to the private household rites of Winternights which were also
centered around the idises; the Disting was actually held as a public fair,
apparently the first large gathering of the year.

Other customs associated with this time were the ploughing of the first
furrows, which had special might. Cakes were laid in the first furrow,
likely as an offering to the earth and perhaps the field-wights. One
understanding of the first ploughing is seen on the Bronze Age rock carving
from Litsleby, Bohuslän (Sweden). An ithyphallic man with a hammer or axe
in one hand and a tree in the other is starting to plough the third furrow;
P.V. Gløb comments that "it is obvious that he is engaged in the first
ploughing of the year to awaken the earth's fruitfulness after the sleep of
winter with the phallus of the plough, the ploughshare", and cites the old
Bornholm saying that "'Three furrows in Thor give a green spring'" (Mound
People, p. 150). The tale of Gefjon ploughing out Sealand with her four
oxen-sons may well be rooted in the rites of this time.

In Teutonic Religion, the association of the plough breaking the ground
with the tale of Freyr and Gerðr is spoken of at some length: this feast is
the one at which Skírnir wins his way, breaking through Gerðr's resistance
by use of the thurisaz rune so that Freyr will be able to wed her and make
her fruitful. Under "Skaði", we have also spoken of another form of the
thawing of the wintry goddess. Either myth is fitting for performance as a
ritual drama at this time.

The discussion of Gerðr and Skaði in this book also brings up the
likelihood that the tales of the wooing of both of these goddesses were
related to the rite performed in "Völsa þáttr" (fully described in the
chapter on Fro Ing) in which the preserved horse phallus "Völsi" was passed
about with the refrain, "May the Mörnir (etin-women) take this blessing!"
It is possible that this rite might particularly have taken place around
the time of the Idis-Þing, for this is the time when the frozen fields must
be broken and the frozen earth coaxed to thaw by the same might - when the
winter goddesses cast off their cloaks and let fruitfulness spring forth
again. As well as the ritual dramas spoken of above, another way of calling
these powers forth (as seen in the rite below) would be to make your own
"Völsi" out of stuffed leather, paper-maché, or perhaps a large dried leek,
and let it be passed among the folk, with each holder making a verse that
ends "May the Mörnir receive this blessing!" The "Völsi" could then be set
into the first furrow, or kept for later use.

Idis-Þing: Rite

If possible, this rite should be done outdoors; if not, all the windows of
the house should be opened. You will need horn, blessing-bowl,
blessing-twig, ale, a whip, a "Völsi" (or, if shyness or the problems of
doing such a rite in public make this not a good idea, a bread baked in the
shape of a bull), a miniature plough or something that looks reasonably
like one, and a small round bread or cookie with a sun-wheel traced into
its top. If you cannot go outdoors for the ploughing part of the rite, you
will need a tray full of earth.

I. Godwo/man does Hammer-rite.

II. Godwo/man stands facing Northwards and calls out,

Idises all, awake from your sleep!

I hail you, holy, to Þing.

Dark from the north-ways day-bright from southward,

fare over air from the east,

fare over waters from west.

Frija from Fensalir, Frowe, we hail thee!

and all of the goddesses gathered about,

and all of the idises in your fair halls,

and all of the maids of might who dwell there.

Holda, cast off your hulling of frost,

Earth sleeps no more in still.

The birches are budding bright Sun is lighting,

the wind is wet with spring.

Idises waken from winter's long darkness,

holy, from worlds hid,

Idises' eyes are opened by summons,

thronging, they come to their Þing!

The Godwo/man fills the horn with ale and says, "Idises and goddesses all,
be well-come in this stead. Here at your holy Þing, we raise this horn to
you! S/he drinks and passes it on, each in turn toasting the idises and
goddesses.

III. Godwo/man lifts the whip, cracking it through the air three times and
then when-ever the rhythm of the call to Gefjon seems to need it. With the
last word, s/he strikes the earth three times with the whip.

Gefjon, plough-steerer, graving the land

urge thy oxen on!

Etin-might rising ruled by goddess,

steered and shaped by thy hand.

Gefjon, winning geld for thy tales,

urge thy oxen on!

green are the furrows grown behind plough-tooth

of Gefjon, giver of life!

IV. Godwo/man sets the whip down, puts both hands on the "Völsi" or bull,
saying,

Etin-maids shining awesome god-brides,

fair and cold as the frost,

Gerðr and Skaði glimmer before us,

barred from us by bright byrnie,

fenced off by flickering flame.

Etin-maids shining awesome god-brides,

white-armed as winter's snow,

Skaði in grimness Gerðr unloving,

still show their shapes unkind.

V. If the wooing of Skaði or Gerðr is to be done as a ritual drama, it
should take place here. Otherwise the Godwo/man goes on:

Bright might must flow to melt the ice,

shining with leaping light.

Here is goddess-greeter, gift to the dises,

to break the bark of earth,

to ease the hate of ice.

S/he lifts up the "Völsi" or bull and speaks a fitting verse, ending with
the words, "May the Mörnir take this blessing!" S/he passes it around the
folk and each of them do the same. For those whose word-skills are not
quite up to those of our forebears, some sample verses might be:

I take the vingull tall with might,

I shake it towards the shining brides.

He grows like a leek, and great, he springs up,

May the Mörnir take this blessing!

I lift the vingull aloft in hand,

I hail his height, the hallowed spring,

For fruitful fields and full wombs all,

May the Mörnir take this blessing!

I hold the vingull heartly blessing,

the might that flows that makes ice loose,

thrusting through the thurses' garth-walls,

May the Mörnir take this blessing!

VI. The Godwo/man puts the vingull or bull on the earth, saying once more,
"May the Mörnir take this blessing!" If a bread bull is used, s/he cuts its
throat as s/he speaks these words. S/he then takes up the plough and says,

Shining, the plough shall the earth furrow,

thrice is the thorn thrust to earth,

The plough must score that seeds spring forth.

First furrow drive forth a good year - s/he cuts the first furrow.

Furrow second drive seeding weal - s/he cuts the second.

Furrow third drive thews of troth - s/he cuts the third.

Nerthus kind we nytt thy gifts,

and Earth, who gives to all.

Gefjon, we greet thee as growing starts,

goddess who gives at need.

The Godwo/man lifts the round bread, saying,

Now see we Sun-wheel as she rises brightly,

and glad shines on the ground.

Sun to earth we send with bread,

and shall all have their share.

S/he breaks the bread into three pieces and lays a piece into each furrow.
S/he fills the horn with ale again, signs the Sun-wheel over it and says,
"To the all-giving Earth!" S/he drinks and passes it around the circle,
pouring what is left into the blessing bowl after.

VII. The Godwo/man takes up the blessing twig, dips it in the bowl, and
sprinkles the plough and vingull, saying, "Blessed be those who open the
earth." S/he then sprinkles the harrow if there is one and each of the
folk, speaking such blessings as s/he feels inspired to. S/he lifts the
blessing bowl, pouring the ale slowly onto the earth as s/he says,

Ale to earth and all to nytt,

thus be the blessing made!

Hail the idises all!

The folk answer, "Hail the idises all!" The rite is over.




Chapter XLVI

Ostara (Eostre)

The first mention of the goddess Ostara (Old High German), or Eostre
(Anglo-Saxon) comes in Bede's De Temporum Rationale, in which the christian
cleric tells us only that she is a Heathen goddess after whom a month
(April, roughly) was named and that during this month a holiday was
celebrated in her name. The Frankish Ostarmanoth (recorded in Einhard's
Life of Charlemagne) and the surviving Modern German name for the festival,
Ostern, support the belief that she was known among the continental Germans
as well. Not only was she known, but she must have been well-known and
firmly rooted, since her name had to be kept even for the christian feast.
The name Ostara does not seem to have been known in Scandinavia at all;
though we have no evidence for it, it is quite tempting to suggest that
Iðunn may have stood in her stead.

Her name is closely related to the word "East". The same Germanic root is
seen in the folk-name "Ostrogoths", which means "the 'Goths of the rising
sun' - hence 'East Goths' - or the 'Goths glorified by the rising sun'"
(Wolfram, History of the Goths, p. 25). It may ultimately derive from the
Indo-European *aus- ("shine"), from which the Latin aurora and Greek eos
(both meaning "dawn") came; its general range of connotations are
brightness/dawn/East/glory. This suggests strongly that Ostara was seen as
a goddess of dawn, as well as a goddess of the spring.

The time at which our forebears held this feast is not at all sure, except
that it was sometime in April for the Anglo-Saxons and Continental Germans.
It has been suggested, by Grimm among others, that the original feast may
have been the one at the beginning of May, the customs of which were then
pushed back to fit the christian feast. However, the designation of April
as "Ostara-Month" by both English and Germans may tend rather to show that
the feasts were separate. Yule and Midsummer, which both fall near the end
of the month, have their respective months December/January and June/July
designated as Fore-Yule and After-Yule, Fore-Litha and After-Litha; and if
the Ostara feast had been the same as May Day, we might have expected to
see a matching Fore-Easter and After-Easter. Still, there does seem to be a
great deal of overlap between the customs practiced for both of them (fires
and fire-leaping, driving out of Winter and welcoming Summer), especially
in Scandinavia, where summer does not really seem to begin until May Day
and the earlier Easter-feast is less a celebration of the Sun's sig than a
promise that the weather will start warming soon. It is quite possible, as
well, that the Scandinavians, who did not know Ostara and for whom summer
came later in the year, only held the one festival at the beginning of May,
and that some of the feast's traditions (for instance, the belief in the
witches holding their revels at this time) were simply displaced to the
christian Paschal celebration.

In modern practice, the two favoured dates for Ostara are either the spring
equinox or the first full moon (sometimes new moon) after the spring
equinox. This may be modified by where you live and other circumstances;
for instance, spring comes much earlier to Dallas than it does to Ottawa.
In general, we would suggest holding Ostara's feast during the waxing Moon,
as there are some hints that the Moon may have been important to her
festival (for instance, the "Ostara-Moon" pastries cited by Grimm, below)
and because this is the time of new-springing and growing might.

Today, we see Ostara as being dressed in white. This may go back to early
times; German folklore, for instance, has white-clad women appearing on
rock-clefts and mountains at dawn on Easter morning, a belief which Grimm
suggests is related to the goddess Ostara (Teutonic Mythology, I, p. 291).
One of these is the white maiden of Osterrode, who appears with a large
bunch of keys at her girdle (the sign of a married woman in our forebears'
times), who goes down to the brook to wash every Easter Sunday before
sunrise. Similar tales are told throughout Germany (Grimm, Teutonic
Mythology, III, p. 963); Grimm also mentions that hills were particularly
holy to this goddess (IV, p. 1371).

Diana Paxson has suggested that the hare may well have been Ostara's holy
beast, slain and eaten only at her festival. The Tuvasgården bracteate
(Hauck, Goldbrakteaten, Tafeln 2, p. 137) shows a single, rather stylized
hare, which strengthens the understanding of this beast as especially holy;
very few other bracteates have single natural animals, and when they do, it
is usually birds of prey or something of similar mythic resonance. The hare
is especially a beast of springtime, since it is in March and April that
they are seen "dancing" on their hind legs (fighting and courting) in the
fields. This is usually seen at dawn (since hares are night-beasts) which
offers another reason for linking them with Ostara. The belief in the
"Easter hare" bringing eggs was first written down in Germany, and seems to
have stemmed from that country; German children still build nests for the
hare to lay its eggs in. In Germany, also, a rich buttery bread decorated
with almonds and currants is often baked in the shape of a hare at this
time, and bakery windows are full of hare-breads, cookies, and cakes. The
Ostara Hare is certainly Heathen; to the christians, the hare was
especially the symbol of lust and not to be encouraged. Hares mate when
very young, and the does can produce several litters each year, hence the
common vulgar expression, "to fuck like a bunny".

Squirrels are also part of the Easter rites in the Harz mountains of
Germany: the people of Bräunrode go into the nearest woodland to hunt
squirrels "by throwing stones and cudgels, till at last the animals drop
exhausted into their hands, dead or alive" (Grimm, Teutonic Mythology, II,
p. 616).

The use of eggs as signs of life goes back to early times; clay eggs
painted white with red and black stripes were found in a child's grave in
Worms, and may have served a purpose like that of the apples given to the
dead. The hunting of Easter eggs is common throughout America, Germany,
Denmark, Yugoslavia, Switzerland, and parts of France. In Germany, the eggs
are often placed among nettles or thornbushes so that the children who want
them have to show either bravery and hardiness by plunging straight into
the thorns, or cleverness by figuring out how to get them without getting
pricked. This may also be kin to the mock switchings which are carried out
at this time: the sting is the thorn of waking, the bright counterpart to
the dark sleep-thorn, bringing both fruitfulness and wakefulness.

In England, it was especially traditional to go up on a hill and roll
coloured eggs down the hill (Christian, Country Life Book of Old English
Customs, p. 114).

In Germany, eggs are blown out, painted, and hung on flowering trees
outside; flowering branches are also brought in for making "egg-trees"
within the home. Such blown eggs will keep indefinitely, and are often
decorated very elaborately and packed away safely every year. Blown eggs
are very fragile, and eggs which have been painted and hung outside tend to
run in the rain, but it has been found that a few coats of clear spray-on
polyurethane will make painted eggs waterproof and their shells very
difficult to break.

Gunnwar Skaðadóttir recalls customs of her husband's family, passed down
from his Russian-born grandmother (whose family came from Lake Ladoga,
originally settled by the Swedish Rus):

"On Easter, a "pile" of food, vegetables, fruits, etc. of the previous
year's harvest would be made up. Added to it would be a fresh ham. It was
extremely important, according to Ken's grandmother, that the ham be
freshly killed that same day. In fact, she and her husband kept pigs at
their home for this exact purpose each year.

"The food had to be kept undisturbed until the priest came around to
"bless" it. The priest did not wear his normal garb, but what Ken's
grandmother called "robes". Since she's nearly 80 now, her memory on this
point wasn't quite clear.

"A special bread would be made out of particular grains (another point she
was rather shaky on - this bread is available commercially - it's flat,
thin, and white - looks a bit like styrofoam, actually) and blessed, and
then it would be "shared" at the holiday meal with everyone else. You would
go around and take pieces off everybody's piece and eat them, and everyone
would come around and take pieces off yours to eat.

"Their egg custom, however, was the one that caught my eye. Everyone would
take one of the eggs that they had personally dyed and would try to smash
everyone else's egg. Sort of an 'egg war' - you smash them on the ends like
you're jousting almost (she adds later that they would actually put thorns
or other "stickers" on the business ends of the eggs). According to Ken's
grandmother, when your egg got broken, the essence of the egg (its might)
would be released on the person."

Another means of giving egg-might has been taken up by Ásatrúar in South
Texas: the making and breaking of "cascarones". These are blown eggs which
have been filled with confetti (a small circle of shell is removed at one
end and the egg filled; a piece of tissue-paper is then glued over the
hole). These eggs must either be decorated before the hole is opened or
spray-painted after filling. The cascarones are then broken on other
peoples' heads as a blessing. This is a much nicer way of releasing the
egg-might on someone than is breaking a raw egg upon them.

You should eat as many eggs as you can at this time, and especially
encourage your children to eat them as well. Various collections of
folklore from Germany, Scandinavia, and Orkney tell us that the eating of
Easter eggs is said to bode strength, health, and good growing.

In A Book of Troth, Thorsson mentions that it is traditional to toss an
Easter egg high in the air and try to catch it with shell unbroken; those
who do this get great luck for the year to come (p. 185).

It is traditional in many places, especially Germany, to keep Easter eggs
and shells all year to ward the family and cattle against harm, and they
are also used very specifically as a charm against hail and lightning. In
both Germany and Czechoslovakia, an egg which was laid on Thursday was
taken, coloured green for fruitfulness, and buried in the largest
wheat-field. After burial, the egg was flanked on either side with a
burning "hail cross" (Newall, An Egg at Easter, p. 248). The Thursday egg
is an obvious remnant of the worship of Þórr, here invoked in his fertility
aspect to bless the fields, and as the God of Storm to protect the new
crops against the springtime hailstones, while the burning cross is a
christianized remnant of the old Sun-wheel. Charred sticks saved from the
fires were kept and taken home to protect the home against hail, fire, and
lightning, and the ashes of the fires were often spread in the fields for
fertility.

Fires were very important to the Ostara rites of our forebears. Among the
German-descended inhabitants of Fredricksburg, Texas, as Gunnora Hallakarva
recalls, the inhabitants still light bonfires on the tops of nearby hills
on Holy Saturday. In Germany, sun-wheels were made from oakwood, straw, and
green branches, and brought to the tops of the highest hills. There the
wheels were set aflame, and the burning sun-wheel sent rolling down the
hill and through the fields of the village below, literally bringing the
might of the Sun and the warmth of its rays into the fields which were to
be ploughed and sown (Newall, An Egg at Easter, p. 326). One common belief
associated with the fire festivals was that the men alone were allowed to
take part, and women were kept strictly away from the vicinity of the fire,
suggesting that men will absorb the might and fruitfulness of Fro Ing or
Thonar when they take part in such a rite. Gunnora Hallakarva suggests that
today's Ásatrúar might adapt these spring fire rites to modern use by using
one of the "Catherine's Wheel" type of fireworks, or actually construct a
small sun-wheel, placed high atop a pole to be lit. Rather than taking the
burning wheel around one's home or apartment, burning candles or torches
might be lit from it, and be used to carry the flame around instead.

In Hildesheim, the Easter fire was particularly struck with a steel, and
Grimm also mentions the tradition of lighting it with a burning-glass or
piece of crystal (Teutonic Mythology, II, p. 616). The latter would be
particularly mighty for this day, drawing in and concentrating the very
fire of the Sun, though as a single element in ritual it might be thought
rather tedious and difficult. Possibly someone could begin the process
during the main dawn rite, and when the fire finally does start, use it for
blessings or the procession afterwards.

Ostara is the time for the Wanic wain-procession of fruitfulness; the
Nerthus procession written of by Tacitus took place in the spring, and the
Anglo-Saxon Rune Poem's verse for Ing has the god coming "from the East",
which also suggests the likelihood of a connection with this festival.
Gunnwar Skaðadóttir mentions her grandmother-in-law's recollection of how
the "Christ-child" would be brought about in a little wain at Easter -
hardly anything having to do with the christian feast, but bearing more
than a slight resemblance to the fruitfulness-rounds of Freyr. In modern
times, such a procession can either be done with a Wanic god/ess image set
in a wagon decorated with flowers, apples, cakes and so forth (or perhaps
even done up to represent a ship) that is pulled about the grounds or the
neighborhood - or those who wish to spread their blessings more widely
might decorate their cars as if for a wedding, with the lead-car carrying
the god/ess image, and drive about the borders of their town.

In Sweden and southern Finland, the Easter-season is especially thought to
be a time when witches are abroad: they were thought to fly off to the
mountain Blåkulla to "consort with the Devil" on Maundy Thursday and come
back on Holy Saturday. "People did everything they could to protect
themselves from the evil powers at play these days. They lit bonfires, shot
off fire-arms into the sky, painted crosses, stars, and other holy symbols
over their doors, buried psalters under their thresholds and hung scythes
and axes criss-cross over their livestock" (Liman, Traditional Festivities
in Sweden, p. 9). Some of these rites are clearly meant as wardings, and
will remind us of the crosses and knives used by christians at Yule-time;
others, such as the bonfires and perhaps fire-arms, are likelier to stem
from Heathen celebration.

It is also traditional in these countries for young maidens to dress up as
witches, often with brightly coloured kerchiefs over their heads, and go
about in a manner similar to the American Trick-or-Treat. In southern
Finland, as observed by KveldúlfR Gundarsson, the "Easter-Witches" pluck
pussy-willow branches (the pussy-willow is the first tree to bud at this
time, and the Finns think of its soft gray blossoms as the first sign of
spring), which they decorate with ribbons. The girls go about with the
branches they have adorned, giving them to passers-by in return for coins
and sweets; those who have nothing to give to the witches must listen to
verses of mocking.

In the old days, of course, these "witches" might well have been travelling
spae-wives, or perhaps followers or godwomen of the Frowe bringing her
blessings. This may still happen today; or the young girls of a kindred
might be decked out in white dresses and red scarves, and carry decorated
birch or pussy-willow branches around to the grown members, perhaps with
apples as well, giving their blessings and getting money and candy in
return (the boys, we will remember, had done something similar at Yule as
"Yule-Swains").

One of the most common elements throughout the Germanic lands was the
ritual battle between Summer and Winter, ending with Winter being either
slain or beaten out of the village, while Summer often claims a fair maiden
for his bride. Grimm mentions the Middle German ôsterspil (Ostara-play)
which seems to have been a sword-dance for twelve men and showed Summer
beating Winter out of the land. He adds that a particular type of sword,
the "Ostara-Sax" was used, which "leads us to infer that a sword of
peculiar antique shape was retained; as the Easter scones, ôsterstuopha,
and moonshaped ôstermâne indicate pastry of heathenish form" (Teutonic
Mythology, II, pp. 780-81). This battle is an excellent source of ritual
drama, and several of the poems in the Elder Edda (for instance,
Svipdagsmál, Skírnismál, and Sigrdrífumál) seem to hold elements of such a
rite, with Svipdagsmál probably being the best example. In Teutonic Magic,
Kveldulf Gundarsson has a script for a ritual drama roughly based on
Svipdagsmál and Sigrdrífumál. Modern Ásatrúar often see Summer as the
bright Fro Ing coming to bless the lands.

Even without a full-combat drama, the beating and burning or drowning of an
effigy of Winter is a very common Germanic folk custom. One way in which
this may be done is - if you had a "Last Sheaf" which you hung outside at
Winternights or a like sheaf-offering "to the birds" at Yule - to take the
winter-sheaf and make it into a tomtegubber or "corn-dolly" which embodies
Old Man Winter. If this is done a few days before Ostara and the
tomtegubber kept in a warm place, he will be very dry and burn easily.
Whether you are going to burn Winter or toss him into the water, be sure
that he is of an organic material which will burn or fall apart in the
water easily. For the latter purpose, a figure made of bread might be the
best idea. A human being can also play Winter, being switched and then
ducked three times in a pond, lake, or river.

Ostara was called "Sig-Blessing" by the Norse, and we must also remember
that her feast marked the time at which battles could begin again. It is
fitting to hail Wodan as Sig-Father at this time, and also to bless Thonar
for his sig over the rime-thurses. Swords and spears are by no means
unfitting to this rite, though it must be remembered that the Wanic
procession is always one of frith, during which no weapons may be drawn.

The "Hail Day" section from Sigrdrífumál is almost always spoken somewhere
in the course of an Ostara rite.

Ostara Rite

Usually, we try to hold an all-night watch on Ostara. This can be livened
up with symbel, ritual dramas, the procession of the "Easter Witches" -
and, most of all, communal egg-painting, confetti-egg making, and so forth.
The contents of eggs that are blown out this night can be saved and made
into omelettes for breakfast. Some of the painted eggs can be hidden for an
egg-hunt the next day.

The rite itself should be done at dawn, outside if possible or with the
windows open. The tools needed will be Hammer, horn with drink (mead or
cider would be best, but ale or wine are all right), water drawn from a
running spring at sunrise the day before, blessing-bowl and sprinkling-twig
(birch and pussy willow are the two best choices for this rite), a
Winter-effigy or person with a dark cloak and straggly gray wig and beard,
three candles (white, red, and black or deep purple/blue), a bowlful of
golden apples and a bowlful of painted eggs (one for each person there).
Everyone will also need a flexible young branch, by choice birch or willow,
for whipping Winter. The Godwo/man should be dressed in white, perhaps with
a red, green, or golden belt. Her/his hair, if long enough, should be
brushed down to flow freely. If the rite is led by a Godman, there should
also be a white-clad idis to bear the horn, apples, and eggs.

I. The folk are gathered in a ring about the harrow. Winter stands or is
propped up at the North. The Godwo/man does the Hammer Rite.

II. The Godwo/man faces Eastward, speaking.

Hail to Ostara, eastwards lighting,

white maiden, in thy might.

Step through the door of Delling, glimmering,

lifting the lance of day,

offering eggs of day,

giving the gifts of day.

Hail to Thonar! home come from thurse-realm,

thy winter warring done.

Shining in sig, striker of etins,

Storm-god, we hail thee here!

Hail thee, Fro Ing! ride here in thy wain,

to drive winter from our doors.

With stag-antler shining, sig-sign uplifted

we see thee, summertime king,

beat out all Winter's bale,

no longer linger he here!

III. The folk fall upon Winter, whipping him three times about the circle
(if an effigy is used, he must be carried by someone). As they do this,
they cry out:

Now death must die and dawn have sig,

now winter ends and woe is fled.

Ice-melt flowing, fetters loosening,

fair-shining Fro fells winter's dark.

If Winter is to be drowned, the folk whip him along to the pond or stream
into which the image may be cast or in which a human Winter is ducked
thrice, coming up the third time without wig, beard, or cloak. If Winter is
to be burned, he is now set on fire - preferably by need-fire or
flint-and-steel, if there is someone in the company who can make either of
these reliably and fast. The pyre should already be set with plenty of fuel
so that it will continue burning until after the rite is over.

If Winter is drowned, the folk should dip their branches in the water and
lash each other lightly; if he is burned, they should pass them through the
smoke and do the same, saying, "Awake, awake! Frith dawns, and a fruitful
year."

IV. The Godwo/man says,

Hail to our Fro, who's freed the earth,

the shining Summer King!

Now Sunna treads the sky's blue rim,

the sig-queen takes her stead.

V. All raise hands above heads, looking upward and chanting together,

Hail, Day! hail, Day's sons!

hail to Night and her daughter!

With loving eyes look you upon us,

and sig give to those standing here!

Hail to the gods! Hail the goddesses,

hail the all-giving Earth!

Fair speech and wit to famed ones here grant,

and healing hands, while we live.

Hail!

VI. The Godwo/man takes the white candle and lights it, saying,

Burn ever brightly, blithe candle white,

dawn-flame on threshold of day.

Set for us sig strong in the morn-light,

fire blessed by Norns fair!

S/he takes the red candle and lights it, saying,

Burn ever brightly, brave candle red

day-flame on threshold of day.

We shall win sig through Sun's long faring,

fire, be blessed by Norns bright!

S/he takes the black candle and lights it, saying,

Burn ever brightly, black candle, wise,

dusk-flame on threshold of day.

We shall hold sig at summer's ending,

fire, so deemed by Norns dark!

VII. The Godwoman or idis lifts the baskets of apples and eggs. The
Godwo/man says,

Iðunn awesome! Ostara's fires

burn to brighten thy way.

Green aye new-growing from ground 'neath your footsteps,

holy frowe, fare here!

To apples and eggs all give your blessing,

Iðunn and Ostara fair,

bearing in blitheness buds of our new life,

bearing the blessings of dawn.

S/he sprinkles the two baskets with the holy spring-water. The Godwoman or
idis bears the baskets around, sprinkling each person with spring water as
they take an egg and an apple and saying, "Iðunn and Ostara bless you." If
this burden has proven to be unwieldy when you practiced the rite, she may
draw the baskets in a small wain behind her, or more than one woman may
help in carrying.

Contributors

KveldúlfR Hagan Gundarsson and Gunnora Hallakarva, from "Easter", in
Mountain Thunder

Diana Paxson

Gunnwar Skaðadóttir

Eric Wodening

The Heathen Kinship Ostarra is a modified version of this rite:

The Blessing of Ostara


Materials/Setup: Sword (opt.) / Rite should begin at dawn and/or participants should face East.


Hallowing: 1. Hammer Signing

2. Hammer Rite


(The speaker faces the sunrise while standing in the elk rune posture and says):


"This stead is hallowed for our work here this holy morn. As the god Heimdall wards the Bifrost Bridge, so is this stead warded against all unholy wights and ways!"


(After a short pause the speaker continues):


"Hail Holy Ostara! Hail the daughter born at Delling's door, at the gate of day who bears the morning light! Hail Ostara, Lady of the Spring Dawn!"


Reading: Sigrdrífumál (Hollander's Trans. pg.233)

Sigurth rode over Hindar Fell and made his way South to Frankland. On the fell he saw a bright light, as though a fire were burning there, and it shone to very heaven. When he drew near, he found there a wall of shields, and a banner loomed above it. He entered into this wall of shields and saw that in it slept some one in full war weeds. Sigurth first lifted the helmet off the sleeper's head, and then he saw that it was a woman. Her coat of mail was tight about her as though it were grown to the flesh. With his sword Gram he slit the byrnie, from the neck down, and also both sleeves, and took it off.

Then she awoke and sate up, and beheld Sigurth, and said:

1. "What slit my byrnie? How was broken my sleep?

Who lifted from me the leaden weight?"

He answered:

"'Tis Sigmund's bairn--- on Fafnir's body

raven batten----- tis' Sigurth's brand."

She said:

"Hail to thee, day! Hail, ye day's sons!

Hail, night and daughter of night!

With blithe eyes look on both of us:

send to those sitting here speed!


"Hail to you, gods! Hail, ye goddesses!

Hail earth that givest to all!

Goodly spells and speech bespeak we from you,

and healing hands, in this life."


Rede: (Facing East) "This morning we are gathered to call forth the mighty Lady of the new born light. Warded by the steeds of Sky, she rises and gives us light, love and playful lust. She bears also, a terrible and awesome side...MEAN and MIGHTY! This side our foes do dispute and in it they will find their doom, yet we too, must know this side well and LOVE it well for to wax great in wisdom. This is so just as a man and a woman must know the aspects of the other to wax strong in family and love."


Call: (Speaker raises the sword from the harrow and then salutes the East with these words):


" Ostara, we raise the sign of the sword in thy honor. Come and dwell among our folk! In the dawn we see thy birth, in the day we know thy power and in the dusk we trust that thou shalt turn back to us full well soon."


(Speaker then replaces the sword onto the harrow and says):


"EASTER, MIGHTY AND LOVELY OSTARA...DROTTING OF DAWN WE CALL THEE...QUEEN OF THE HEAVENS...CLOTHED IN WHITE AND GOLD...BREAK NOW FORTH IN ALL THY MIGHT, LET US AGAIN KNOW THY HOLY MAIN!"


(The speaker now lights the three candles in the following order: WHITE-RED-BLACK. While lighting the candles the speaker says):


"We kindle the three-fold fire of spring. On this new dawn of the year we light the flame of its birth. (Light the white candle) We light the flame of its life (light the red candle) and we kindle the lamp of its death (light the black candle)...Here lies the timeless and ever becoming power of our souls."


Loading: (Speaker pours mead into horn and holds it aloft while saying):


"To thee, Awesome Easter, who knows the ways of Wotan, we give to thee the gifts of our works - woven and blended with the might and main of the mead. As we lend you this mead, so in turn lend us thy might and lusts...haunt our hearts, abide in our breaths, make whole our minds and mighty our moods and memories!"


HAIL EASTER!


HAIL THE AWESOME OSTARA!


(All respond):


"HAIL OSTARA! HAIL OSTARA! HAIL OSTARA!"


Drinking: (Done in standard fashion)


Blessing: (The speaker sprinkles the harrow while walking around it three times and then sprinkles the folk while intoning the words):


"The blessings of Ostara be upon us" - (harrow)


(The words used upon blessing the folk shall be at will)


Giving: (Contents of the blessing bowl are poured out to the east with the words):


"To Ostara, Lady of lust and light, we give this gift!"


Leaving: "The work of wonder and love is wrought! The Fires of Spring burn, the power of Ostara shines forth, She blooms in our minds and we move with her might. May we know her blessings throughout the year!”


Speaker: “Hail Ostara!”


(All respond): “Hail Ostara!”


Thus our work again is wrought. It renews our hearts to do deeds worthy and true…to strive towards our goals with mighty moods, wise words and trust in our own powers and abilities…ever holding our oaths to ourselves and to our folk…(Onward to Sumble and) ONWARD TO ULTIMATE VICTORY!!!!”


(All respond):


"HAIL TO VICTORY! HAIL TO VICTORY! HAIL TO VICTORY!"




Chapter XLVII

Waluburg's Night

The May Eve festival is one held by all the Germanic peoples. It is
generally known as "Walpurgisnacht", after the christian St. Walpurga or
Walburga; the native Teutonic name for the festival has not survived. The
Oxford Dictionary of Saints tells us that "(Walburga's) feast of 1 May
inappropriately coincided with a pagan feast for the beginning of summer
and the revels of witches, whence the customs of Walpurgisnacht, which have
no intrinsic connection with the saint. It is, however, not impossible that
the protection of crops ascribed to her and represented by the three ears
of corn in her images may have been transferred to her from Mother Earth"
(p. 395). However, many folk choose to give the name "Walpurga" a Heathen
reading, though it is incorrect to associate the first element with Wal- as
"Slain" and thus to connect it either with the cult of Wodan or with the
Frowe as the chooser of her share from the battlefield. The name's original
form was "Wald-Burga" (Wood-Protection). However, a similar name,
"Waluburg", is recorded for a Germanic seeress in the second century C.E.;
this probably derives from *walus (stave or staff), just as the word
"Völva" does (Simek, Dictionary, pp. 370-71), and thus is wholly fitting to
this night of magic.

Waluburg's Night is probably best-known as the night when witches gather to
feast, as at the Brocken in the Harz mountains (Germany), which was
recorded as their meeting-site as early as the fifteenth century (Grimm,
Teutonic Mythology, III, p. 1051). A similar belief from Russian folklore
was set to music by Modest Mussorgsky, as the well-known piece "Night on
Bald Mountain". As spoken of under "Ostara", it is possible that the
"Easter Witches" of Sweden and Finland might first have been thought to go
about at this time, but that the belief was displaced to the earlier
holiday. In Jutland, there was a special prayer said at this time which
asked for blessing for cows and calves, horses and foals, sheep and lambs,
goats and kids, swine and piglets, geese and goslings, cow-milk and
sheep-milk, ale and brandy, brewing and baking, and so forth - showing the
repetition and attention to detail characteristic of magical charms. This
prayer also included a verse banning "all etins and troll-folk....south and
north, east and west" from the house; it is likely that the Danes shared
the common belief in this night as a night of magic when all sorts of wild
beings might be abroad (Bjarne Troelsen, Nordisk Bondereligion, p. 60). As
at Yule-time, the house and cattle were warded carefully on this night.
Rowan and crosses tied with red thread were two of the most common
protections the christians put up against the witches and troll-folk at
this time. In Ásatrú, it is seen as more fitting to put out food and drink
for the sundry night-farers, as the Celts also do on this night.

This is a good time for seiðr-workings and for fore-seeing of all sorts.

Waluburg's Night was also a night of folk festivals, one of which was
described in detail by Nicolay Jæger in the early eighteenth century. The
folk rode out with beating of drums; one person went before them with a
white banner with a cross on it. The next folk rode with a "May-spear",
which was danced about in every village they came to. The folk stayed up
late at night, drinking, dancing, and enjoying themselves (Troelsen,
Nordisk Bondereligion, p. 64). In Scandinavia, Waluburg's Night (the German
name has simply been translated as Valborg) is seen as the true beginning
of spring, and is still a time of great rejoicing. In Uppsala, university
students put on their white caps and gather to celebrate the end of winter;
in Helsinki, the whole city holds ecstatic outdoors festivals, often with
all-night drinking.

In the old days, this feast was probably most often held on mountain-tops
or on gravemounds. Troelsen cites a reference from 1847 to a "Pinseberghøj"
("pentecostal mountain-howe"), which was danced around on this night, as
were several other Danish gravemounds (Nordisk Bondereligion, pp. 65-66).

Waluburg's Night is also a night for love - a Teutonic equivalent of the
modern Western Valentine's Day: German youths go out to gather green
branches and flowers, which they put at the windows or doors of their
chosen maidens before May Day dawns. For this reason, as well as the
witch-meetings, Waluburg's Night is especially thought of by Ásatrúar today
as a feast of the Frowe, patroness of magic and love. It is very fitting
for true folk to give love-gifts and cards on this day; amber hearts are
especially well-suited as declarations of love.

According to German folklore, this is the night on which a blue flame burns
over buried treasures - the fiery might of the gold showing itself forth.
This may cause one to think of the Frowe's Gullveig-Heiðr burning
initiation in which the gold-woman was thrice eaten by flames and reborn as
a seeress.

Fires are a great part of the celebration at this time, especially
need-fires. The need-fire, kindled by the friction of wood on wood (see
"Working Rites and Holding Feasts"), is the form with the most magical
power, particularly for turning aside an ill wyrd, sickness, or curses: and
Waluburg's Night is the mightiest night for such a working. Cattle were led
through the smoke of such fires to cleanse and protect them, and folk
jumped over the fires for good luck. Grimm cites, among other uses, the
Highlands custom of boiling a pot of water on such fire and sprinkling the
water on people and cattle suffering from diseases (Teutonic Mythology, II,
p. 610). He also mentions that such fires were often laid with nine kinds
of wood.

As well as fires, greenery is much used in the traditional celebration of
Waluburg's Night. The May-Tree, a large bough adorned with ribbons and such
and borne about the village in a festive procession ("bringing in the
May"), is known from the south of Germany to Scandinavia, and may have been
part of Germanic spring/summer rites as early as the Bronze Age, as some of
the Swedish and Danish rock-carvings show. Fossenius mentions that in the
Saar area, it was particularly a birch-tree chosen for the procession, and
that the riders stopped before every house (p. 69); conifers were also
common choices for May Trees, perhaps because their needles were also seen
as warding against evil wights (p. 326). May-songs were sung about this
tree in many of the Germanic countries, including England: Fossenius
quotes,

We have been rambling all this night,

And almost all the day,

And now returned back again,

We have brought you a branch of May.

A Branch of May we have brought you,

And at your door it stands

it is but a sprout, but it's well budded out

by the work of Our Lord's hand.

(pp. 71-72). The May-tree was very often stripped of bark and branches up
to the point, leaving only a small crown of foliage. These trees clearly
show the springing might of rebirth and fruitfulness. Egg-shells were also
used to decorate both the May tree and maypole, rather in the manner of the
egg-trees still common in Germany at Ostara-time (Fossenius, p. 347).

The Maypole can, for obvious reasons, be read as a particular embodiment of
the might of Fro Ing, although in some parts of Sweden (Västergötland,
Bohuslän, Nordhalland) it was also set up in the shape of a womanly figure.
Maypoles take many different shapes. The typical Bavarian Maypole, for
instance, is a long post painted with blue and white stripes or wound with
ribbons, and ringed with hanging garlands. On this Maypole, symbols showing
the work of all the folk in the village are hung or nailed. In England, the
Maypole is the familiar sort topped with long streamers which are woven
about it in the traditional Maypole dance, but it was also commonly
decorated with branches and flowers. The Danish Maypole often has the form
of a cross, with wreaths hanging from the cross-arms; it is likewise
decorated with greenery as well as ribbons. In Bavaria and German Bohemia,
the Warder of the Lore has also seen that it is still common for folk to
decorate the living birch trees in their yards with coloured ribbons on May
Day.

In Denmark, the young women went to the woods to make wreaths of flowers,
with which, when they came back to the village, they crowned and garlanded
the May-Bridegroom (chosen by the last year's May Bride); he then chose a
maiden to crown as his bride (Nordisk Bondereligion, p. 60). In Germany,
the young man was covered with birch and willow branches and green bushes
until no one could recognise him; then the folk had to guess his name. When
the man's actual name was spoken, he was uncovered and the branches divided
out among all the folk - especially the young maidens, who then put the
twigs on their windowsills (Fossenius, p. 74). Sometimes he might be ducked
in a pond, so that the flying drops of water from his splashing should
bless those around him. Here, it seems clear that the youth was thought to
embody Fro Ing or a like god, walking in the Middle-Garth for a little time
to give his hallowing to the folk. The May Queen and King might well have
been thought of as bearing the might of Frowe and Fro; it is also possible
that - especially in areas where only one ruler of the May was chosen -
they could have been seen as sacrifices similar to the maiden who was
wedded to the Last Sheaf (see "Winternights"). These things traditionally
happened, not on May Eve, but on May Day itself; it is good for a group to
camp out all night, or else meet again early in the morning at May Day.

Waluburg's Night: Rite

This ritual should start around sunset or a little after. If at all
possible, it should be held outdoors, by choice in a high place. You will
need at least two fires on the site so that folk can walk between them. If
it is indoors, the fires can be replaced with a candle, which, assuming
that all possible safety precautions are taken, can be carefully leapt over
at the end of the rite. It is best if there is someone in the group who is
able to kindle a need-fire, but if not, matches (though not lighters or
flint-and-steel) may be used instead.

You will need need-fire tools or matches, horn, blessing-bowl, ale,
sprinkling-twig (birch or elder, by choice), and a May-Tree.

I. The Godwo/man does the Hammer-Rite.

II. The Godwo/man stands in an inverted elhaz stance (hands at sides, feet
spread) and speaks:

Bright is the glow of gold hid in earth,

bright is the Rhine's red fire!

Gullveig's might kindles candles through worlds,

we greet the goddess gold-fair!

Above howe and holt high wings the falcon,

flashing as fire through night.

Heithe is flying, hunting for wisdom,

we greet the goddess gyr-winged!

Light burns in rings around Brísing-necklace,

fairest of finery all.

The Frowe is faring forth in wood and sky,

we greet the goddess gem-bright!

Waluburg, Waluburg! wise one, fore-sighted,

wand-bearer, wanderer, through widest lands,

witch, wend to us, with weal enchanting

all those who hail you this holy night.

Wodan, Wodan! wise one, rune-rister,

wand-bearer, wanderer through widest lands,

wizard, wend to us, with weal enchanting

all those who hail you this holy night.

Wish-frowe, wish-fro! winding together

your crafts and chants your keenest spells,

come to us here! we kindle the fires,

that need may be met this night most fair.

III. The Godwo/man or a skilled ritual helper lights the need-fire, from
which the main fires or candles are lit. As the lighting is done, the
Godwo/man speaks:

Need-fire burn out woe,

need-fire burn forth weal,

need-fire hallow us here!

This is taken up as a chant by all the folk as they walk between the fires,
taking special care to pass through the smoke if possible.

IV. The Godwoman or an idis fills the horn with ale. The woman holds the
horn above the fire while the Godwo/man hallows the ale with a hex-sign,
saying,

Hexe-Heithe, holy, hallow this draught,

with fiery might and main.

Witch, turn wyrd, as our wills shape,

within the hallowed horn

in froth of the awesome ale,

by symbel spoken here.

The Godwo/man makes a short toast, speaking of some matter in which s/he
wishes to see Wyrd turned, and drinks. Those who do not wish to speak aloud
may whisper their toasts over the horn.

V. The Godwo/man pours what is left of the ale into the blessing-bowl and
refills the horn. It is held above the fire; the Godwo/man hallows it with
a Hammer-sign, saying,

We give our gift to the gods ringed here,

we share the symbel-ale.

Gleeful this night, we gladly hail

Ases and alfs of awe,

Wans of wisdom and weal,

all folk who share our feast.

The horn is passed around and each person drinks. The Godwo/man pours what
is left into the blessing-bowl and refills the horn.

We hail the summer now here among us,

we greet the green-crowned tree!

Blessed, beloved, bending above us,

lusty are May-tree's leaves,

fair are the May-tree's flowers,

strong is the May-tree's stem.

S/he hallows the horn with the sign of the Sun-wheel and drinks, spilling a
couple of drops on the May-tree. Each of the folk comes forward to do the
same. The Godwo/man pours what is left into the blessing-bowl and lifts it,
saying,

We've wassailed all the wights about,

all blessings be blended here!

Holy drops splash to hallow the kin,

stemming from springs beneath stone,

falling from heaven-bergs fair,

blithe-running over Fold's breasts.

S/he sprinkles first the May-tree, then the harrow and fires, and lastly
each of the gathered folk, starting with him/herself.

VI. The Godwo/man says,

So give we ale to gods!

S/he pours the ale out over the May-tree and onto the earth. S/he says,

Fro Ing and Frowe, fruitfulness bring us,

merry this month of life!

Waluburg, Wodan, wise in your seeing,

show that our wyrds are set well,

shape all aright with your runes,

that nytt we joy from need.

Hail gods and goddesses all!

The Folk answer, "Hail gods and goddesses all!"

VII. The Godwo/man leads the folk in running between the fires and leaping
over them. Dancing and singing are all fitting at this time; when everyone
has leapt and danced, the feast may begin.

The Heathen Kinship Walpurgisnacht follows this ritual pattern:


The Great Blessing of Walburga



Materials: vessel of yeast and salt, mixed, and a vessel of water.


Hallowing:


1. The Hammer Signing

2. Adoration of Sunna


Gydhja: "The Hof is about to be raised on high...let all within this Hof and about this harrow be here of their own free will and in full Frith and Grith."


(Speaker places point of the knife in a vessel containing a mixture of salt and yeast, and says:)


Gydhja: "Salt and yeast are the seeds of life. Now are this salt and this yeast hallowed, and they shall make holy our lives, as we wield them in these works of craft given to Wotan and Freya."


(Water is now poured into the salt-yeast mixture, and the speaker stirs them together with the point of the knife, saying:)


Gydhja: "The holy salt drives out any ill in this water and the yeast quickens it...together they may be wielded in the worship of Wotan and Freya, throughout these workings."


(The solution of water, yeast, and salt is then poured in a ring around the harrow, as the speaker says:)


Gydhja: "Wotan and Freya, God and Goddess, father and mother of all might and main, here do we call upon you to come together with us in our workings. Ward us well and steer us within this ring and without it. So Shall It Be!"


All: "So Shall It Be!"


Reading: A reading or vocalics may be done at this time.

Ex. Othala - Sowilo - Berkano - Perthro - Raidho


Loading: (The speaker faces the north in the elk rune position and says:)


Godhi: "Upon this night we see the ending of the dark tide...our lord Galster-Father has gone through to bring us once more to the light of the lady Freya, the fair. Here we stand at midnight with the might of the Moon on the wane and that of Sunna waxing...in the twixt and twain shall we see the inner light of day!"


(The center fire pit is now ignited, while the speaker says:)


Godhi: "Now we light the beacon of Walburga to quicken the might of life and of our inner sight on its long road wending!"

WELCOME WOTAN! (all repeat)

WELCOME WALBURGA! (all repeat)


(The speaker still facing north says:)


Godhi: "Out of the horns of heaven all-eight we call upon you ever-living ones...come ye elder queens, ye ides from out of the airts...drive out the airts O drighten of dread to is to work thy wonders...fare now forth Walburga, wish-wife of a hundred wonders...ward our way down below and steer us on the nether roads to inner sight!"

THE IDES ARE AMONG US! (all repeat)

WOTAN IS WITH US! (all repeat)


Yielding: (The speaker turns to face the gathered folk and says:)


Godhi: "Now the loke and play along thy road begins O Mighty One within the ring of the staff!"


(The Gydhja now greets each member of the gathered folk)


(The gathered folk begin to dance around the central fire pit in a widdershins (counter-clockwise) direction. Those who wish may break through the ring in a west-to-east direction to jump over the fire pit. This is done to gain inner vision and to quicken life.

During the dance, the speaker performs the Blessing of Walburga. The speaker pours ale into the horn and says:)


Godhi: "To thee O Walburga...in memory of the gore of the goat! Take well with this our gift to thee!"


(When the folk have all settled down, the gydhja will make sure they are all seated)


Godhi: "We all have wended our way to Walburga...let us see her wonders!"


(All meditate on the fire and the horn is passed around once in total silence. The remainder of the ale is poured into the gift-hole.)


Closing: (The speaker goes to the harrow and says:)

Godhi: "Now the work has been wrought...let us now go to sumble to share our gifts with Walburga, with the Ides and with their queen, Freya!"



Notes on Walburga, Walpurgisnacht and May Day:

(Much taken from Winifred Hodge)


Walburga was the name of a Christian nun in the 8th century who ran a cloister called "Heidenheimer Kloster" or "Heathen-home Cloister!" During her life there was nothing she did to claim the "honor" of saint, but after her death, a miracle-working liquid or oil began to flow from the tombstone placed over her remains. This oil caused healing and was the reason she was canonized as a saint. Both the releasing of the oil and the day she was sainted was the first of May. This day was important to the folk, as it was one of our blessed feast days, the day in which "witches" cast out winter and called in the life-giving May! The connection remained in the minds of the folk, regardless of how the church tried to disassociate the oil and the saint to May Day, and so the association of the name Walburga with May Day has continued to this day.


Many today do not prefer to use the name of the nun (Walburga), but use Walpurga instead. Some prefer other variations such as Waluburg or Waelburga, which mean "burg of the slain" or "burial-mound of the slain", while others say to use "Wal" as slain is incorrect and the original name was Wald-burga, "wood protection". But let's keep in mind the tendency of Germanic goddesses to be called by quite different names in different localities, so if we did have the "real" name of the goddess or holiday, it would only be one form of it. Also, the customs at this time involve both spells or divination and pairing of women with men, so many associate this eve with Freya, the Goddess of seidh and Love or Lust, and consider it a time sacred to her, and very similar to the modern day, westernized Valentine's Day. Whichever goddess you choose to call on at this time, or whichever name you give this holy night, it is important that we honor both the dark and light sides of "witch's night" and May Day.


The symbols associated with St. Walburga are questionable whether they are Christian symbols at all. As shown in the oldest stonecarvings in her chapels, St. Walburga's symbols are a dog and a bundle of grain. Other items associated with her are a spindle, a triangle mirror, and/or 3 ears of corn. These are not typical Christian symbols, but are rather heathen ones. The dog has long been associated with the Norns, fertility goddesses such as Frau Harke, Frau Gode, Frau Frick (Frigga), Frau Berchte, Nehalennia. The dog has to do with fertility, health and good luck. As for the grain, there is a story of a farmer who once saw her running through the woods and described her as a white lady with long flowing hair, a crown upon her head; her shoes were fiery gold, and in her hand she carried a three-cornered mirror that showed all the future, and a spindle, as does Berchte. A troop of white riders (Wild Hunt) were trying to capture her. Another farmer saw her, too, and she begged him to hide her in a shock of grain. He did, and the next morning the farmer found grains of gold instead of rye in his grain stook. It seems the Wild Hunt runs at this time and embodies the powers of Winter, trying to prevent the Spring from becoming established. The grain is obviously a symbol of fertility. The mirror seems related to the Norns and/or the Well of Wyrd -- it certainly was not for practical purposes! The spindle has been associated with the Norns, Frigga, wise-women, idises, and other womanly wights associated with fate and fortune. None of these attributes, activities or symbols can be said to have anything to do with a Christian saint, but have everything to do with Heathen goddesses and holy women, who have been associated with fertility, food, love, life, death, and hidden knowledge. So, it seems the already existing attributes of a Heathen goddess celebrated at May-Eve were later grafted onto the saint Walburga.


There is a contract between the light-hearted springtime rites on the first of May, featuring flowers, dancing maidens, and children on the one hand, with the frightening activities of the witches during Walpurgisnacht, a night of bonfires, spells, witches and beasts, storm and hail. Walpurgisnacht was most often celebrated on a hill or "witch mountain" where a need fire or bonfire was lit, and folk danced around the fire. Grimm says, "…so wanton were they, yet so enticing, that the spectators at last were seized with the rage (Wod), and whirled along into the revelry." Mounds are an ideal place to conduct many kinds of witchcraft. They are often a refuge for the dead, and have long been thought of as the residence of Holda and her host. Holda, Berchta, Nehalennia and others rule fertility and new life, yet also guide and guard the dead in their care. It seems many, if not all of the Germanic goddesses have a dual nature -- both dark and light. Walburga is no exception.


This time of year is similar to Yule in that the veils between the worlds are thinned, so one may see glimpses of elves, landwights and other spirits. One may also see glimpses of their future, or future mate…it is an excellent time for divination and love-magic. This is a time for looking into that which is coming into being, for seeking deep roots of life-knowledge and life-mysteries, for spells of growth and change, inner-sight, conception and birth, spae-craft, and other forms of "women's magick."


As for May Day, bringing in the May was saying farewell to Winter and bringing the life renewing properties of Spring. This was often represented by a battle. Usually the battle was led by the May-King, chosen for his good looks and strength. He wore greenery as "armor," and his troops would fight against the horde of Winter. Then they would return and accompany the May-Queen and other ladies in a procession. Sometimes it was the May-Queen herself who fought the Hag of Winter, but either way Spring would defeat Winter, and a big celebration followed. Dancing, feasting, leaping, singing folk songs, and jumping over a broom made up the day's events. There was also some form of pairing couples, either by auction, Maypole, or contests. The women wore clothes that were usually more revealing and permissive than was customary. There is no mention of men's garb. But the men were encouraged to have their work done by this time, or a "Walburga-doll" made of straw would be placed on his land and would be an embarrassment. Folk were expected to bring and share food, so, it seems they were pot-luck affairs. The keynote of May Day is energy: the energy of youth and new life, sexuality and mating, of fighting and the chase, of dancing and leaping. Youth, beauty, sexuality, and strength were all celebrated! And these things are still very worthy of being celebrated today, and always!


Have a blessed Walpurgisnacht and May Day! May you gain inner-sight and work well on the one, and frolic and mate on the other! ; )


Some of the Walpurgisnacht/May Day Customs:


and commonly decorated with branches and flowers (English)

- painted with blue and white stripes or wound with ribbons, ringed with

garland, symbols of the work of the folk in the village are hung/nailed to it (Bavarian)

- with crosspiece, wreaths hanging from cross-arms, decorated with greenery and ribbons (Danish)

- still common for folk to decorate the living birch trees in their yards with coloured ribbons on May Day

(Maypole can be seen as a particular embodiment of the might of Fro Ing.)

Commentary:

Hallowing - This is the only blessing of the 8 blessings a year that is not protected by a Hammer-Rite.  Instead, since this blessing is dedicated to what might be termed "low" magick, we use only the water/yeast/salt mixture in keeping with a more "earthy" theme.   Also, it is not our intention during this blessing to keep OUT any wights, but rather we are opening ourselves somewhat with them during this night.   This is a night of darkness and mystery, and risks must be taken!    Of course, we still do the hammer signing at the beginning which is really all the protection anyone needs, IMHO.

point of knife - Placing the knife point in the vessel containing the salt/yeast is symbolic of placing a penis inside a vagina.  This night is traditionally associated with a lowering of taboos and an increased sexuality, and sex-magick.   The symbolism of the knife entering the vessel should bring all that out.

Wotan and Freyja - are called on because they are both associated with Magic and with Seidhr.   It is the "womanly" magick that we are celebrating this night, and so we call upon the appropriate gods.

The runes - Othala - Sowilo - Berkano - Perthro - Raidho    are used because:


Othala = ancestral "property"   and we are calling on the dises of our folk this night
Sowilo = inspiration of the gods and we are asking that Wotan and Freyja be present to assist in our workings
Berkano = Feminity and growth, and therefore the natural world  and we are attuning ourselves more with nature and women's magick on this night than we might normally.
Perthro = deals with Orlog, and we are asking to be shown visions of the future at one point in the rite.
Raidho = journeys (spiritual or physical) and we are definitely embarking on a spiritual journey this night.

"Upon this night..." -  This time of year is THE MOST solar/feminine time of the year!   It is after the spring equinox, so the might of Sunna is very strong, and yet still waxing, and it is before the summer solstice.  After the summer solstice, while the summer will still "overpower" the winter, the sun will be steadily losing ground each day and the summer will be slowly giving way to winter. 

The Ides are among us - An announcement that the Godhi senses the presence of the spirits of the kin.   As in any ritual, statements of this type should not be made until the Godhi (or speaker) actually DOES feel the presence of the beings mentioned.  IMHO, to just carry along an make the announcement at that point in the blessing, even if you feel nothing, only assures that the beings called will not come.  The invocation portion of the rite should be repeated, or changed and adlibbed as necessary until the beings invoked actually show, or the priest should give up on their being present and continue on without saying "they are with us" when they are not!    This takes quite a bit of ability, and is not easy.   The Godhi must be careful not to skip saying that they are present just because HE cannot sense them because he is distracted or something.  And he also must not continue to call on them to participate in the rite if they are already there.    It's a tricky thing to manage, and I think that only experience can help a godhi or gydhja be really prepared to do this.

Now the loke and play along thy road begins - This is the verbal signal for the gathered folk throw inhibitions out the door, and work any magick, start their vision-quest, dance naked around the fire, etc.   Everything should be done spontaneously with a minimum of forethought.

During the dance, the speaker performs the Blessing of Walburga - This is the "Great Rite"

All meditate on the fire - We stare into the fire and ask the Dises of the folk to show us the future.  Or something important for us to know.


Chapter XLVIII

Midsummer

Midsummer is the celebration of the summer solstice. It was called "St.
John's Night" by the christians. As the shortest night of the year, it was
(and is) particularly a time of rejoicing for the Northern peoples. Being a
solstice feast, its date is slightly variable, ranging from the twentieth
to the twenty-third; however, it is usually Midsummer's Eve on which the
celebrations are held, and it is this night which is the night of the
greatest magic.

Traditional Midsummer celebrations have much in common with those for
Ostara and May Day. In Sweden, a "maypole", tree, or post is also put up at
Midsummer's. Olaus Magnus, writing in 1500, mentions that folk went to the
midsummer-tree to pray that the field might be given growing-strength and
laid a cross of leaves on the field so that it would grow with god's help
without being harmed by lightning, thunder, or hail. In Heathen days, such
a rite might have been done while calling on the help of Þórr to ward the
fields and hallow them with his Hammer so that they could grow.

In Skåne, the Midsummer-wreath was a large wreath made of all the flowers
and plants that grew in the area, tied to hang from a pole that two men or
boys carried on their shoulders. Beneath the pole was a paper image of a
hen on her eggs. The two "wreath-boys" were accompanied by six to twelve
"wreath-girls" in their procession around the village. In Jutland and
Skåne, it was also common for girls and boys to give each other wreaths to
wear this night as a sign of their affection (Olrik and Ellekilde, Nordens
Gudeverden, pp. 678-79).

Fires are very important to this festival as well: Grimm comments that "in
the north of Germany (the fires) take place at Easter, in the south at
Midsummer...it all turns upon whether the people are Saxon or Frank...Some
countries, however, seem to do homage to both, as Denmark and Carinthia"
(Teutonic Mythology, p. 615). The chief difference he notices overall is
that the Easter fires are usually set in mountains and hills - wild places
- while the Midsummer fire was usually made in streets and marketplaces (p.
626). In Denmark, the "St. John's Fire" is supposed to be burnt on a howe
or other high place; hay or rye was an important part of this fire, and in
some places a hay-dolly called the "Child" was cast on the flames
(Troelsen, Nordisk Bondereligion, pp. 70-71). The Norwegians also burned a
manlike figure of straw, called "kallen" (the carle, the old man) or
"kællingen" (the carline, the old woman) (Olrik and Ellekilde, Nordens
Gudeverden, p. 671). Sun-wheel fires, like those of Yule, are also burned
on Midsummer's; Grimm tells us that the town of Konz made such a wheel
which was rolled flaming down into the Moselle, and that if it was alight
when it went into the river, that was a sign of a good wine-harvest and the
cause of great rejoicing (Teutonic Mythology, p. 620). The Scandinavian
Midsummer-fires were very often burned on howes or high places; Olrik and
Ellekilde cite in particular a seventeenth-century reference to "Ildhøj"
("fire-howe") on which these flames were kindled to drive out the witches,
now that harvest was nearing (Nordens Gudeverden, p. 670). Grimm also
mentions the common practice of casting herbs into the Midsummer's fire,
and of leaping over it, as is done on Waluburg's Night.

In modern Ásatrú, as spoken of in the chapter on Worship, some groups have
taken to burning models of Viking ships for this festival. This may be
somewhat influenced by Balder's burning ship-funeral, or it may simply be a
fiery hallowing of one of the greatest signs of the Northern culture.

In Denmark, before the Sun goes down on Midsummer's, it was traditional to
"adorn" or "birch" the flax fields by putting up greenery (especially
poplar). The length of time that the leaves stayed green was a sign of the
life of the flax; the poplar was also supposed to ward off those witches
who wasted the flax crop (Troelsen, Nordisk Bondereligion, p. 68). The
Norwegians, Swedes, and Swedish Finns hung leaves and flowers of all sorts,
especially rowan, all over the house to protect it on this night. Cows were
adorned with wreaths put about their horns; afterwards the wreaths were
hung in the barn until the next year (Olrik and Ellekilde, Nordens
Gudeverden, pp. 676-77). In modern times, this was remembered as a ward
against witchcraft, but could well have been a blessing of the beasts as
well; there are several descriptions in the sagas of cows receiving special
worship, and "Helgakviða Hjörvarðssonar" mentions the gold horns of the
hof-cattle.

All herbs are at their mightiest when picked on Midsummer's Eve. This was
the night on which "St. John's Wort" was plucked, and could be used for
various sorts of foretelling. It is said that if you sit under an Elder
tree at midnight on Midsummer's, you will be able to see the riding of the
"King of Fairyland" and all his host (Grieves, A Modern Herbal) - that is,
the alfs, perhaps with Fro Ing at the head of the train. Shakespeare's A
Midsummer Night's Dream was also (loosely) based on English folklore of a
similar sort.

Midsummer Night is the mightiest night in the year for drawing water from
hallowed streams or wells; the dew that falls this night is supposed to be
used for healing eyes. Those who go fasting and silent to a
northward-running stream on this night will be able to see their future
spouses in the water at sunrise (Olrik and Ellekilde, p. 683).

In modern Ásatrú, Midsummer's is especially associated with the Þing, due
to the fact that the Icelandic Alþing was held in the summertime. It is
also thought of as a feast at which Tiw should be hailed; Midsummer's is
the bright half of the axis-pole of the year, and the Midsummer-tree might
well be seen as the embodiment of the Irminsul.

Midsummer is clearly a feast of the Sun in her strength; many folk today
also hail Balder in his brightness at this time.

Midsummer Rite

This feast should be done outside if possible, somewhere where a bonfire
may be kindled. You will need a fire of nine kinds of wood (including
juniper, if possible), horn, blessing-bowl, mead (by choice) or other
drink, sprinkling-twig, a roughly human-shaped figure of straw (the Carle),
a Midsummer-pole or -tree set up beside the fire, and sprigs of mugwort (if
possible) or other plant for everyone. The rite should begin a little
before sunset. Lots are drawn beforehand among the women to see who will
dance with the Carle. If you would rather, a ship can be used instead of
the Carle; an alternate form of the rite is given here.

I. Godwo/man does Hammer-Rite.

II. Godwo/man stands in elhaz stance (feet together, hands and head raised)
and calls:

Hail thee, Sunna! shining in might,

driving thy horses on high.

Early-Wake, All-Swift, awesome, forth gallop

drawing the shield-maid stark

around her holy ring.

Hail thee, Tiw! at Thing-tide's height,

by Irminsul, ur-old tree.

One-Hand, Wolf-Binder, worthy oath-payer,

hold thy high seat here!

Hail thee, Fosite! at fount of law,

standing by flowing spring.

Bridge-builder, wise one from bright Glitnir's heights,

reach out with holy rede,

awe us with axe's stroke.

Hail to thee, Balder! bright in remembrance,

shining in sig and frith.

At height of hope on hallowed Midsummer's,

we bless thee, hero bold,

we hail thee in halls hidden,

strength to the seed of life!

Hail thee, Heimdallr! from Heaven-Berg gazing,

white-shining watchman of gods,

high-minded horn-god, at height of all lightening,

brighten the Rainbow Bridge here,

stream down to us God-Home's strength.

Thonar, ward us through summer's height,

against all harm of hail,

Frija, bless us while flax is growing,

Sif's hair shines in the fields,

Gerðr's breasts decked brightly,

Fulla gives freely to all.

Fro Ing and Frowe fires shall kindle,

growing great through the land,

where alfs are riding all are singing,

green shall our fields grow!

III. The Godwo/man kindles the fire, saying,

Now dance in ring around the flames,

Dance to might of Midsummer high!

Dance in weal woe dance out,

Dance to gladness of gods all here!

IV. The Folk all dance about the fire and the Midsummer-tree. If they have
made wreaths, the men and women may crown each other with them at this
time. The woman who drew the marked lot must dance with the Carle. As the
folk dance, they cast their twigs into the fire, saying, "All woe burn away
with these leaves!" A large Midsummer-wreath may be borne about the fire
and the tree at this time.

V. When the dance begins to slow, the Godwo/man should stop and fill the
horn with mead. S/he should hold it up, saying,

Eagle's flood glittering falls down here,

seed of Sig-Father's beak.

Wodan, awake us with Wod-Stirrer mead!

Thy eye gaze on us this eve,

light with thy lore this night.

All of the Ases'-Garth, awesome, shares symbel,

the Wans, all wise, have their share.

Here we drink to the holy gods,

with might that roars through mead.

VI. Each person then makes a toast to one or more of the god/esses. The
Godwo/man pours what is left into the bowl and signs it with Sun-Wheel,
Hammer, and Walknot. S/he sprinkles the sundry items as named with the
mead, saying, "I hallow the harrow this holy night. Midsummer-tree, I
hallow thee! I bless thee, Carle (or "longship"), given as gift; I bless
the fire that burns. Here I bless all the airts - " s/he sprinkles in the
eight directions, "those above and those below. I bless all the folk
gathered here." S/he sprinkles each of the folk in turn. "I give this gift
to you, gods and goddesses all!" S/he pours the blessing over the Carle (or
ship) and the tree. If there is a lot of mead, and the Carle is a small
figure, care should be taken that he is not so well-soaked that he will not
burn.

VII a. The woman who danced with the Carle lifts him up, saying, "I bring
my bridegroom, my Midsummer-man, holy and blessed for the gods. Let him be
given, that green grow the earth, that well may wax all our works!"

b. Two men come forth and lift up the ship. One of them, or both together
if they have practiced and can do it well in unison, say, "We bring the
ship to the shore; we turn its prow towards wide ways. Forth sail it,
flaming, a gift to the gods - that green shall grow the earth, that well
may wax our works!"

VIII a. The Godwo/man sets a hand on the Carle, speaking or whispering a
bidding or thanks to the god/esses. Each of the folk comes up to do so in
turn, till all are touching the Carle. The Godwo/man says, "So we all give
Midsummer-man! We heave him up for the high ones..." The folk all swing the
Carle up and down once..."We heave him up for the holy wights..." They
swing him again..."For gods and goddesses all!" They swing him up and toss
him into the fire. As he burns, all cheer and hail him.

b. The Godwo/man sets a hand on the ship, speaking or whispering a bidding
or thanks to the god/esses. Each of the folk comes up to do so in turn,
till all are touching the ship. At this time, folk may have written their
requests or thanks in runes on strips of paper, with which they may load
the ship. Other small flammable gifts, such as stalks of grain, flowers,
amber beads, and so forth, may also be put into the ship at this time. The
Godwo/man says, "So shall the ship be launched! One heave for the high
ones..." The folk all swing the ship up and down once... "One heave for the
holy wights..." They swing it again..."For gods and goddesses all! Let the
ship fare forth!" They swing it up and toss it into the flames. As it
burns, all cheer and hail it.

IX. When the tallest flames have died down, the Godwo/man leads the folk in
leaping over the fire. The feasting and drinking begins. Folk may toss
pieces of their food and spill drops of their drink into the Midsummer
flames as small offerings, or lay them before the foot of the
Midsummer-tree. Food and wreaths may also be hung from the branches of
nearby trees as gifts to the alfs.

X. The Midsummer fires should burn all night. If this is not possible, when
they are put out - which, as usual, must be done thoroughly so that there
are no live embers left behind - the Godwo/man should say, "Though stilled
in the Middle-Garth, burn yet in our souls - Midsummer fire holy, Midsummer
fire high. Light us through summer, in love and luck - Midsummer fire holy,
Midsummer fire high. Kindle our coals as we quench your light - Midsummer
fire holy, Midsummer fire high!"

The Heathen Kinship Midsummer Rite follows this pattern:



The Greatest Blessing of Midsummer



The harrow is set to the north in a standard fashion with the banner flying in the background. The folk are gathered into quadrants leaving two paths running from east to west and north to south. Alternatively, the Odin’s Eye can be drawn upon the ground. When all are gathered, and ready to begin, the banners are raised and the hallowing begins...


Hallowing: 1. Hammer Signing

2. Adoration to Sunna

3. Hammer Rite


Speaker: "This stead is hallowed for our work here today. As the god Heimdallr wards the Bifrost Bridge, so is this stead warded against all unholy wights and ways. The Hof is now raised on high! Let all true and good folk now gathered be here of their own free will in full Frith and Grith!"


Lay: The binding of Fenris is to be performed.


Rede:


Speaker: "On this noon-tide of the midsummer we gather together as in the days of Yore in order to greet Sunna at her highest and brightest stead. Here we stand in honor of all the Aesir and the Vanir and to all those who by their deeds serve them. We call upon them to once more make ripe their might and main in our lives. We call upon you all, O'Ancient Ones who dwell in darkness and light as a whole within Wotan's law."


Call:


Speaker: "Wotan, we are awed by thy craft,

Tyr, we stay true to the forever,

Balder, thy brightness and boldness guides us,

Frigga, thy fruit and motherly wisdom keeps us all,

Idunna, thine apples renew our hearts and lives,

Thunar, thy thunder wards our stead,

Freya, we get freedom from thy frolic,

Frey, from thee we get a harvest of Frith!"


All: (In response to each god called)


"We give thee welcome!"


Speaker: " Again we call to you in all your names, be among us here this noon-tide as the year reaches its height and the brightness of Sunna shines at her highest stead:

"Hail all the Gods...Hail all the Goddesses...

Hail all the Holy ones,

Who dwell together within and without,

In the noon-tide of this day we ring in the dawn

Of a new era!"


All: "Hail all the gods, hail all the goddesses, hail all the holy ones who dwell together!"


Loading: (holding the horn aloft and facing north)


Speaker: "We give you the gifts of our works woven and blended with the might and main of the mead. It binds us...Gods and Folk together...it helps in our striving towards the shining plain where the wights and the worlds dwell in wholeness. Sunna has risen to the pinnacle of power while the Eagle gazes from the topmost branch of the world tree...May his sight find us not wanting is wisdom."


Drinking: (in standard fashion)


Blessing: (the speaker walks 3 times around the harrow while intoning:)


Speaker: "The blessing of all the Gods and Goddesses of our folk be upon us!"


(Individual blessings shall be at will)


Meditation: (all gathered begin to chant the following:)


Othala - Dagaz - Berkano - Sowilo - Fehu - Thurisaz

( 3 times each and then once each)

Raidho

( 3 times, after all others)


Giving: "To Wotan, Tyr, Balder, Frigga, Idunna, Thunar, Freya, Frey and to all the Aesir and Vanir...Our hearts and gifts of mead and craft we give to thee for thy blessings of good harvest and Frith!"


Leaving: "...Thus our work again is wrought. It renews our hearts to do deeds worthy and true…to strive towards our goals with mighty moods, wise words and trust in our own powers and abilities...ever holding our oaths to ourselves and to our Folk…(Onward to Sumble and) ONWARD TO ULTIMATE VICTORY!!!”


All: "HAIL TO VICTORY...HAIL TO VICTORY...HAIL TO VICTORY!!!"




Chapter XLIX

Loaf-Fest (Freyfaxi)

This feast falls on the eve of August 1, at the beginning of harvest-time.
The actual Heathen name of the festival is not certain. In England and
Scotland, the "Loaf-Mass" (corrupted to "Lammas") was held when folk
brought the first fruits of their harvest to the church as an offering - a
custom which might well, in turn, have sprung from Heathenism. Similar
customs were followed in Germany: the beginning of harvest was always both
an offering and a bidding for a good harvest to follow, safe from hail and
other dangers. In Donnersberg, a woman bound three stalks of grain together
beneath the ears in every field, saying, "That belongs to the three
maidens"; where she could not go herself, she tied three stalks of grain
together with white silk and sent a child under seven years old to lay them
on the field (Jahn, Ulrich, Die Deutsche Opfergebräuche bei Ackerbau und
Viehzucht, pp. 158-59). Many of the "First Sheaf" customs that Jahn cites,
such as the making of a corn dolly or the setting out of the sheaf "for the
mice" are similar to the "Last Sheaf" customs discussed further under
Winternights. The First Sheaf could be left lying on the field, thrown into
running water, burned in fire, or hung up in the house or over the door,
"because it, as a holy offering, possessed the strength to keep all
ill-luck from house and court". Eggs were also given with it, as was bread
(Jahn, Deutsche Opfergebräuche, pp. 160 - 63).

In Iceland, this was the time of fairs which were particularly marked by
the sport of horse-fighting. From this sport we get the name "Freyfaxi"
(Freyr's-Mane), as that was the name of one of the most famous Icelandic
horses, the stallion which Hrafnkell Freysgoði dedicated to his god. The
horse-fighting may well have been seen as a ritual act in itself; a
horse-fighting scene appears on the stone from the Häggeby church (Uppland,
Sweden - ca. 400-600 C.E.) in which we see both the horses and the men
goading them on. The horses' heads are decorated with the crescent-horn
head-dresses which also appear on many bracteate-horses from this period. A
number of other picture stones from this period show duelling horses,
usually flanking a great wheel with spiralling arms which may show forth
the Sun. Nýlen and Lamm suggest that "The duel was probably of religious
significance. The animals most suitable for sacrifice may have been
selected in this way and the battle between the lord of the winter and the
summer, between death and life in nature, which was current in Sweden up to
the seventeenth century may reflect ancient fertility rites" (Stones,
Ships, and Symbols, p. 26). The horse, as spoken of earlier, is a beast of
both fruitfulness and death, and thus is very fitting to harvest-time
rites. The bright horse is still the ruler at the time of this feast - but
this will not last too much longer. The strength with which the horses
fought could perhaps also have been seen as showing how the harvest should
turn out, or even as blessing the fields with the might they spent in their
battling.

Grønbech mentions that this same belief was shown by the Norwegian
horse-contests held in Sætersdale in August. "The stallions were led out
two by two, excited by the presence of a mare, and after the fights, there
followed wild rides on bare-backed horses. And it was known that 'when the
horses bite well it means a good harvest'. In this double play between the
interpretation of the action as a test of manhood and an assurance of luck,
there is very likely a glimmering of old sacrifical ideas" (II, p. 190).

In Practical Magic in the Northern Tradition, Nigel Pennick mentions that
Loaf-Feast was also a time when wells and other holy waters were especially
worshipped and offerings made to them, though his sources for this are
difficult to track. He also suggests that the English folk song "John
Barleycorn" is a fitting ritual song or ritual drama for this feast; and
here we may think of Fro Ing's bondsman Byggvir, "Barley". In Scotland and
parts of England, it is still traditional to make corn dollies at this
time. These can easily be done as harvest-images for various god/esses (see
"Crafts"), set on the Hearth harrow from now until Winternights.

In the elder days, this time would not only have been the beginning of the
grain harvest, but also the end of the season of battling. Those warriors
who lived through a summer of raiding and trading would be coming home with
the harvest of gold and glory they had won, ready to set their weapons
aside and get to work bringing in the winter's food. The other side of the
Häggeby stone shows a ship rowing in, and this ship might perhaps be seen
as the sig-ship faring homeward from battle.

We may also note that Óláfr inn digri was slain just before this festival,
at the battle of Stiklastaðir on July 29, 1030 - by three men named Þórir
Hound, Þórsteinn Shipbuilder, and a man named Kálf (though Snorri tells us
that there was some disagreement as to whether the last was Kálf Árnason or
Kálf Árfinsson). KveldúlfR Gundarsson suggests that "If one were looking
for a broader pattern in Óláfr's death, one might, perhaps, read the Hound
as a lesser form of Óðinn's wolf, the Calf as Freyr's ox, and know Þórr in
the name 'Þórr-Stone'. Certainly it is fitting to think of the three great
gods gathering together to strike down one of the worst traitors who ever
slaughtered his own folk and turned against the holy ways of the North..."
("Outlaws in the Hof!", p. 12) Thinking on this, it might also be thought
fitting to see Loaf-Fest as a time to celebrate the gods' harvest of sig
over the foes of our folk, and the beginning harvest-time of the newly
reborn Troth.

In modern Ásatrú, this feast is especially tied to the tale of Loki's
cropping of Sif's hair, for which he pays not only by bringing her hair of
real gold, but arranging the making of several of the great treasures of
the gods (Þórr's Hammer, Óðinn's spear and ring, Freyr's boar and ship).
This tale is well-fitted to be a ritual drama at this feast. At this time,
also, many true folk call on Sif as a field-goddess and Thonar as the
warder of the fields, whose lightning ripens the grain and whose thunder
drives out all the wights that would scathe the harvest.

Loaf-Feast Rite:

If possible, this rite should be held outdoors by a body of water, with a
bonfire also burning and trees nearby to hang things on. You will need
horn, ale, blessing-bowl, sprinkling-twig (possibly a few stalks of grain
bound together), a small hand-baked bread or biscuit and a stalk of grain
for everyone, and something with which folk can hang pieces of their
offerings in the trees (such as little paper ships with strings attached to
the masts). The fire should be kindled with one of the brands from the
year's earlier holy fires; it should already be going well by the time the
rite starts.

I. Godwo/man does the Hammer-rite.

II. Godwo/man stands in full elhaz stance (feet spread, hands upraised) and
calls,

The Sun turns down from Summer's height,

the Earth is giving her gifts to all.

Fro Ing is faring frithful through acres,

Stands Byggvir high-waxed, staunch by the god.

The Sun turns down from Summer's height,

The ships are faring from sea to home-bays

Sig-laden, fair-winded, Farmatýr guides them,

Glad bear they loads, the glow of Rhine-fire.

The Sun turns down from Summer's height,

The Hammer flashes above fields gold.

Thonar hallows his holy bride,

Mjöllnir hallows high-growing grain.

The grain has grown for gifts threefold,

barley and bread and beer,

The quern shall whirl and quicken the yeast,

the seeds for sowing be saved.

Loaf-Giver, Loaf-Kneader, full-laden, we greet you,

with barley and bread and beer,

Hrosshárgrani, we hail thee forth,

to quicken the ale with awe,

to seed it with frothing foam.

III. The Godwo/man fills the horn with ale and signs it with the Sun-Wheel,
saying,

Fro Ing and Frowe, Nerthus, Njörðr! Wans, look wynn-full on our harvest -
Wans and all holy wights who help the growing grain.

S/he drinks and passes it about to all the folk. When it has made the
round, s/he pours what is left into the blessing bowl and fills the horn
again, signing it with the Hammer and saying,

Thonar and Sif, hallow this harvest-time - Bringing our works to being,
blessing the winnings we reap, driving all ill away!

S/he drinks and passes it about to all the folk. When it has made the
round, s/he pours what is left into the blessing bowl and fills the horn
again, signing it with the Walknot and saying,

Farmatýr, we hail thee for summer sig - battles blessed, now coming to end.
Draupnir's owner, holy ring-giver, strew forth the seed of the hawk's
land's fire!

S/he drinks and passes the horn about to all the folk. When it has made the
round, s/he pours what is left into the blessing bowl.

IV. The Godwo/man speaks,

"Now we bring forth the signs of what we have wrought - the gifts we give
to the gods! One-third to alfs of the air; one third to water-wights deep;
one-third fares through the fire."

S/he breaks his/her bread in three parts and sticks a stalk of grain into
each - hanging one on the tree, casting one into the water, the third into
the flames. Each of the folk does likewise. If the rite is being held
indoors, a basin of water (which will later be taken out and poured into
the nearest body of water) may be used instead of a stream; the pieces for
burning may be burned in a fireplace or passed through a candle-flame until
they begin to char; and the pieces for hanging may be hung out the window.
The Godwo/man lifts the bowl and speaks:

Hail to the gifts hail the givers,

hail gods and goddesses all!

Hail to Byggvir whose blood we share,

barley-god, all blessing-full.

S/he sprinkles harrow, the airts, the water, the fire, the gifts which the
folk have hung, and each of the folk in turn, finally pouring the last of
the ale into the water, onto the tree, and into the fire (if the fire is
very small, a few symbolic drops may be sprinkled on it here). S/he says,

Now fare all to feast in frith - win strength for harvest work.





Chapter L

Winter-Nights (Alf-Blessing, Idis-Blessing, Frey-Blessing)

The Winter-Nights feast marks the end of the harvest and turning of the year from summer to winter. At this time, those cattle and swine that could not be kept through the winter were slaughtered as part of the harvest-blessing. This was a time for celebration: the harvest-work was over for the year, the cattle brought in from the fields to the barn. Now the awareness of folk turned inward, for now there was time during the long Northern nights to do all the things that might be done within the hall -carving and fixing, spinning the year's crop of flax, knotting nets and shaping shafts for the year to come - and deep thinking largely took the place of the doing of deeds.

The date of Winter-Nights is uncertain. In Icelandic tradition, it usually fell between the twelfth and fifteenth of October, or at any rate sometime in the middle of October. Bede mentions the name "Winterfyllith", "Winter Full-Moon", which has led many true folk today to set the festival at the first full moon after the autumnal equinox (or the nearest weekend). Icelandic sagas describe people playing ball-games on the frozen lakes at this time, something which can hardly be done in a lot of places where Ásatrú is practiced now: it might not be wholly unfitting for folk in warmer places to delay the feast until later in the month or even the beginning of November, when there is some chance that the festival might actually match the changing of the seasons.

As spoken of under "Alfs" and "Idises", Winter-Nights is the feast at which we give worship to our dead forebears, from which two of the Old Norse names for the festival, "álfablót" and "dísablót", stemmed. It can be thought of as the Germanic equivalent to the Celtic Samhain, the end of summer when the dead were remembered and food put out for them. In this respect, Winter-Nights is something like Yule; however, the emphasis at Winter-Nights is largely on the harvest (to which the alfs and idises have lent their aid). As the harvest celebration, Winternights is greeted with much joy; the meeting of the living and the dead, and the remembrance of our fore-gone kin is likewise not a sorrowful, but a joyful thing.

However, the turning from summer to winter, from light to darkness, was keenly felt by our Northern forebears. After Winternights, the Wild Hunt begins its night-riding through the shorn fields; the trolls and ghosts come closer to the dwellings of humans. So, as well as being a feast of joy, there is a certain solemnity to Winternights: it marks the beginning of that time at which the darkness belongs most to the wild wights, which peaks at Yule and ends at Ostara. During this season, Wodan is more to be seen in his elder shape as death-god and leader of the Hunt, and Skaði rules as the etin-born maid of winter. Those who wish to accept the reading of Wulþur and Fro Ing or Njörðr as the alternating Winter/Summer Kings will also hail Wulþur, taking his high seat at this time.

Winter-Nights was also called "Freysblót" - the blessing of Fro Ing: Gísla saga mentions that "Þórgrímr was used to having a harvest-feast at Winter-Nights and to greet winter and to make blessing to Freyr" (ch. 15). As the god who is chiefly associated with the alfs, particularly the mound-alfs, and who also has much to do with both death and fruitfulness, he is one of the main rulers of this feast - though, as spoken of in "Alfs" and discussed further below, Wodan was also sacrificed to at this time.

From the name "Dísablót", and the fact that women seem to have played a special role at this feast (Starkaðr's grandmother Álfhildr making the blessing to the idises and the farm-woman telling Sigvatr to go away because her household was making a blessing to the alfs and feared Óðinn's wrath - see "Alfs"), we may also see that the womanly beings of death and fruitfulness were especially called on in the course of this feast. It was at this time that the dark dísir of Þiðrandi's family took him (see "Idises"). "Ynglingatal" tells of the death of King Aðils, who rode his horse about the idis-hall at the blessing; the horse, by the workings of a "witch-wight", stumbled and Aðils dashed his brains out on the stone floor. Turville-Petre suggests that the "witch-wight" or idis to whom the hall belonged was a single goddess, perhaps Freyja, and that "This goddess, like the dead dísir of the Atlamál, had called the king to join her. If she is not herself dead, she is the goddess of death" (Myth and Religion, p. 226).

In Egils saga Skalla-Grímssonar, the "dísablót" is spoken of as a feast where "there was the best banquet and much drink within the hall" (ch. 44). Although Sigvatr's description of the multiple rejections he got while faring about in the autumn seems to hint that this feast was usually a family affair, Gísla saga mentions that Þórgrímr invited many great men to his Winter-Nights banquet, and Egils saga has the event as a feast to which a chieftain could invite king and queen, as Bárðr invited Eiríkr Blood-Axe and Queen Gunnhildr; a number of folk are also invited to the dísablót in Víga-Glúms saga (ch. 5). In Víga-Glúms saga, however, the guests were all friends and relatives of the householder, while in Egils saga, the uninvited guests were put outside in another building, and given only skyr, so it seems that our forebears may at least have been very particular about who they invited to their Winter-Nights feasting. In A Book of Troth, Edred Thorsson suggests that, when the folk are sprinkled with the ale from the blessing bowl, "in a very pointed manner, the speaker should directly sprinkle first the members of the kindred, then all known good folk and true. If any gathered are known to be uncommitted to the Troth, sprinkling them should be avoided" (p. 169).

One of the most widespread harvest-customs of the Germanic folk is the leaving of the Last Sheaf. Rites for this vary greatly. In some areas, the grain-ghost or grain-wight is thought to dwell in the sheaf, and must be chased and either driven out or carefully captured, bound, and brought home. In Jutland, when the Last Sheaf is bound, folk say, "We have captured the hare"; in Fyn and Zealand, they talk about "catching the fox" or "driving the fox out" (Troelsen, Nordisk Bondereligion, p. 72); de Vries cites a number of like examples ("Contributions to the Study of Othin, Especially in his Relation to Agricultural Practices in Modern Popular Lore"), such as the Dutch custom of making a hare-effigy out of grass and flowers at the end of harvesting and having the boy who bears it act as the hare and presently suffer capture (p. 15).

Elsewhere, "(the corn-spirit) is regarded as a supernatural being in human shape and it is identified with a real person at the moment of the cutting of the last sheaf. This person may be the labourer who wields the last stroke of the sickle, or the woman who binds the last sheaf, a stranger accidentally passing by, or even the landlord himself" (de Vries, "Contributions to the Study of Othin", p. 17). De Vries cites the Jutlandic practices of making the girl who has bound the last sheaf dance with a hay figure in the shape of a man (made from the last cartload of grain), who is called her husband, or of wedding the girl to "the Old One". This, he suggests, was originally a sacrifice in which the girl was first killed as "the Old One's" bride; then later, perhaps, "tabooed by virtue of her spiritual relation to the corn-demon and consequently treated as a widow" (p. 18). Troelsen mentions that the person who has bound the Last Sheaf is the butt of unmerciful amusement, and that a maiden who has bound it has to bear it home hanging about her neck and dance with it at the harvest festivities (Nordisk Bondereligion, p. 73). In Dragons of the Rhine, Diana Paxson presents a fictional, but traditionally based and spiritually inspired, rendition of harvest-rites in which Sigfrid is tied to the Last Sheaf and threatened by the scythes of the peasants; Hagano (who is one-eyed and appears in a dark cloak and broad-brimmed hat) then ransoms him with the promise of ale for the harvesters.

Especially in Sweden and Denmark, the Last Sheaf is supposed to be left out for Oden's horse. The North German Last Sheaf-charm, recorded in 1593 by Nicolaus Gryse as a song sung by the harvesters dancing around the Last Sheaf ("Wodan, give your horse now fodder. This year thistle and thorn -the next year better grain"), was mentioned in "Yule", and the relationship between the Wild Hunt and the fruitfulness of the fields spoken of there. In Germany, the Last Sheaf is also given to a demon called Wode, Wold, or Waul; de Vries originally disputed the connection between Wodan, the Wild Hunt, and the Last Sheaf rites ("Contributions to the Study of Othin", 1931), particularly doubting that Wode/Waudl was the same wight as Wodan, but later came to modify his opinion considerably ("Wodan und die Wilde Jagd", 1968?). Later folk tradition has the Last Sheaf left "for the birds"; it is also mentioned that "In Gellerup...a little bit had to stand unharvested for the birds and the beasts and the nissen. Here the 'Unsjæger' (Óðinn's-Hunter) comes when the corn is harvested" (Troelsen, Nordisk Bondereligion, p. 71). More corrupt (and likely older) forms of the name appear in Germany: in Mecklenburg, the Last Sheaf is food for the horse of "de Waur"; in Gross-Trebow, it is left to stand "for the Wolf, as fodder for his horse". The oldest references to this custom stem from a South German Statsregister (ca. 1350-90), which mentions the leaving of the "Wutfuter" or "Wod's fodder" (Jahn, Deutsche Opfergebräuche, p. 164). In Bavaria, the Last Sheaf is left for the "Waudlhunde" (Little Wod-Dog?), together with beer, milk, and bread; this wight was supposed to come and eat them on the third night. The Waudlhunde may well be seen as one with the black hounds or wolves that follow the Wild Hunt, or perhaps Wodan himself in a wolflike shape. Throughout North Germany, the Last Sheaf itself is called "the Wolf", which Jahn sees as possibly a corruption of the name "Wodan"; it is sometimes made into the shape of a wolf, adorned with blossoms and green twigs where it stands in the fields (pp. 178-79).

In Germany, it was common to bind the Last Sheaf into a "Waul-staff" with bright ribbons and decorate it with flowers; the Sheaf itself could be called "Wode", and may also have been seen at times as the embodiment of the god. The harvesters then danced about the "Wode" in a ring, calling on him with charms such as the Last Sheaf-charm quoted above; Jahn suggests that, especially in earlier days, each person got a bit of the Sheaf to hang over their door as a holy thing (Deutsche Opfergebräuche, p. 170). In Niederporing, the Last Sheaf was made into a large corn-dolly by the men, while the women gathered flowers to decorate him with; he was given the name Åswald (Ase-Ruler - someone who really wanted to could possibly also suggest that this name might have been derived from, or subsituted for an earlier *Ansuz-Woðanaz), and they all thanked him for a good harvest without accident. In other parts of Lower Bavaria, the harvesters made a knot (without using the left hand at all) around the three standing stalks of grain, saying "That is for the Åswald" (Deutsche Opfergebräuche, p. 175).

A few apples were also left hanging from the fruit harvest for "der Wod" in the area of Raddenfort and Käterhagen; in Pommerania, the last apple or pear was left for the "weather-maiden". Jahn mentions that the bones and various bits of the sacrificial beasts were, like the remains of all Germanic sacrifices, seen as mighty talismans, and often put out in the fields for harvest-luck (p. 230).

Beside the Old Man, the Old Woman (that is, the Earth?) was also worshipped at this time: the Last Sheaf was called the Old Woman in Denmark (de Vries, "Contributions to the Study of Othin", p. 17). In Northumberland, the Last Sheaf was called the "harvest Queen" (Whistler, The English Festivals, p. 188). As well as Wode himself, we have "Fru Gode" or "fru Gauen", to whom the Last Sheaf was often left in Northern Germany; Grimm chooses to read the name as a survival of the archaic manly title "Fro" instead of the contemporary womanly "Frau" or "fru", interpreting this deity as "Fro Wode/Wodan" rather than "Frau Wode/Wodan" (Teutonic Mythology, pp. 252-53). This is a matter of choice; although since we have womanly leaders of the Wild Hunt as well as sundry manly leaders, and since the Earth is the chief giver of harvest, it seems not unlikely that she (one of Wodan's many brides!) could well have been the receiver of the Last Sheaf. Jahn quotes a German charm: "Wir gebens der Alten, / Sie soll es behalten. Sie sei uns im nächsten Jahr / So gut, wie sie es diesmal war" - We give it to the Old One, / She shall hold it. / Be she to us in the next year / As good, as she was in this (p. 183). Those who wish may change the Last Sheaf/Wodan-gift in this rite to a gift to the Old Woman.

A custom which is just taking hold among true folk in America is the carving of "Winternights pumpkins". These have the same general goal as Halloween pumpkins - that is, to scare away ill ghosts and wights, while offering much enjoyment to the children of the kindred. The "Winternights pumpkins" can also be seen as gifts to the god/esses after the manner of the Last Sheaf. This practice stems from the Celtic carving of turnip-lamps for Samhain adapted to the (better-suited) American gourd, and so purists may reject it as being not properly Germanic - but our folk were never shy about borrowing, especially from the Celts. Those with both Germanic and Celtic heritage (that is, most Americans and British), may like to carve such pumpkins at Winternights and leave them up until November 1.

Winternights Rite

It is better if this ritual can be done outside, though this is by no means needful. You will need a horn with enough ale to fill it four times, blessing-bowl, sprinkling-twig, a sheaf of grain or maize (some bind it with a threefold braid of red, white, and black strands), and wreaths of straw, grain, nuts, berries, and/or flowers to deck it with, two apples for everyone, sax, and a stallion-shaped bread. A woman (or more than one if it is a large group) must be chosen beforehand as idis to go about with the basket of apples. Half of the apples need to be pierced with ribbons or strings so that they can be hung up beside the Last Sheaf.

I. Godwo/man does the Hammer Rite.

II. Godwo/man stands still in the middle of the folk-ring, speaking very softly,

Now the harvest is gathered; now the seeds sleep in the storehouse, the ale brews in the cauldrons. Now the nights are growing long; the cattle are come in from the hill, the folk from the shorn fields. Soon the living folk shall leave all the acres - soon Wodan shall lead the Wild Hunt across the dry grass, and Thonar hunt thurse-maidens over the fields of snow. But now the living and the dead shall meet, gathered here in a single ring: now the ghosts shall come to their feast, and all kin shall gladly eat the apples and drink the ale together.

III. Godwo/man suddenly throws back his/her head, casting hands up and spreading feet to stand in a full elhaz-stance as s/he cries out very loudly,

Alfs, we call you! Old mound-dwellers,

fathers of all folk here!

Light Alfs and Dark Alfs, depth-dwelling Swart Alfs,

We hail you, holy kin!

Idises, we call you! Eldest of women,

mothers of mighty ones here!

Bright and dark idises blessings all holding,

we hail you, holy kin!

Ghosts, we call you! gather in ring,

kin of all kindred-folk here!

Shadowed about us shining through worlds,

we hail you, holy kin!

Fro Ing, we call you, and Frowe beloved,

Alf-Home's ruler, Wans' Idis.

Faring from Wan-Home forth on your boars shining,

garlanded with bright grain,

hulled in howe-dark cloaks.

Wodan, we call you, and wise Frija, bride,

Idises' leader, awe-god.

Faring from Ase-Garth forth on pale steeds,

at head of the holy hosts,

leading the wights over lands.

IV. A chosen idis goes about with the basket of apples, giving one pierced and one unpierced fruit to each of the folk. The Godwo/man speaks,

Idises and alfs, elder ones all,

with harvest we hail you.

Apples we offer, awe-full kin-ghosts,

to bear the worlds between,

born once more in your bairns.

Each of the folk eats the unpierced apple slowly, thinking on their fore-gone kin and the great ghosts they wish to remember. They will hold the other apple until the end of the rite.

V. The idis fills the horn with ale and the Godwo/man raises it, signing it with the Hammer. S/he speaks,

Fro Ing and Frowe, Frija and Wodan,

I hallow to you this horn.

Alf-leaders blessed idises high,

come to feast with your kin.

We drink your minne-draught,

we share the symbel with you.

The idis bears the horn about and all drink in turn. When the horn has finished the round, she pours what ale is left into the bowl and fills it again. The Godwo/man speaks,

Alfs all mighty about us ringed,

I hallow to you this horn.

From howes rising, from holy steads all,

come to feast with your kin.

We drink your minne-draught,

we share the symbel with you.

The idis bears the horn about, u.s.w. The Godwo/man speaks,

Idises awesome about us ringed,

I hallow to you this horn.

With blessing-baskets bright with fruit,

come to feast with your kin.

We drink your minne-draught,

we share the symbel with you.

The idis bears the horn about, u.s.w.

VI. The Godwo/man lifts the stallion-bread and makes the sign of the walknot over it, saying,

Holy the horse that hares between worlds,

signed for the gods be steed.

sworn to be slain at stead of the blessing,

given to gods with grith,

bear biddings on your back,

wending to worlds unseen.

S/he puts her/his hand upon the stallion and speaks a blessing of thanks and/or a request to whichever wights seem fitting. Each of the folk does so in turn.

VII. The Godwo/man says,

I give thee to those gathered here!

S/he cuts the horse's "throat", letting its head fall into the blessing bowl, and pauses a moment so that all can feel the might flowing from it into the ale. The Godwo/man then bears the stallion about and each person tears off a piece to eat.

If the rite-leader is a Godwoman, she will sprinkle the harrow, airts, above and below, and all the folk with the ale in the bowl; if the rite-leader is a Godman, this should be done by the idis.When all the folk have been sprinkled, the bowl should be poured out over the harrow or onto the earth.

VIII. The Godwo/man lifts up the Last Sheaf and cries,

Hail to Wodan! Wild Hunter, Wod-Rider!

All the folk answer, Wod! Wod! Wod!

Godwo/man: Hail to Wodan! Wolf-god, wind-god!

All the folk answer, Wod! Wod! Wod!

Godwo/man: Hail to Wodan! Wanderer, Old One!

All the folk answer, Wod! Wod! Wod!

The Godwo/man says, "Now ring the Wod-Sheaf with your blessings - thanks for the harvest come, hope for that which shall be! And hail you Wodan, those of you who dare to draw the gaze of his eye. Hail the Drighten of Death, the Wild Hunt's leader - the bringer of life to the fields, the rister of hidden runes, the brewer of awe-might's ale."

IX. The Godwo/man leans the Sheaf against the harrow and fills the horn with ale. All the folk set their garlands on the Sheaf; those who dare also sip from the horn and pour a few drops onto the Sheaf, speaking blessings and/or biddings to Wodan as they do this. When all have come forth, the folk link hands as the Godwo/man pours the remaining ale into the blessing-bowl.

The folk dance in a ring about the Sheaf, chanting thrice, "Wodan, give your horse now fodder. This year thistle and thorn - the next year better grain!" The Godwo/man stands in the middle of the ring, with the blessing bowl upraised and one hand on the Sheaf.

At the end of the third chanting, all shout, "Wod!" and leap as high in the air as they can, as the Godwo/man pours the ale over the Sheaf.

X. The Godwo/man gives a stalk of grain from the Sheaf to everyone who wishes to take it, then leads the folk to the place where the Sheaf and the apples shall be hung. This is done in silence, each thinking on the god/esses, wights, and fore-gone kin who shall have their share of this feast.

The Heathen Kinship Winter Nights Blessing follows this pattern:

The Great Blessing of Winter Nights


Materials:

Basket of Apples; a Drum; Ale


Harrow is arranged in standard fashion and all celebrants will be standing and facing the North. Celebrants shall chant Berkano, Othala, Raidho with rising energy directed to the North, until at a pre-arranged signal all celebrants shall shout, "Hail the Holy Dises."


1. The Hammer Signing

2. Adoration - sunset

3. The Hammer Rite

Hallowing: "This stead is hallowed for our work here tonight. As the god Heimdall wards the Bifrost Bridge, so is this stead warded against all unholy wights and ways. The Hof is now raised on high! Let all true and good folk now gathered be here of their own free will in full Frith and Grith!"


Reading:

Keepers of the holy clan Kinswomen in Freya's world

Weal bring us, on this holy night.

Women all around, unseen, Awake, ye wights to ward.

Out of the darkness We call you forth

From your hidden, hallowed homes

Ever haunting, calling to our blood

Mothers of our holy might Weavers of the ancient Wyrd

Ladies light or dark as night

Standing round the harrow stone

Bring forth again The age-old might


Rede:

Hail ye Holy Ides Dises of the Harrow,

Hold ye whole the kindred:

Mighty mothers of old Turn our minds toward you!

Wend ye nigh these winter nights!”


Call: "Tonight we call forth the dises of the Folk. Ye have been known by many names, ye great mothers of our folk...O, ye spae-ides, ye wondrous womanly wights all-weird, we call you:


ARDIS OF THE HARVEST,

All: "We give thee welcome”

ASDIS OF THE AESIR,

All: "We give thee welcome"

FREYDIS OF THE LORD AND LADY,

All: "We give thee welcome"

JODIS OF THE HORSE,

All: "We give thee welcome"

SPADIS OF PROPHECY,

All: "We give thee welcome"

VALDIS OF THE SLAIN,

All: "We give thee welcome"

VIGDIS OF BATTLE!"

All: "We give thee welcome"


Loading: "If any here wish to bring forth signs of their harvest, bring an offering for the gods or dises, or call your ancestors by name to join us tonight, you may approach the harrow."

Speaker faces North and pours ale into the drinking horn. The speaker then takes the horn and proceeds to hold it aloft and says:


"We give this ale, blended with awe to you, O, mighty mothers all-old!”

With blessing-basket bright with fruit, come to feast with your kin."

"We drink your minne-draught, we share the symbel with you!”


Drinking: This is performed in a standard fashion, being handed to each person individually. It is appropriate to hail the dises or an ancestor before drinking. The speaker then says,


"As we step through the winter's door, let us each take an apple and remember how death and life are woven together."


The basket of apples is taken around to each person. Each person takes one apple, then the speaker says:

“ Idunna brings her apples to the godly kind to bring them life and youth everlasting; from the eating of hallowed apples comes the birth of heroes. Our ancestors also placed apples in the barrows with the ships that bore their dead from this world to the worlds unseen. The flower must fall so that the fruit can swell; the fruit must rot so the seed, which bears the soul, may grow. Now we share these apples with our kin, living and dead. Though we fall and rise again, our clans are unbroken and the river of our blood runs mighty from our roots. Let us eat of the apples in silence, as we remember our fore-gone kin, with which we now share this gift.”


After a moment for all to partake of their apple and to reflect, the remains of the apples are gathered, and then the rite continues…


Blessing: Speaker makes the sign of the hammer ( ) and of the sun-wheel ( ) over the blessing bowl and begins to intone:


"This ale is hallowed to the dises of our clan and of our Folk!"

"This fruit is hallowed to the dises of our clan and of our Folk!"

These gifts are hallowed to the dises of our clan and of our Folk!”


The speaker then circles the harrow three times while sprinkling the holy liquid. There should be a strong, yet soft beat upon the drums as this part of the rite is performed while the speaker intones:


"To all the dises and to all the awesome ides!"


Speaker begins blessing of the members of the kindred first, then the known good and true folk in the traditional manner. Avoid sprinkling any who are not true to the Troth.


Giving: Speaker pours contents of blessing bowl to the Northwest side of the Harrow, with the words:


Holy mothers of men, Holy mothers of women,

Wyrd daughters of Woden

To you we give this ale!”


Leaving: “From the Winter Nights to the Twelfth Night of Yule, the walls between the worlds of the dises all-dead, and of the folk all-living, grow ever thinner – may the wisdom of these wyrd women, all loving, become known to us here tonight! Let us now go forth and make merry, for the year is yet young!”


"Thus our work again is wrought. It renews our hearts to do deeds worthy and true...to strive towards our goals with mighty moods, wise words and trust in our own powers and abilities...ever holding our oaths to ourselves and to our folk...(Onward to Sumble and) ONWARD TO ULTIMATE VICTORY!!!!"


All: "HAIL TO VICTORY...HAIL TO VICTORY...HAIL TO VICTORY!!!"


Notes on Winter Nights: Food is put out for the dead. The remembrance of our fore-gone kin is not sorrowful, but a joyful thing, though there is a solemn aspect to this time of year. The awareness of the Folk is turned inward. It was the time to do things that needed to be done – fix tools, carve, spin, repairs, slaughter animals for winter meat, etc.

Last Sheaf – some believe the last sheaf was left for Odin’s horse, along with beer, milk and bread. Others feel it was left for the “Old Man” or the Corn Spirit. In Germany, a “Waul-staff” was made with the sheaf by adding bright ribbons and flowers. The harvesters danced around it in a ring, calling on “Wode” with charms. Each would take a bit of the sheaf and hang it over the door as a holy thing.

Others saved the last sheaf for the “Old Woman” (Earth?), and would dance around it and chant “We give it to the Old One/She shall hold it/Be she to us in the next year/As good as she was in this.” Since Earth is seen as a wife of Woden, and is the chief giver of the harvest, it is fitting to offer the last sheaf to her.

Apples were left hanging from fruit trees for “der Wod,” for “the birds,” or the last apple for the “weather maiden” or Freya.

Carving pumpkins is something the new folk are beginning to do on Winter Nights, to scare ill ghosts and wights away. This stems from the Celts making turnip-lamps for Samhain, but the Norse never minded borrowing from anyone, especially the Celts!


Chapter LI

Some Crafts of the North

Our forebears were great crafters, whose works in wood, metal, and stone
still stand as some of the finest artwork of the world. Not only do we have
their example to follow, but, if we want to do the things they did in
something like the way in which we did them, we often have to make our own
materials for so doing. Good mead is not sold in every winestore, nor
drinking horns in every mall; and traditional woodcarving or handwoven
fabric, when they can be found, cost more than most of us can even think
about affording. The crafts spoken of here - mead-making, horn-making,
wood-carving, and spinning - are only a few among those practiced by our
forebears; they also worked with metal, leather, embroidery, stone, horn,
amber, and everything else that was available to them. They made their own
clothes, their own ships, their own beer, and their own weapons. Some of
these skills are easily mastered; some require years of training and a
great deal of equipment. In whatever way it is practiced, crafting is a
deeply rooted part of the Northern tradition, and doing it strengthens our
souls and brings us closer to the thoughts of our ancestors.

Simple Mead, or How to make The Drink of the Gods with a Minimum of Pain
(by Will von Dauster, from Mountain Thunder #3)

There is no question that mead, or honey wine, was a favourite drink of our
Germanic forebears. For those of us who have tasted real mead, it remains a
favourite drink today. Notice, I said real mead. Much of what is sold in
the United States (or Great Britain, Germany, and Scandinavia! - KHG) as
mead is mead only under the loosest of definitions. A great deal of it is
cheap grape wine laced with honey and other sugars. It is, in my humble
opinion, truly awful. Those few purveyors of true mead seem enamored of the
idea that, since mead is made with honey, it must always be sweet. In some
cases, drinking a glass of Mrs. Butterworth's pancake syrup would be
preferable. Who could like this stuff? Our ancestors must have been really
desperate for a drink.

Well, maybe not. Perhaps you've had the pleasure (usually) of drinking a
friend's homemade mead. One taste of homemade and most of us need no
further convincing. The best way to get real mead is to make it yourself.
No problem. You ask your mead-making friend for advice, and you are treated
to a two-hour lecture on the niceties of specific gravity, various yeast
strains, discussions of acid, and enough other details to convince you that
the only way to make mead is to get your Masters degree in molecular
biology with a minor in chemistry.

What is wrong with this picture? While our ancestors were certainly not
stupid, chances are very few Vikings had the aforementioned sheepskin
hanging on the bulkheads of their ships. Yet they certainly made and
enjoyed mead. Hum.

Your instincts would be right. Making really good mead is not as difficult
as brain surgery, requires no magical incantations (although one wouldn't
hurt), and will not bankrupt Donald Trump (whoops! too late). Mead making,
in this author's experience, is actually easier, albeit slower, than making
beer. Speaking of slower, there is an order of monks in Ireland which is
said to make mead, then set it aside for eight years or so before drinking
it. While this no doubt produces a fine product, the good news is that mead
is usually quite tasty much sooner. The other good news is that, unlike
beer, properly made and bottled mead only improves with age. At least as
much age as you or I are likely to give it.

In this article we'll go over the basics of mead-making: The simple way. My
only qualifications for writing this is that I have made quite a few
batches of mead, all of which turned out, in my opinion and the opinion of
my enthusiastic friends (including the current Warder of the Lore! - KHG),
excellent.

Hardware

So let's get started scrounging. As with most hobbies, mead-making takes an
initial investment. Uh oh, here comes the bad news. Right. Here is a
one-time shopping list, in no particular order.

Find yourself a five-gallon glass water bottle, the kind water companies
used to deliver water in. Where can you find such bottles in this age of
plastic? Some water companies still use glass, so there is one source. Your
local brewer's supply shop will carry them, usually for around $10. Put the
word out; you might be surprised how many people have one or two of these
lying around. Get as many as you need, but get at least one. Two are
better. These are called carboys, by the knowledgeable mead-maker, or by
those who want to appear smarter than you.

While at the brewer's shop, purchase a couple of bubble-type water traps.
These traps look like something straight out of Dr. Frankenstein's
laboratory, forming an "s" pattern with a plastic tube, with maybe six
bulges along the length of the tube. These are used to keep the mead
isolated from the outside air, and contaminants, while it is aging. Do not
buy the beer-style floating water traps - these can reverse flow and
contaminate your mead.

Buy as many plastic corks with holes in them as you need, the size of the
opening of your carboys. The holes will hold the base of the water traps
you just bought.

Under the category of plumbing supplies, purchase a length of clear,
flexible plastic hose, and two lengths of plastic tubing long enough to
reach from the neck to the bottom of the carboy. Then, if your shop has it,
buy one bottle filler valve and one stand-off end cap. These should not run
more than a dollar or two in the US. You will find them invaluable when it
comes time to bottle your mead (in eight years? Patience!). The bottle
filler valve is the little orange plastic dohickey (a scientific term) with
an even smaller plunger at the end. The mead flows into the bottles only
when the end is pushed down onto the bottom of the bottle. The stand-off
end cap keeps your plastic tube out of the dead yeast...but I get ahead of
myself.

Another invaluable plumbing item is the faucet-mounted bottle-washer. This
represents an investment of around six dollars. The gadget (another
scientific term) screws on the end of your sink faucet, and sprays (hot)
water up into any bottle or carboy at a high rate when one is pushed over
it, making bottle-cleaning a relative snap.

Now it's time to pick up some cleaning supplies. Get a packet of sodium
bisulfite - this is used for sterilization (the bottle's - relax). One
packet lasts a very long time. There are other substances popular for
sterilizing equipment, but the bisulfite has always worked well for me, and
is relatively easy to rinse off (it comes either in a powder form or as
"Campden tablets" - KHG). Get a bottle brush or two, for obvious reasons.

The last hardware item you should get before leaving the brewers supply
shop is a good brewing thermometer. This is important, because yeast
critters are touchy about baths that are too hot.

Somewhere conjure up a five-gallon stainless-steel pot. Revere Ware makes a
good one, and is readily available. Porcelain pots are also OK. Some people
recommend a seven-and-a-half gallon pot, but this is too heavy when full
for easy manipulation, and you've already bought five-gallon carboys
anyway.

While at the brewer's shop, you will pick up a few other things, but this
is your initial capital outlay as they say in the wonderful world of
corporate America. Everything else falls under the heading of supplies or
froofroo. The latter can include such things as a specific gravity (SG)
tester (Science!). Nice to have, but you don't really need it (heresy - the
mead police knock at my chamber door). The SG tester helps you determine
how much alcohol is in your mead. Don't worry, it will be the right amount.

Makin's

From now on, all you have to get when you are ready to make mead are the
main ingredients, and bottles. As for bottles, swing-tops (Grolsch beer
comes in these) are best and most forgiving. You are going to need about
forty when it comes time to bottle the mead, so get started.

As for the main ingredients, basic mead consists of water, honey,
acidifier, and yeast. That's it. Let's go over each of these in order.

Water: Just turn on the tap, right? Wrong. Chlorine-contaminated water was
never a part of the mix, and still shouldn't be. The best is to find a
mountain spring and get your water there. A good well is next best. As a
last resort, bottled spring (never distilled) water is OK. You need about
four gallons of it, five gives you a bit of leeway.

Honey: Can't do it without honey. The little yeasty-beasties munch on the
honey to do their magic. I recommend about twelve pounds of honey per
batch, which usually works out to about one gallon. Raw unfiltered honey is
best in my experience. Your local health or organic food market should have
bulk honey. Here that runs about $1 per pound. If you live near the
country, honey is also commonly sold along the roadside. The kind of honey
does make a difference. Clover honey is light, thin, and makes a light and
fresh mead. Wild flower honey is heavier and a bit sweeter. If you are
fortunate enough to be near a honey supplier, ask there and ye shall
receive knowledge.

Yeast: Here is where I am supposed to give you a bunch of Latin names. My
ancestors not only couldn't speak Latin, but spent much of their time
trying to hold back the expansion of the Latin church and its minions. So,
in plain English, there are three basic kinds of yeast used in mead-making.
These are white wine yeast, red wine yeast, and champagne yeast. Pick up
two packets of which ever one you decide to used. Each kind produces a
different end product, so pay attention.

White wine yeast is the least energetic. These guys like to party and have
a good time. They generally do a pretty poor job of eating all that nice
honey. The net result is that this kind of yeast produces a lower-alcohol,
very sweet mead. This is usually quite tasty, but some people find it too
sweet. I find it works well with spiced meads.

Red wine yeast is the all-around workhorse of the bunch. It works a bit
harder than the white wine varieties, eating more of that yummy honey. This
means there is less of it left over, but a bit more alcohol. Typical
results with red wine yeast are moderate sweetness, tending to be a bit
drier than with white wine yeasts. This yeast seems to work best with
fruit-flavoured meads.

Champagne yeast is the heavy metal of yeast. These buggers really go to
town, working overtime to consume every last bit of honey. The result is a
very dry mead, with a good flavour but almost no sweetness. With a few
tricks, you can easily make sparkling mead with champagne yeast (gee, who
would have thought...). Personally, I like this yeast with the sweeter
honeys, such as wild flower, and no extra flavourings. Be forewarned: this
stuff can produce very high levels of alcohol in your mead, amounts in the
17% range are not unheard of. Careful!

Acidifier: Unflavoured mead made without an acidifier is flat-tasting,
almost bland. Always use an acidifier in unflavoured mead. The simplest
method is to pick up a quantity of acid-mix powder from your brewer's
supply shop. Generally three-to-five rounded tablespoons are used for a
batch, so use this as a guide. You can use lemon juice or other food acids,
but I recommend against it to start. Get brave after you've made a batch or
two.

Making the Mead

OK. You've scrounged all the supplies and hardware you need. Let's do it.
Begin with rule number one, one of probably the only two rules this author
will ever cite. This rule, by the way, is one of the things that
differentiates our mead-making from that of our forebears:

Everything you use in the making of mead, that comes in contact with it,
must be clean. Period.

There are no exceptions. The problem with filth is that it contains
bacteria and foreign yeasts. These can contaminate the mead and ruin it.
Before you panic, I have never lost a batch to contamination. Just pay
attention. Clean up your work area, probably your kitchen, thoroughly
before starting. You are now ready for rule number two:

Never use soap in any form to clean the containers which come into contact
with the mead.

Why not? Soap almost always leaves a residue which gives yeasty-beasties
heartburn. If they survive anyway, most soap adds very little to the taste
of mead. To sterilize the containers, hose, tubes, etc., use a solution of
about a tablespoon of the sodium bisulfite dissolved in water. Dip your
hands in this solution, then shake them dry. Rinse everything with tap
water when you are finished. If you had to use soap, such as an SOS pad, to
clean something, rinse the soapy item thoroughly, then scour it with a
clean nylon mesh pad dipped in the sulfite solution. Then rinse it with tap
water.

By the way, many mead recipes call for sulfite to be added to the mead at
various stages. I have never found this necessary. Though generally
harmless in small doses, many people are allergic to sulfites. Don't add it
to your mead. Best to just be clean and careful, and you should have no
problem using just the traditional ingredients.

OK, you've cleaned everything. Pour four gallons of water into the
five-gallon pot. Bring this to a boil (gas burners work well). While it is
coming to a boil, soak the jug of honey in warm tap water. This makes it
easier to pour when the time comes.

That time comes when the water boils. Pour the honey in and stir with a
clean spoon (not wood!). Add in about three rounded tablespoons of your
acid mix. Gently drop the clean thermometer in, too. It will normally read
around 180o F or so after the honey has been added. I like to bring the
temperature up to around 190o F before removing the pot from the stove.

This is also not trivial. It weighs around 40-45 pounds, and is full of
steaming, hot, sticky liquid. If you aren't built like Arnie, find someone
who is or be very careful Place the pot in the sink and fill cold water
around it to aid cooling. No, do not add ice cubes to the mead!

When the temperature gets to around 100o F, it is time to hydrate your
yeast. Follow the instructions on the packet. If there aren't any, take
about 2 cups of lukewarm (boiled) water and sprinkle the yeast on top of
the water. Use a clean fork to gently stir the yeast into the water, then
let this sit for about 15 minutes. Pour it into the bottom of your nice
clean carboy.

When the mead has cooled to around 80-90o F or so, siphon it from the pot
into the carboy. Once the carboy is filled, place your water trap into the
hole in the cork, fill the trap halfway with water, then cork the carboy
and place it in a place where the temperature stays between 60-80o F.

Within two days the mead turns cloudy. This is good. Pretty soon you will
notice the water trap "burping" every few seconds. This is exactly what we
want. It means the yeast is active, "alive", and doing its thing. One half
of that thing is producing alcohol, the other half is producing carbon
dioxide, which is what we see burping through the trap. Now put the carboy
full of mead where your friends, or your pet, or you, will not bump into it
and knock the water trap off.

This burping continues for months. How long depends on the mix, the yeast,
the temperature, etc. Count on between two and six months. This process is
called fermentation. After a while, the percentage of alcohol in the mead
gets too high and the sugar too low for the particular yeast to survive,
and the bubbles quit. Don't touch it! Let the cloudiness settle out of your
mead slowly. Do not worry about the "scud" that builds up at the bottom of
the carboy, you'll leave it behind when you bottle.

Party Time

Some time after the mead has quit burping, the sediment will begin to
settle out of the liquid. Ideally, you would wait a year or two for the
mead to become crystal clear, but you won't (how do I know? Get real...).
Once it has significantly cleared out (usually a couple of months after the
burping stops), it is time to bottle the mead. Place the carboy carefully
on a counter or other higher place, preferably a day or two before
bottling.

Hopefully you've been diligent and emptied forty swing-top bottles.
Hopefully you have also not drank from the bottle itself, but have used a
glass, horn, or stein. Finally, if you were really diligent, you soaked the
labels off, then rinsed the bottles thoroughly and placed the top loosely
back on. If you have done all these things, bottling is easy. Otherwise,
get to work. Once the labels have been removed, use your handy
faucet-mounted bottle washer to spray the inside of the bottles with hot
water. Place the bottles in a sink full of warm water and one tablespoon of
sodium bisulfite. After a bottle has soaked for a few minutes, rinse it
again, drain the water out, set the top loosely on it, and put it aside.

Some people always use new rubber washers on the tops. These can be had at
the local brewer's supply shop, and is probably a good idea the first time
you use a set of bottles. It is not necessary if the rubber of the old
washer is in decent shape, and thoroughly cleaned.

Carefully remove the water tap so as not to spill water into the mead.
Assemble your siphon with one of the plastic tubes in each end of the hose.
Sterilize it by running first bisulphite solution, then tap water through
it. Place the stand-off end cap on one end. Insert this end into the mead
and draw enough mead to fill the siphon, watching out for backwash. Let the
siphon flow into a cup for a second, then pinch it off and attach the
bottle-filler valve to that end and relax. You don't have to taste your
mead now.

Yeah, right.

When you're finished drinking the cupful, place an open bottle on the
floor. Insert the tube and push the valve against the bottle's bottom and
watch carefully as it fills. Be sure to hold the tube steady, so as to not
knock the bottle over if the valve slips against the bottom. When the mead
reaches the base of the neck, stop, seal it, and begin again with the next
bottle. A friend is helpful in this process. I have never had trouble
finding friends when it comes time to bottle mead. Humm.

When you get to the bottom of the carboy, it is best not to bottle this
mead, as it might have a bit of turbulence. I leave it to your imagination
as to what to do with it. Rinse the carboy thoroughly when you are
finished, clean it if you aren't a tad tipsy, else wait until sober for
safety's sake.

Labeling your bottled mead is a good idea. It isn't hard to get some
self-sticking peel-off labels, or you may wish to print your own, or have
someone with a printer and computer make some for you. Be sure to include
the date.

While the mead tastes good right out of the carboy, you will be surprised
how quickly it improves with age. Even six months add fullness, six years
is better. Best to always have a batch bubbling, this makes it easier to
leave the aging mead alone...

Remember, making mead or any alcoholic beverage for sale in the United
States without a license, and without paying high taxes on the product, is
very much illegal. Share your mead, and with a little luck, your friends
will share theirs with you.

Chill sweet meads before serving. Personally, I think all mead tastes
better cold, but to each his or her own. Mead is particularly appropriate
to toast our gods at blots and sumbels, and never unwelcome at new or full
moons. Any feast is improved with the addition of some good homemade mead.
As my family likes to say, Prost!

Non-Drinker's Mead

For feasts, it is important that habitual non-drinkers, designated drivers,
children, and other folk who for whatever reason should not or do not want
to drink alcohol that evening have something available which seems festive
and also fits in with the ways of our forebears.

Near-beers and low-alcohol lagers such as Clausthaler work for ale, and are
in fact historical, being quite close to the "small beer" drunk on an
everyday basis in the elder days. Ritually, these, as grain-drinks, can be
used where-ever ale would usually be called for.

Non-alcoholic cider can be used in place of the more traditional alcoholic
sort (which is often difficult to come by in the States in any case). For a
good festive winter drink, apple juice can be carefully heated (but do not
boil!) in a saucepan with cinnamon, cloves, and nutmeg (about 1/2 tsp.
cinnamon, 1/4 tsp cloves, and 1/4 tsp. nutmeg per 4 cups of apple juice).
Serve with a cinnamon stick in the cup. Never, ever pour any hot drink into
a horn which is coated with wax inside, as the wax may melt.

For mead, honey and water alone are not especially pleasant-tasting, and
you will almost certainly want something more. A nice "near-mead" can be
made by mixing water and apple juice (by choice, the organic/unfiltered
sort) in equal proportions and adding honey at the general rate of 1-2
tablespoons (depending on how sweet you want it; children tend to like it
sweeter, adults drier) per 2 cups of mixture. This, blending both honey and
apples, is quite suitable for ritual use and can be used whenever mead or
cider is called for.

Milk is very fitting for Northern religion, especially in rites worshipping
the goddesses, though we would not recommend offering it to Wodan.

Making the Drinking Horn

by Kveldúlf Hagan Gundarsson, from Mountain Thunder 8, Spring Equinox 1993

"Nu hæves Hornet, Hærfadr Odins horn...Hellige Hovild, Aketors Hammertegn,
hellige Hovild viet det har." (Now lift high the horn, Host-Father Óðinn's
horn...Holy hof-fires, Ake-Thórr's Hammer-Sign, holy hof-fires hallowed it
here) - Bjørnsterne Bjørnson/Edvard Grieg. From the operatic fragment Olav
Trygvason.

The drinking horn is the treasure which distinguishes Germanic heathens
from everyone else: the lifting of the holy horn is the heart of our rites,
the symbel which we share with the god/esses of our folk. It is with a
draught from the horn that the wayfarer is welcomed into the hall; a like
draught, borne by the walkurjas, greets and heals the heroes who come
blood-drenched to Wodan's shield-roofed hall. The passing of the horn when
our holy kin are toasted and oaths are sworn binds the folk into a single
ring of friendship and frith, and the drink that flows from its silvered
rim brings the High One's wod to our minds.

Our forebears chose the horn of the aurochs above all others for their
drinking: the fierce wild bull of Europe's ur-woods was the measure of the
strength and bravery of those who could claim its horns, and the luck of
the drinking horn must have come in some part from the might of the beast
that first bore it. Not only natural horns were thought holy, however: two
of Denmark's greatest treasures (stolen and melted for the gold in the last
century, sadly) were the Gallehus drinking horns - several pounds of solid
gold, decorated with religious symbols and images of people and beasts
which may have represented scenes from cultic drama. One of these was also
adorned with a runic line of alliterative verse: "I, Hlewagast Holte's son

the horn fashioned." Glass drinking horns were also made along the Rhine
for the Germanic market; despite their fragility, some of these found their
way up north and were buried with great chieftains such as the 3rd century
(C.E.) warrior of Östervarv, Östergötland whose beautifully adorned glass
horn is kept in Sweden's National Museum today.

Although the drinking horn is holy to all the god/esses, it is sometimes
especially associated with Wodan, the giver of the mead of poetry who
"lives from wine alone" (Grímnismál 19) and whose name can mean either "the
furious one", "the inspired one", or "the drunken one". The three
interlocked drinking-horns which, surrounded by the ring of the Elder
Futhark, are used as the symbol of the Rune-Gild today, appear on the
Lillbjärs stone (Gotland, ca. 8th-9th century C.E.) next to the walknot and
the image of a walkurja bearing drink to a slain hero. The same triple-horn
symbol also appears next to the swastika on the Danish Snøldelev stone
which memorializes Gunvald, son of Roald, thulr on the Sal-mounds. The
title thulr has received much discussion; but it is generally accepted that
it has some relationship to inspired speech and to the cult of Wodan.

Even after the North had been christianized, the need of the Scandinavian
folk for their ritual horns was still strong, as shown in Orkneyinga saga
LXVI: the men had been drinking from cups all evening, but "when they had
been drinking for a time, then they went to Nones (evening Mass). But when
the men came in, then minne (the memorial toasts, given to
gods/heroes/ancestors originally but usually to saints after the
conversion) was spoken and drunken from horns".

The horn also appears as a magical tool in Guðrúnarqviða önnor (Second Lay
of Guðrún), in which the heroine says of the enchanted draught her mother
Grímhildr gives her: "Every kind of stave was on the horn, / risted and
reddened - I could not make them out". Not only is the drink itself brewed
of magical/holy things, but the runes graven on it work their might through
the draught.

Runic formulae on a horn may either be geared towards a specific end, or
generally chosen to enhance whatever is done to the draught in the horn.
Some examples are given here:

A couple's horn: LOVE BE GIVEN LEEK-FAIR SPRINGING / EVER TRUE, ASH AND ELM

For inspiration: AAA AAA (two ansuz-trefots) SKALD-WOD SEETHES AND SINGS IN
HORN / ALLFATHER'S ALU AWE-FULL

For health and happiness: BORNE WITH BEER BRIGHT LAUKAZ SHINES / FRITH-JOY,
FRIEND-JOY, FREE-JOY

For drinking the memory-draughts, or in general to link the drinker with
the god/esses and his/her forebears: KINFOLK CALLED, KIND, FROM OLD HALLS /
MINNE KIN MINDS WITH MEAD

For might: STARK THONAR STANDS STRENGTH BE WITH DRINK / EARTH'S UR-MIGHT,
ALU'S DRAUGHT

For symbel: (bind-rune of Laguz, Perthro, Uruz repeated 3 times): WYRD'S
STAVE-WRIT WORDS WELL, TREE, AND HORN / OATHS WREAK ALL HOLY AWE

For rites in general: HAIL THE HOLY FOLK HIGH ASE AND WAN / BLESSING-DRINK
BE SHARED, BLITHE

The futhark can also be graven around a horn, or lines from Eddic poetry
(Sigrdrífumál is particularly rich in good verses for a horn). A horn used
for rites may have the names of the god/esses graven about it instead of or
in addition to any other inscriptions.

I. Choosing your Horn

Nearly all drinking horns come from cattle, usually Longhorns. Horns come
in two states, raw (with a thick barklike encrustation) and sanded (with
the encrustation peeled off). Both can be bought from Tandy Leather, price
range approx. $10-20 (guesstimate based on last prices available to me).
The only advantage to buying a raw horn is that, if you scrape it down
yourself, you can probably keep more of the natural thickness. Otherwise
cleaning the outside is a waste of time.

Longhorn sizes range from small enough for a cup of wine to large enough to
hold two sixpacks or more. Tandy's small horns are roughly 1-beer horns,
their large horns are usually 2 1/2 - 3-beer horns. A larger horn can
always be cut down if desired. For practical reasons, the smaller horns are
best for individual drinking, especially if you prefer wine or mead. For
rituals where a full horn is passed around a large circle, however, a big
horn is preferred; likewise, if you follow the Norse custom of sharing a
horn between pairs of friends at feasting, a larger horn is better - as
shown in the passage from Orkneyinga saga ch. 66, in which the problem of
sharing a horn that is too small serves as an omen to the spae-wise Sveinn
Breast-Rope that he and his namesake Sveinn Ásleifarson are doomed to a
deadly struggle that night.

To satisfy curiosity - the horn of the aurochs came in sundry sizes: the
length ranged from 433-845 millimetres along the outer curvature for bulls
(no figure given for cows), the basal (rim) circumference range was 257-395
mm. for bulls, 180-264 mm. for cows. This can be compared with a
medium-small longhorn: my own is ca. 510 mm along the outer curvature, rim
circumference ca. 244 mm, and contains about a beer and a half. The
spectacularly adorned Sutton Hoo drinking horns are thought to have come
from a bull aurochs. Like the Taplow horns, they must have been imported
from the Continent, as the aurochs was extinct in England by the late
Migration Age.

Horns come in a number of colours, the most common being brown-and-white,
black-and-white, and brownish-gray. If you plan to decorate your horn,
especially with scrimshaw, it is important to ensure that the part you plan
to decorate is a white or cream shade, as designs normally do not show up
as well on darker horns unless they are painted in with a very bright or
metallic colour.

II. Preparing your Horn

Horns normally do not come clean on the inside, and require not only
sterilizing, but coating with a protective surface or curing. The latter is
because horns both smell and taste rather strange until they have been
treated.

Begin by rinsing the horn and scraping out as much muck, dead bugs, and so
forth as you can. Then fill the horn to the brim with boiling water and let
sit until it has cooled somewhat. Scrub the inside again, using a brass
scouring pad for the upper parts, a bottle brush or similar implement (such
as the "snake" brush for cleaning brass instruments) for the parts beyond
your reach. Repeat this process about three times. If your pot is large
enough, or your horn small enough, you can simply boil the horn for several
hours to ensure that it is thoroughly clean and sterile. A couple of
Campden tablets (available at any shop that sells home-brewing supplies)
added to the water will ensure total sterilization.

The easiest way to treat the horn after sterilization is to coat the inside
with either paraffin or beeswax. Simply melt the wax in a small pot, being
careful to watch it at all times as wax is highly flammable. When melted,
pour it into the horn and swish it about until the inside is thoroughly
coated, then pour the excess back into the pot. DO NOT pour hot wax down
your sink, as it will clog the drain. The drawbacks to this method of horn
treatment are that you cannot put hot drinks in the horn, and if you leave
it in a hot place (near a stove/radiator, in your car during the summer,
and so forth), the wax will melt.

NEVER EVER COAT THE INSIDE OF YOUR HORN WITH PLASTIC-BASED PRODUCTS OR
ANYTHING WHICH MIGHT CONTAIN HARMFUL CHEMICALS!

Remember that alcohol can be a solvent, and some plastics and enamels can
also be softened or dissolved by hot drinks. The only substances which I
can recommend for coating the inside of the horn are paraffin and beeswax.

Curing the horn is a lengthier process. The late Anne Harrington
recommended beginning with a diluted solution of Lysol or similar
heavy-duty cleanser. If you do this, you must be very careful that every
last trace of cleanser residue is out of the horn before continuing, as
these chemicals are extremely toxic. Gefjon (craftswoman of "Gefjon's Arðr"
- see "Organizations and Resources") suggests the use of chlorine bleach
instead (hydrogen peroxide will weaken the keratin matrix, as will leaving
the horn in the chlorine bleach mixture more than an hour) - 3 parts bleach
to 10 parts water, boil the horn for ten minutes and allow to dry for
several days out of direct sunlight. A mixture of 3 tablespoons dishwashing
detergent per hornfull of boiling water may also be used. In all cases,
leave the horn to soak overnight. The next day, rinse it very thoroughly,
wash with simple dishwashing soap, and rinse again. When the horn is
thoroughly clean and has been purged of whatever you put in it, fill it
with a high-alcohol, strongly flavoured ale or stout and let it sit for
several days before pouring the beer out. Hopefully this will have gotten
rid of the natural aroma and flavour of the horn. If it still smells a
little raunchy, fill it with a 50-50 mixture of ale and vodka and let sit
for several more days.

III. Finishing

A sanded horn will still be rather rough. For simple finishing, rub the
horn down with a fine grade of steel wool. When it is smooth, polish with a
cloth impregnated with jeweler's rouge (available at rock-hound/jewelry
supply shops and at many jewelry stores) or rub lightly with beeswax and
polish with a clean cloth.

There are several methods of decorating a horn. If the horn is relatively
thick, very fine results can be achieved with the use of a dremmel tool;
many of Gefjon's horns show detailed carving plus the artistic use of the
natural colour-layers of the horn to create the design. Dremmel tools
should be used with extreme caution or not at all on thinner horns (such as
the ones normally supplied by Tandy), as there is always the risk of the
bit going through the horn. However, the tips of all horns are solid (see
Fig. A, inside/outside of horn; use a piece of wire to determine the inner
depth of yours) and may be carved without risk. Gefjon recommends the use
of the small stone bits for this carving.

Carving with a chisel or X-Acto knife is a little more delicate on a horn.
Straight strokes, such as the upright staves of runes, tend to peel away in
long strips. To prevent this, make small cross-cuts at the top and bottom
of your staves before graving the upright line. If you are chisel-carving
designs, carve all horizontal borders first.

Runes can be carved on a horn with a grooved or straight blade. With a
grooved blade, a single cut is enough. With a straight blade, cut in at a
slight angle, and then repeat the cut from the other side, cutting out a
grooved furrow. Slanted strokes are more easily carved with a straight
blade. Here you must be very careful, as the grain of the horn resists
cross-carving and the blade will tend to slip from your hand and score a
long cut across the horn or fly into the air. It is best to make a little
cross-cut where you want the line to end.

The easiest method of decorating a horn is scrimshaw. Draw your design
lightly in pencil where you want it. Scribe it into the horn with the point
of an X-Acto blade (single straight cuts). Cover in India ink, let dry, and
rub the ink off with steel wool. The colour will stay within the lines you
have cut. Be very careful when you cut, as the only way to erase an
unwanted line is to sand or gouge it out. The advantage of scrimshaw is
that it is relatively easy to make very detailed designs. However, they
will only show up on a white or cream background. Gefjon mentions that the
porous character of the horn will sometimes absorb ink in the wrong places.
She suggests using polymer-acrylic paint mixed with water to the
consistency of syrup. This will also allow you to use colours that will
show up better on a dark background.

Whenever using sharp implements on a horn, the horn should be clamped in a
vise and you should cut away from your body. Both the curve of the horn and
the stubbornness of the grain make it very difficult and rather dangerous
to hold the horn and carve at the same time. Assume that your tool is going
to skid free a few times during carving and decide what direction you want
it to skid in.

Finally, a woodburning tool can be used to inscribe designs on a horn, with
relatively good results. Depending on how deep and how much you burn,
different degrees of horrible odour can be produced. I have heard
descriptions ranging from "It hardly smelled at all" to "Do it outside -
and make sure the wind is blowing AWAY from your house!"

IV. Fittings

Cæsar's De Bello Gallicæ describes how the Germanic tribe-folk adorned
their aurochs horns with silver and precious stones at the rims and the
tips. Your local jeweler or silversmith can easily put a simple silver band
around the lip of the horn (approx. cost $20-30, depending on the size of
the horn and the thickness of the band), or you can do it yourself by
soldering a strip of 24 gauge fine silver (.99 pure, softer and easier to
work with than sterling, and does not form fire-scale when soldered, thus
requiring much less polishing) into a ring. Sand the rim of the horn and
the inside of the silver ring, coat with epoxy, and force the ring onto the
rim of the horn from the bottom up. If in doubt about the length, make the
ring a millimetre or so too small; you can always grind the rim of the horn
down to meet it.

The tips of horns were often decorated with metal animal heads.
Eagle-headed horns appear in the Sutton Hoo,Taplow, and Loveden Hill
burials, as well as one one example from early Migration Age Sweden;
cow-headed horns have also been found in heathen Scandinavian burials. A
good jeweler can make such fittings - but not cheaply!

For ease of carrying, a leather horn-loop can be made for your belt, using
a medium-thick tooling leather. This consists of a wide strip of leather,
perhaps tapered slightly to follow the shape of the horn, with a belt-loop
sewn onto the back before the strip's ends are sewn together. Measure your
horn about halfway up and cut out the basic shape; slide the loop onto your
belt and stick the horn in it. This same shape can also be riveted onto a
chest strap. Another way to deal with a horn is via a side-strap, permanent
or temporary. For a permanent attachment, take a long strip of leather;
measure your horn about 1/3 of the way from either end; rivet/sew loops at
either end of the strap, and epoxy them to the horn. Otherwise, rivet/sew
the strap closed, make the loops separately, rivet/sew them to the strap,
sling it over your shoulder, and slide the horn in.

V. Buying a Finished Horn

If all of the above sounds far too complicated/time consuming, beautifully
carved horns of all description, with or without silver fittings, can be
ordered from Gefjon at Gefjon's Arðr (see "Organizations and Resources").
Renaissance Faires also frequently have drinking horns for sale.

For glass horns, the loveliest currently available are the Harald horns
(one sized for beer, one for akavit) produced by the Finnish glassmakers
Iitala (pronounced ee-tah-lah). These horns, like most of Iitala's
products, are made from a lovely rippling clear glass which gives the
effect of melting ice. They also have the advantage of brass "feet"
attached so that the horn can be set on the table when not in use. Most
Scandinavian stores with a good range of glass/crystal carry Iitala's
products; I am not sure which American outlets have them. It may be
necessary to write to Iitala and ask.

"Hrist and Mist the horn shall bear me

Skeggjöld and Skögul,

Hildr and Thrúdhr, Hlökk and Herfjötur,

Göll and Geirölul;

Randgríðr and Raðgríðr and Reginleif,

they bear the einherjar ale."

- Grímnismál 36

Wood-Carving and Northern Art

by KveldúlfR Hagan Gundarsson

Wood-carving was the most highly developed artistic skill of the Northern
folk. Unfortunately, because wood rots so easily, only a few of the fine
pieces of the old days have lived to this time; but they are enough to show
us what our forebears could do. Everything that was done in metal or stone
was done better in wood; the Migration/Vendel Age jeweler's technique of
chip-carving metal is actually thought to be derived from wood-carving
skills. In the chapter "Hof-Building", the special soul-might of wood in
the Northern tradition was spoken of; wood-carving is a craft with deep
roots in the Northern spirit. It was also, together with spinning, the most
commonly done craft of our forebears: just about everyone who carried a
knife (that is, everyone!) probably spent more than a few winter evenings
carving out the things they needed for household work or chipping away to
ornament those same things. The Germanic peoples do not seem to have made a
lot of "art for art's sake": our art was mostly adornment of those things
we needed anyway - house-walls and doors, chairs, spoons, and so forth. It
was meant to make that which was used pleasing and fine in every way, and
often to bring holiness, magic, and beauty to the most basic items of
existence.

The most famous find of wood-carvings is, of course, the Oseberg
ship-burial. As well as the highly adorned ship itself, the burial included
even more highly ornamented sledges and wains, as well as the well-known
animal-head posts which appear on the covers of so many books on the Viking
Age. Some, if not all, of these items were probably meant for religious
use, and give us a good idea of how the Northern folk used wood-carving for
ritual purposes. The general impression is of activity - everything is in
motion, writhing with gripping beasts and wyrms; in a dimly lit hof or hall
with the firelight flickering over it, such items would have seemed to be
continuously moving and swirling with might.

The Vikings had all the types of chisel known today except for the V-gouge.
Aside from this one tool, any instruction on traditional methods of carving
is likely to be perfectly authentic - if you think perfect authenticity
needful for your artwork. However, we must not ever forget that our
forebears never sought to limit themselves to the tools of their forebears,
but instead, used whatever they could find to make their own work better.
The Vikings were not a low-tech, but a high-tech people for their age! Some
purists have spoken scornfully of the "soulless dremmel tool"; I myself
have successfully used a "soulless dremmel tool" for holy and magical
metalwork, rune-risting, and horn-carving, among other uses, and am quite
sure that my ancestors would have been delighted to get their hands on such
a useful item. On the other hand, it is also true that carving or doing
other hand-crafts in a traditional manner is a very fine meditation which
helps one to get into the mind-set of our ancestors in a way which mere
sitting and contemplating cannot achieve.

The range of techniques used by the Germanic peoples in their religious
carvings went all the way from the crudest hackings to make a barely
human-shaped branch slightly more human to the most ornate masterpieces of
relief and full-round carving, as seen in the Oseberg burial. As well as
being carved in relief (which takes a fair bit of training, practice, and
time to do well), pictures were also drawn as graphic-art designs and the
lines simply graven into the wood - again, something anyone with a chisel
or knife can do. Simple symbols were used as well as graphic artwork; both
a flat plank and a bowl from the Oseberg burial have plain line-drawings of
walknots graven into them, for instance.

The general style of much Scandinavian art was based on the "gripping
beast" idea - an animal or human with elongated, intertwined limbs grabbing
onto parts of itself or another gripping beast. At the end of the Viking
Age and in the hundred years following, these designs became more
elaborate, with thin tendrils twisting all over the place, giving a
generally attentuated and (in my opinion) somewhat weaker impression than
the more solid gripping beasts of the Oseberg burial.

Although Scandinavian art shared influences with Celtic knotwork, and
knotwork designs also look fitting in a Germanic setting, the art of the
North was not as neatly planned as the mathematically precise art of the
Celts. Its character is more organic - not chaotic, for there is pattern to
it, but it cannot be plotted out on a grid as Celtic knotwork can.

As well as the various intertwining designs, the Viking Age artists also
used plain, though stylized figures for representation of naturalistic
scenes. These are mostly seen on the Gotlandic picture-stones, which
depicted specific images (battles, sacrifice, the hero coming to Valhöll,
and so forth). Such images also appear in metalwork, most specifically as
the little pendants, brooches, or figurines which may have had some
religious import (the walkurja or idis with the drinking horn, the
horn-helmed dancer, and the horseman, among other common figures), and in
textile art (the Oseberg tapestry). These are particularly well-suited for
doing as simple line-carvings.

The basic guidelines I offer here are meant for the simplest sorts of
carving: if you want to take up woodcarving on a serious basis, I strongly
suggest either finding a teacher or looking for well-illustrated books on
the subject. Written descriptions alone are probably the least helpful
means of learning such a craft. However...

Choosing your wood is the first thing. This will clearly depend on what you
are doing, but there are certain things to avoid. Unless you are using a
"soulless dremmel tool", avoid oak like the plague. It is very hard and
more than a little prone to break if you try to do small detail work. Alder
is another bad wood for carving. Ash is quite good, rather on the hard
side, but not too much so, and able to take fine detail without any
difficulty. The same is true for cherry and other fruitwoods. The very best
wood for carving is linden (basswood), which is soft, but strong enough not
to splinter and flake too badly. In general, however, experience is the
best teacher.

When carving, especially if you are learning from a book or by trial and
error rather than from an experienced teacher, remember the first law of
carving:

Always Cut Away From Your Body!

As mentioned in the discussion of carving drinking horns, knives will slip.
Chisels will slip. The most you can do is make sure that when they slip,
your flesh is not in the path. I studied traditional Bavarian woodcarving
with a Meister Stein- und Holzbildhauer for several years, and I still nick
myself once in a while - that is, whenever I forget to stop and think about
where the chisel will go when it does get away. Someone who thinks s/he can
do woodcarving without slicing him/herself once in a while is either an
optimist, or a lot more cautious than I am. Someone who does not plan to
avoid or minimize all possible damage that can be done by an accident with
a knife or chisel is a fool.

You are best off if you can grip your piece tightly in a vise so that you
will have both hands free (be careful to put little pieces of scrap wood
between the jaws of the vise and your carving to keep the carving from
getting dinged or splintered). You will either have to be able to move from
side to side as the direction of your cutting changes with the grain of the
wood, or resign yourself to unclamping and reclamping the piece a lot.

When doing relief carving, always work from lowest to highest. Draw your
rough design onto the flat wood, then chop away the background area. You
will almost certainly need to use a chisel and mallet for this. Save the
highest bits (such as human noses) for the very last. Make sure that you
never undercut (cutting beneath an edge of wood so that it juts up at an
inverse angle from the background), as this will make the protruding edge
likely to break off.

Always cut with the grain or slantwise across it, never straight across it.
The reason we know that runes were first designed for wood rather than
stone or metal (in spite of the fact that we do not actually find runes on
wood until several centuries after the first metal examples) is that all
their strokes are either upright or slanted: there are no horizontal
strokes or rounded lines because these are much more difficult to do in
wood.

Keep your tools sharp. A dull edge will make the wood more likely to
splinter than to let itself be cut cleanly. Also, if the tool is not sharp,
you will have to push harder, and this makes it much more likely that you
will lose control and it will slip and gash something you didn't really
want gashed.

For simple line-carving, slant the blade slightly and make all your cuts
going one direction, then turn the piece around, slant the blade the other
way, and cut all of them into V-grooves. This can be done neatly and
effectively. If using curves in the design, be very careful, as there will
be points along the curve where the wood strongly resists being carved in
this manner. This is how woodcarvers get sliced.

With any sort of carving, the ideal is to get clean, sharp cuts which slice
away all the little flakes and need no sanding afterwards. But you will
need to sand anyway. A medium-grain sandpaper will deal with a lot of flaws
in your basic technique, and, when folded into a sharp corner, can
sometimes be more useful for defining very small details (such as eyes and
mouths) than is the actual tool. After the medium-grain, go down to a very
fine-grit, finishing with one that is about 600 for the last smoothing. On
a harder wood, such a fine sandpaper will very nearly polish it.

Once you have finished your sanding, you will want to do something else to
care for the wood of the piece. Any hobby store or wood-shop will sell
various sorts of stains and finishes, ranging from a clear wax which
darkens the natural colour just slightly and protects the wood to serious,
deep brown stains and various sorts of gildings or silverings. In the old
days, linseed oil and beeswax were probably among the favourite finishes.
If you plan to have it outdoors, you will want to get a protective finish
which is specifically designed for the purpose of waterproofing and so
forth. Remember, many of these finishes are fairly toxic, and should not be
used in a room without good ventilation - read the warnings on the labels
and take them seriously!

Carvings were often painted; the use of painting on wood by itself may also
have been fairly common, and this can really be done by anyone. To paint
wood, you first need a base undercoat; then apply your acrylics. Red,
black, white, blue, and yellow were the most popular colours of the Viking
Age.

The artistic styles of the North varied considerably over time, and simple
descriptions cannot really convey their appearance and feeling. The best I
can do is to recommend textbooks for the would-be carver or artist to seek
out. Full bibliography on all of these is in this work's "Book-Hoard".

For Migration Age art, the best single source is Karl Hauck's Die
Goldbrakteaten der Völkerwanderungszeit (7 vols., three of which are simply
photographs and line-drawings of bracteate art). Bookstores do not carry
this set, and unfortunately, it is prohibitively expensive: those who do
not have access to a good university library will probably have to resort
to asking for it through inter-library loan. The general character of the
bracteate art was spoken of in the chapter on the Migration and Vendel
Ages.

The basic text for Viking Art is, big surprise, Viking Age Art, by D.M.
Wilson and Ole Klindt-Jensen. Shirley Blubok's The Art of the Vikings is
also recommended. Another book which shows rich details of Viking artwork
is Lennart Karlsson's Nordisk Form om djurornamentik (Nordic Form of
animal-ornamentation), which is in Swedish, but is mainly an art book full
of excellent pictures ranging from ca. 400 C.E. to the end of the Viking
Age, and also has an English summary. This book can be ordered from Statens
Historiska Museum, Box 5405, S-114 84 Stockholm, Sweden (paperback, 115
Swedish kroner).

There are a number of introductory books on the Vikings in general for a
popular market which have excellent pictures and short discussions of the
different Viking Age styles. Among these are James Graham-Campbell's The
Viking World and Bertil Almgren's The Viking (otherwise known as the "Ugly
Viking" book due to the fact that the people in it all look like prunes,
and famed for a really unsurpassable 2-page illustration of Ugly Vikings
with axes chasing terrified Ugly Monks).

For representational art of the picture-stone style, the best collection of
pictures is Sune Lindqvist's Gotlands Bildsteine. This is not in print, but
the smaller, more popularly-oriented Stones, Ships, and Symbols (Erik Nýlen
and Jan-Peder Lamm) is.

Although recreations of our forebears' art-styles are an excellent way to
get in touch with their thoughts and souls, it is also important for us to
show forth our understanding of the might of the god/esses in the best way
we can, and to pay attention to other folk of this age who have worked with
the images of the North in a modern manner. The beautiful oil-paintings
from the Ring Cycle in the Nibelungensaal on Drachenfels can be just as
spiritually moving as any of the elder pieces of artwork, for instance.
David M. Wilson's The Northern World shows modern works based on Teutonic
Heathen cultural themes. A list of artists who have done work of this type
includes August Malmstrom, Constantin Hansen, Christoffer Ecksberg, Peter
Arbo, Erik Werenskiold, Edward Burne-Jones, Daniel Maclise, Thomas Bruun,
Johannes Flintoe, Henri Fuseli, Peter Cornelius, Axel Revold, N.A.
Abilgaard, M.E. Winge, Arthur Rackham, and Nils Blommer (Chisholm, James.
"Art in the Hearth", p. 24). We should also seek to bring forth our own
Heathen art, drawing, as best we can, on both traditional and modern
techniques to create the mightiest effects we can.

Spinning and Weaving

As spoken of under "Frija", these are the mightiest crafts of the Teutonic
woman - though not just limited to women, even in the elder days; Viking
men also spun on their long sea-voyages (Carol Patricia Keese, "The Ring of
Web", p. 12). Spinning and weaving are the crafts of Wyrd, deeply important
to the reborn Troth.

Spinning is the easiest way to get started, calling only for a drop spindle
and some wool (available at many craft stores which specialize in yarn and
knitting). A traditional soapstone spindle-whorl is easy to make: all you
need is a small block of soapstone (perhaps 1.5" square by 1/2" thick) and
a Swiss Army knife. The block must then be rounded off; it can be used as a
flat disk, or shaped into a wide cone - many variations on the basic shape
were used. The important thing is that it be well-balanced. The knife is
used for the basic shaping; soapstone can then be ground into shape on a
rough stone (or even a slab of concrete) and sanded smooth. A nail or a
very thin blade of some sort can be used to pierce the hole in the middle.
Again, this must be almost perfectly centered, or the spindle will wobble.

To mount the spindle-whorl, take a thin dowel (about a foot long) and taper
one end so that the whorl can be forced 2-3 inches up it. Carve a small
ring about a quarter-inch from the other end.

The easiest way for a beginner to start is to take a piece of thick yarn
and tie it just above the spindle-whorl. Twist a loop in the yarn and bring
it over the tapered end, pulling it tight just below the spindle-whorl. Now
twist another loop and pull it tightly into the little ring at the other
end of the spindle. The spindle should now be able to dangle freely. Fray
the end of the yarn about an inch above the spindle. Sort out several
pencil-thick pieces of wool about the length of your arm and lay them over
your knee. Splice the end of one into the frayed yarn and begin to spin the
spindle, pulling the wool slowly through your fingers. When you have
reached the end of that piece, splice in another.

The spun thread must always be kept tight. When this becomes uncomfortable,
untwist the original yarn-loops (being sure to still keep the spun thread
tight at all times, or it will unravel) and wind the thread around the
spindle above the whorl, leaving enough free so that you can loop it below
the whorl and at the top of the spindle as you did with the original yarn.
Continue until the spindle becomes unwieldy. When that happens, take a
stick and wind your spindle-full of yarn onto it, always being sure to keep
it tight. Start over.

Hand-spun yarn, especially a beginner's spinning, is not very good to knit
with, but it can be woven with. Since there are so many different types of
weaving, and most of them require rather more complex equipment than
spinning, we will not go into them here.

Corn dollies

Easy to make, the corn dolly probably been part of Northern religious
practice since we started harvesting grain. Also called "tomtegubber"
(manly) or "tomtegumma" (womanly).

Take a handful of dry stalks of grain and clip the heads off. Soak in water
for an hour or two, until pliable. Fold in the middle and tie string around
an inch and a half or so beneath the fold. The bulbous bit thus formed is
the head. Separate out two small bunches for arms and tie them off at the
shoulders. Tie another string tightly where you want the waist. If you are
making a tomtegumma, you can simply trim the stalks below at the desired
point and they will be her skirt. If making a tomtegubber, separate the
remaining stalks into two bunches for his legs and tie them off. Then
criss-cross two more small bundles over his shoulders and tie another
string around his waist. Trim the loose stalks at about mid-thigh height to
form the skirt of a tunic. Tie the arms along their length and trim them
where you want them. You may want to have the corn dolly holding something
(like a staff or a bundle of grain); in this case, leave extra length which
you can wrap around the item and tie tightly back to the arm.

For hair and beard, heads of grain can be stuck into the corn dolly's head.
A tomtegumma will want a little cap or such so that she does not look bald.
Corn dollies can be adorned with cloaks and hats or other wear. In Sweden,
I (KveldúlfR Gundarsson) once saw a beautiful tomtegumma who had a red
pointed hat and a red bodice sewn onto her, while stalks of grain had been
stuck head-down all about the edge of her skirt.

Corn dollies are great fun for the whole Hearth or Garth, including the
children, to make together at harvest-time. They can also be used as
god-images for a small home harrow.




Chapter LII

Things, Signs, and their Meanings

Alcohol - the preferred, though not a necessary, substance for ritual
drinking, in whatever form. Traditional beverages were beer or ale, cider,
mead, wine (common in Germany, rare in Scandinavia), and various mixtures
of fruits, honey, herbs, and malt. Modern practice has added several sorts
of strong liquor to the Teutonic drink-list as well.

For those who do not wish or are unable to use alcohol in their rites, for
whatever reason, there are several alternatives. Non-alcoholic beers and
wines are now available in most large stores, and these are perfectly
acceptable, as is non-alcoholic cider or apple juice. Many of the
goddesses, and all of the wights, can be blessed with and offered whole
milk. The chapter on "Crafts" offers a recipe for a non-alcoholic mead-type
beverage which is suitable for designated drivers, children, and other
non-drinkers.

Ale - strong beer (4-8%). May originally have referred to a rather bitter
malt beverage with herbs in it. The runic inscription ALU ("ale") was one
of the most often-used; it seems to have generally meant "luck, power",
which went together with having a plentiful supply of the stuff. In Troth
rituals, many folk prefer ales to lighter beers because their strength,
dark colour, and richness are probably more like those of the special
"strong ales" that were brewed for holy feasts.

Ale is used especially for the Wans and at the harvest-rites such as
Loaf-Feast and Winternights, but it can be used for almost any Teutonic
religious purpose whatsoever.

Amber - petrified tree sap. In the old days, amber was cast up on the
Baltic coast by the sea; now most of it is mined. Holy since the Stone Age,
amber is especially associated with the Frowe and Thonar. Also used as a
sign of one's riches, both in the old days and now. A great holder of fiery
might, and a very fine amulet against all ill.

The sorts of amber that can be found today are Baltic, Dominican (from
South America), and Africa (not actually amber - resin in the process of
forming amber). Because of its lightness of weight, amber fakes are also
very common. A reputable dealer will be able to tell the origin of the
amber.

Amber comes in a range of colours from deep cherry-red to palest yellow.
The colour is a sign of its age: the oldest ambers are the darkest.

Apples - The word "epli" in Old Norse, literally our "apple", was used to
mean any round fruit; the specialization of the word in German and English
shows that the apple was seen as the greatest of fruits. The apple is the
sign of life through death, fruitfulness springing forth from the grave. In
Völsunga saga, when the Wodan-descended king Rerir is unable to get a child
with his wife, he sits on a burial mound in search of rede, and Wodan sends
a walkurja to him there with an apple that Rerir and his wife eat to become
fruitful. Here, the apple is the embodiment of the Völsungs' kin-soul
springing to life again. This is also borne out by the name of the apple
tree that grows through Völsi's hall: Barnstokkr, the "bairn-stock".

Wild apples have been found in Scandinavian graves since the Bronze Age -
three crab-apples were set in the coffin of the child in Guldhøj, perhaps
"to give the little child a longer life in the next world than the brief
one it had had here on earth" (Gløb, The Mound People, p. 92). There were a
great many apples set in the Oseberg burial as well, at least one bucket
and one chest were filled with them.

Today, apples (and fermented cider) are used especially at Winternights (as
harvest signs), Yule (as a sign of the oneness of the living and their dead
kin), and at Ostara, when our golden apples mirror the apples of Iðunn (see
"Frija and other Goddesses").

Ash-tree - the World-Tree is most often thought to be an Ash (though words
have been spoken for the yew). Ash was the wood out of which spear-shafts
were made; it is thus tied closely to Wodan. The first human male, Askr
("Ash") was shaped from this tree.

Axe - thought of as the most typical weapon of the Vikings, but sources do
not really support this. Battle-axes were used, but swords and spears seem
to have been more important. The Franks took their tribal name from a
particular type of throwing-axe.

In the eldest days, the axe was a very holy sign (see "Stone Age"). It
appears as a warding amulet from the Bronze Age to the Viking Age; it is
often thought that the Hammer of Thonar may have developed from the elder
thunder-axe.

Bee - the bee gives us honey, which is used both for healing (it is an
excellent antiseptic and preservative, and was utilized for both purposes
in the old days) and mead-brewing, and beeswax, which is used for candles
and often for sealing the insides of horns. In the Kalevala, the bee brings
Lemminkäinen's mother the drop of life-bearing honey she needs to bring her
slain son to life again. The Anglo-Saxon charm to bring down a swarm of
bees addresses them as "sig-wives". There are also two bees at the Well of
Wyrd, according to Snorri. Though there is no clear tie between the bees
and any goddesses (their might is obviously womanly), they are very holy
wights and their gifts among the most blessed and luck-bringing elements of
our rites. Among the Frisians, a child that had had milk and/or honey on
its mouth could not be exposed; the Russians made offerings of honey to the
gods and the dead. See Ransome's book, The Sacred Bee.

Beer - see "Ale".

Beech - the name comes from the same root as "book". The beech is a womanly
tree, thought in modern times to be tied closely to the Norns and Frija.

Bells - worn by priests of Fro Ing.

Birch - the birch is a womanly tree, closely tied to Frija, Eir, and Hella.
It is a tree of cleansing and birth-blessing, but also of hiding. It is
used most in sauna and in rites of springing fruitfulness.

Bread - the basic food, a midpoint between raw grain and ale. A source of
life and might in all realms: our word "lord" stems from "hlaford"
(loaf-giver); "lady" comes from "hlafdiga" (loaf-kneader). Since most of us
are no longer able to bless a winter-slaughtering to the god/esses, bread
is the best form for our holy gifts to take.

Caraway seeds - caraway seeds were used in old days, not only to flavour
bread, but to keep various sorts of huldfolk from stealing it, as they
dislike caraway very much. Those who wish to share food with alfs,
land-wights, or any other such beings should be careful to avoid bread or
cakes with caraway in them, which includes most commercial rye-breads.

Cat - see "The Frowe". Associated with seiðr and fruitfulness; may also be
a house-ghost in disguise.

Cattle - cattle are very holy beasts; there are several references to
cattle with gilded horns (as in Þrymskviða and Helgakviða Hjörvarðssonar),
and others to magical cattle (as in Ragnars saga loðbrókar). They are
generally associated with the Vanir, but are acceptable gifts for all the
god/esses and wights.

Cauldron - the cauldron, or kettle, played a very important part in Norse
religion. The name or name-element Ketill or Katla (kettle) was very common
in the Viking Age and almost certainly first had a ritual meaning. In
Grímnismál, Óðinn mentions, "when kettles are heaved off the fire".
Grønbech argues strongly for the cauldrons seething the sacrificial feast
as embodiments of the might of the three great Wells of Wyrd, Mímir, and
Hvergelmir (II, 290-97).

Cider - Fermented apple juice. See "Apples". In the States, non-fermented
apple juice is often sold under the name of "cider". If real cider cannot
be gotten, this can either be fermented as if it were a sparkling wine or
beer (most brewer's supply stores will have books or instructions for
making such things - look in your Yellow Pages), or, as a last resort, a
shot of vodka can be added to give it some extra might.

Colour: the basic three are white (birth/bringing forth), red (life/active
being), and black (death/concealment). Gold falls into the class of red,
dark blue and dark green into the class of black, and so forth. Different
colours are associated with the god/esses - sometimes this is traditional,
as with "Red Þórr" and Wodan's blue-black cape; sometimes it is a modern
creation. We have tried very hard to note the difference between the two in
this book.

Copper: used for the blessing-bowl in Kjalnesinga saga. One ON word for it
is homonymic with, though likely not related to, the goddess-name Eir, so
that folk-etymology or von List-like magical association may associate it
with her. Not thought of as a precious metal and thus not fitting for
oath-rings.

Crystal - Rock crystal was often used by our forebears as a holy stone. The
Continental Germans of the Migration Age sometimes hung large hex-shaped
crystal beads from the hilts of their swords. The rock-crystal spheres of
late Migration Age/early Vendel Age women are spoken of under "Frija". Rock
crystal in its raw form is sometimes thought of as a stone of the etins,
especially Skaði.

In Old High German, crystal was called "ice-stone" and it is well suited to
all icy might. The "hrímkalkr" spoken of in Svipdagsmál may have been a
glass cup or, as befitted the etin-maid who bore it, a cup made of ice.

Crystal was a common stone in Germanic jewelry, both as beads and as a gem
set in silver. An eleventh-century Swedish piece shows a necklace made of
hemispherical rock crystals edged in silver: reproductions of this piece
have been found to act as perfect magnifying glasses.

Eagle - the mightiest of all birds. Its shape is taken by etins (Hræsvelgr,
Þjazi) and by Óðinn. An eagle sits at the top of the World-Tree. We do not
know its name; it is possible that it is the same as Hræsvelgr, who is
spoken of in Vafþrúðnismál as sitting in the east and beating forth the
winds of the worlds with his wings. There is also an eagle on top of
Valhöll. The possible tie between the eagle and Thonar is spoken of in
"Thonar".

Elder - a tree of the Frowe. A traditional wine can be made from its
flowers for her brighter side, from its berries for her darker side. Do not
try to make Elderberry mead, as the berries are too acid to blend with the
honey.

Elm - the first woman, Embla (Elm) was shaped from this tree.

Falcon: the falcon is the womanly match to the eagle. Both Frija and the
Frowe have falcon-cloaks.

Fire - divided into "need-fire" (kindled by friction - discussed under
"Waluburg's Night") and "struck-fire" (sparked by flint and steel -
discussed under "Thonar"). See the chapter on "Practice".

Glass - in the old days, having a glass cup was a major status symbol; a
few such pieces made their way up to Scandinavia as early as the third
century. Slightly later in the Migration Age, it became common for
glassmakers along the Rhine to make glass horns for Germanic folk, who
found the material very fair, but were unwilling to give up the traditional
horn-shape.

Goat - the Goat is the beast of Thonar, and perhaps also of Skaði. As a
mighty wight, the "Yule-buck", it is seen during the Wih-Nights (see
"Yule").

Gold - always spoken of as "fire" in skaldic kennings (the "fire of the
hawks'- land" is a gold ring on someone's arm, for instance). Especially
dear to the Frowe, Sif, and Fro Ing, though Wodan is also spoken of as a
giver of gold in Hyndluljóð.

Grain - the source of bread and ale; the very life of our forebears.
Although most of us have no actual fields to bless, in our rites, we speak
of grain and use sheaves as signs of all that our souls bring forth.

Hair - Hair is a sign of life-might and holiness, the chief marker of
beauty in Northern thought. The name "Odinkaur" may well mean "the one with
hair hallowed to Óðinn" - that is to say, someone who grew his hair long as
a sign of his dedication. The rule-might of the Merovingian kings was all
embodied in their hair. It could also be the special emblem of a vow:
Haraldr inn hárfagri vowed never to cut nor comb his hair until he had
brought all Norway under his rule. Someone who really wanted to might be
able to make a case for overriding a short-hair dress code rule on
religious grounds.

Hammer - the Hammer

is the symbol of Thonar,

and also the general

sign of hallowing, worn

by true folk as a sign that

they hold to the Elder Troth

and used as a saining-

gesture.

Harrow - ON hörgr; probably originally a heap of stones. Used by folk today
to mean an altar. Those who have outdoor steads prefer to use a heap of
stones or a single great boulder; those who do not often have wooden
harrows. A small cabinet in which the holy tools can be kept while not in
use is very good for this purpose.

Hawthorn - the hawthorn embodies the might that wards the wih-stead. Its
connection with Hagen ("Hawthorn") may also hint at a tie with the darker
shapes of Wodan.

Head - the head was seen as the embodiment of the whole being, the seat of
the soul. Small staves carved with heads at one end are often found in Rus
settlements and are thought to be god-images of the sort described by ibn
Fadlan. The Oseberg sledges and wagon were decorated with heads at the four
corners (one has human heads, another has rather stylized cat-heads), and
the burial also included ornate beast-head posts, which may have been used
in processions. Masks are also very common in Northern art, especially on
Danish runestones of the late tenth/early eleventh centuries and worked
into the bird-shaped (eagles and ravens) brooches of the late Vendel and
early Viking Ages.

Heart - seen in modern times

as a symbol of the Frowe's

might of love and lust (see

"The Frowe").

Heart of the Home - the point from which all might springs, where the
high-seat pillars should be set up and all rites should be carried out. If
the house has a fireplace, the heart of the Home will be the hearth.
Otherwise, you should choose a place, hallow it, and use it for worship
thereafter.

Helm of Awe - used for warding; gives

its wearer might and fills those who come

against its wearer with terror. Traditional

Icelandic sign. The dragon Fáfnir was

said to have the Helm of Awe between

his eyes.

Herbs - plants, most often used for medicinal, magical, or holy plants. Our
forebears had a wide range of herb-lore, some of which is preserved in the
Anglo-Saxon charm spells (see Storms, Anglo-Saxon Magic) and in folklore.
The best general guide to both the medicinal and folkloric uses of herbs is
Mrs. M. Grieves' A Modern Herbal.

Hex-sign - a sign of hallowing and warding,

traditionally put on the walls of houses or

barns. One of the most common designs in

Germanic folk-art.

Holly - traditional as a Yule decoration. In modern times, thought to be
especially a tree of the Mound-Alfs.

Honey - see "Bee"

Horn - the best vessel for ritual use.

Horses - the Horse is the holiest of beasts. In old days, eating horseflesh
was the specific sign of a Heathen, which is why it was made illegal after
the conversion and why such a strong prejudice against it still lingers in
English-speaking lands. Next to human beings, horses were the best of all
gifts that could be given to the god/esses. Their sacrifice was not
practical, as was that of cattle, since they were usually worth more as
riding and draught animals than as meat.

According to Tacitus, the early Germanic folk thought Horses to have
prophetic powers. A great many bracteates show the image of a man on a
horse, which seems to have been thought a particular sign of power.

The Horse is particularly associated with the Wans and with Wodan. It is a
beast of both fruitfulness and death. In the latter aspect, its head was
used on nithing poles. Horse heads were also buried in Alamannic cemeteries
during the Migration Age, probably as protections, and carved on gables for
the same purpose.

House-Pillars - the great pillars that stood on either side of the high
seat, in which the luck of the household lived. In old days they were
structural supports of the hall's roof, but that is not usually workable
now. Instead wooden pillars or long planks, carved or painted fittingly
with images of god/esses, heroes, and forebears, may be set up in whatever
place the heart of the home is deemed to be.

Howe - the howe, or burial mound, is the meeting point between the world of
the living and the world of the dead. Kings and thuls (see below) sat on
the mound to speak with the wisdom of their forebears; spell-workers of
sundry sorts also sat out on mounds. Helgi Hjörvarðsson was sitting on a
mound when he saw the spae-idis who gave him his name, wyrd, and reason for
being. In Sweden, offerings were still made to holy howes at Yuletime in
this century. The howe is especially ruled by Fro Ing and Wodan.

Iron - Sunwynn Ravenwood has pointed out that the word "iron" originally
meant "holy metal", which may tell us something of why iron nails were
hammered into the pillars of Heathen hofs. Iron is a good ward against evil
spells and wights of ill, especially iron knives.

Leek - the leek is the embodiment of new-springing might, particularly
manly might. Given to Helgi Hunding's-Bane at birth by his father Sigmundr;
also, the first herb to grow after the making of the worlds. Especially
fitting for Ostara, birth-rites, and weddings. Paired with the womanly
linen in a bracteate inscription and in Völsa þáttr.

Linen - cloth spun from flax, the finest native cloth available to our
forebears and the best for ritual gear and use in sauna. Embodies womanly
might and fruitfulness. Especially holy to Frija and her related goddesses
or German shapes, Berchta and Holda.

Mead - the mightiest traditional drink of the Teutonic folk, both
spiritually and, at an alcoholic level ranging from 13-18%, physically.
Technically, an alcoholic drink made with only honey, water, and yeast (see
chapter on Mead-making). The term is generally used for any honey-based
homebrew, though, including those made with the addition of fruit (properly
"melomel") or with herbs and/or spices ("metheglin"). Among the god/esses,
especially associated with Wodan, the winner of the mead of poetry.

Milk - traditionally given to house-ghosts; can also be given to Frija and
the other house-goddesses. As a gift, it should always be whole milk or
even half-and-half, never semi-skimmed or skimmed. Milk can also be blessed
as a special draught of healing or might for a human; in this case,
semi-skimmed or skimmed is all right.

Necklace - the necklace is

the sign of the Frowe, Nerthus,

and perhaps Earth. The four-

ringed necklace may be

thought of as especially the

Frowe's sign.

Oak - the holiest of trees. Oak is the tree of Thonar; a lightning-struck
oak is mightiest of all. Oak is a very good wood to make a harrow from,
ritually speaking; but it is a very hard wood, and is not easy to carve.

Oaths - there were none mightier than the one who swore a great oath and
kept it, none more loathed and looked down on than the one who broke an
oath, and none thought more foolish than those who swore an oath beyond
their strength to uphold. The oath-swearing itself is an act by which one
steps into the garth of the god/esses, and they all hear and witness the
words spoken. All should hold back from swearing oaths before they have
thought well on them, or before they understand what oath-making truly is.
The oath you speak is your very soul, all your life and luck and might
together.

Recels - incense; may have been used in elder times, though we are not
sure. Some like to use it, some do not. It can be used as a means of
cleansing the gathered folk by carrying the burner about and fanning
wih-smoke over them, or of hallowing a stead and filling it with a might
that is fitting to the work being done. To be strictly traditional,
Northern herbs should be used rather than any of the Southern gums (such as
frankincense). In modern times, essential oil burners are also sometimes
used.

Rings - the holy oaths were sworn on an unbroken ring weighing at least two
ounces and made of precious metal. Grønbech mentions that "This treasure
was as far beyond ordinary possession as the great holiness was beyond the
ordinary blessing of everyday" (II, p. 140). Rings were used on the hilts
of swords in the Migration and Vendel ages, possibly for oath-swearing or
as the sign of the troth between sword-bearer and sword-giver. The very
might of the god/esses was embodied in the holy ring used in the hof.

Armrings are also given as a sign of friendship or oaths; one kenning for a
ruler was "ring-breaker", for as a sign of favour the ruler would break
coils from the gold or silver wires that he wore spiraled about his arms.

Images of the gods are often seen with holy rings, as on the "three-god
bracteates" (see "Balder") and the Gotlandic picture-stones. Small
figurines of Scandinavian origin which show the ring or wreath have been
found in an Eastern Baltic fortress and a grave on the upper Dneps: a
bearded man with a sword at his side holds a huge twisted ring or wreath in
his right hand and stretches his left out. This may represent a god as holy
ring-giver.

Wodan holds the great gold ring Draupnir (dripper), which gives birth to
eight rings matching its weight every ninth night.

Runes - the writing of the early Germanic folk, still used by Heathens -
especially for magical and religious purposes, though sometimes for
ordinary communication as well. See Gundarsson's Teutonic Magic, Aswynn's
Leaves of Yggdrasil, and Thorsson's Futhark and Runelore in the Hearth
reading list.

Shield-knot - a sign of warding,

used on a bracteate, a picture-

stone, and Scandinavian signs

which designate historical or

natural monuments.

Ship - sign of death

and fruitfulness since

at least the Bronze Age,

most closely tied to the Wanic

processions and to Wodan.

Spear - the weapon of Wodan, used to hallow something that is given to him
and may well soon be destroyed in the Middle-Garth.

Spiral - suggested in modern times as a hallowing sign for Frija.

Spindle - Frija's emblem;

sign of Wyrd and of

womanly might.

Stag - the stag was thought of as the noblest of beasts; both Sigurðr and
Helgi Hunding's-Bane are compared to high-antlered stags by their grieving
widows. Because Fro Ing fights with an antler at Ragnarök, it is usually
thought to be his beast.

Stones - Grimm thought that stone-lore was not typical of the Teutonic
folk, but since then archaeology has found that our forebears often used
various stones as amulets, and the Icelandic laws also mention the use of
magical stones. Little work has yet been done to recover the stone-lore of
our forebears.

Stones are holy in and of themselves, and fit for blessing or using as
focal points of a rite, either as the body of an outdoor harrow or as
something set on an indoor one. Vésteinn - Wih-stone - was a common Old
Norse name, as was Þórsteinn - Þórr-stone.

Sun-Wheel - generally

used today as a hallowing

sign for the Wans.

Swan - always a womanly bird (and used as a first element in women's
names); sometimes becomes a swan-maiden, who may speak spae-words. Snorri
tells of two swans at the Well of Urðr.

In the Kalevala, there is a black swan that swims in the river of Tuonela
(the realm of death). There is no evidence for this in the Norse sources,
but one might perhaps think that Hella could have just such a black swan to
match the white ones of the Norns.

The spae-idis Kára became a swan to defend her Helgi in battle: as the
embodiment of the soul's shining bride, the swan is often seen as the sign
of the soul's striving towards the god/esses and of blessing from them.

Swastika - Often thought to

be associated with Thonar

(see chapter) or else a sun-

symbol. Should not be

shown in public, for obvious

reasons. A "kinder, gentler"

swirling form was also used

by our forebears, and may

be used by those who

cannot get over the recent

misuse of the sign by the Nazis.

Deosil and widdershins forms

were used indiscriminately by

our forebears.

Swine - holy to Fro Ing and the Frowe; see chapters for further discussion.

Sword - the basic weapon of the well-born Germanic warrior. Most magical of
weapons, most frequently named (by a very high factor indeed), most often
seen as the embodiment of the family soul. Original weapon of Fro Ing, but
used by followers of all the god/esses, with the exception of Anglo-Saxon
godmen, who were not allowed to bear weapons (as described in Bede's
Ecclesiastical History).

Thule - a thule is a speaker of some sort; the word is related to the ON
verb thylja (to speak or mumble). Wodan is called Fimbulþulr; Unferth, who
challenges Beowulf to a single combat of words and wit in Hrothgar's hall,
is also given the title þyle, and the AS word þyl-cræft is glossed as
rhethorica (rhetoric). The Danish Snøldelev stone memorializes a man called
Gunnvaldr, who was "thule on the Sal-howes" with the inscription of his
name and office beside a swastika and a triskelion made of three
interlocked drinking horns (now used as the emblem of the Rune-Gild) which
some think may have been the sign of the three cauldrons from which Óðinn
drank the mead of skaldcraft, Óðroerir (Wod-Stirrer).

Trefot - also called triskelion

(swirling form). Might whirling

from the three great realms of

being. The emblem of the

Island of Man and the Celtic

Manannan mac Lir; also sug-

gested as a possible sign for

Heimdallr in modern usage.

Völva - a seeress. The word comes from ON völr (staff) and seems to mean
"womanly staff-bearer" (cf. the walkurja-name Göndull/Wodan-name Göndlir,
and also the early German seeress "Waluburg", whose name stems from the
same root as völr). Wodan himself calls völvur up to tell him of what shall
become in Völuspá (the Völva's spae) and Baldrs draumar; in both cases,
they seem to be etin-wives, and the völva of the latter has lain dead in
her howe for some while. There is likely some relationship between the
völva and the thule; the titles might even have originally been womanly and
manly descriptions of the same sort of gifted seer on the mound, though the
title of "thule" seems, at least among the English, to have developed into
the more earthly role of hall-speaker or word-champion, while the völvur of
Eddic poetry speak (in Baldrs draumar, unwillingly) at Óðinn's behest.

Wain - the wain, or wagon, together with the ship, was the chief vehicle of
the Wans' holy processions. Among the many names for the Big Dipper was
"the Wain"; in Holland, it was known as "Woenswaghen" (Wodan's Wagon) as
late as 1470 (Grimm, Teutonic Mythology I, p. 151). Thonar also fares in a
wain drawn by two goats.

Walknot - "knot

of the slain",

sign of Wodan,

used both in

a triple and a

unicursal form,

though only by

those given to

Wodan.

Water - Landnamabók (Hauksbók 146) mentions places in Iceland called both
"Helgavatn" (Holy Water) and "Urðarvatn" (Wyrd's Water). In Teutonic
Mythology, Grimm cites a number of customs having to do with the use of
hallowed water - that is, water drawn from a running spring or holy well,
usually done just before sunrise in total silence. Water embodies
life-force; a deep body of water can also embody the Well of Wyrd. Gifts to
the god/esses were often sunk into water in the old days.

Wreath - the wreath is the living form of the ring. It is a sign of both
troth and hallowing. Holy wreaths can be made to be hung up in your house
or hall, or used as garlands to bless folk with. Wreaths of evergreen,
nuts, and apples are most fitting at Yule-time, birch and pussy willow at
Ostara, spring flowers and rowan on Waluburg's Night and May Day, elder at
Midsummer's, grain and rowan berries at Loaf-Feast, and grain, nuts, and
straw at Winternights.

Wyrm - sign of hidden might. Runes were carved inside wyrm-ribbons in the
last part of the Viking Age and the first part of the christian era;
wyrm-prows were used on ships, and "Ormr" was a ship-name as well as a
personal name. Very often used in Northern art.

Yew - a tree of death, still planted in burial grounds. Perhaps the
World-Tree. Closely tied to Wulþur, who dwells in "Yew-Dales", and to
Wodan; also to the Yule-time.

Yew is a very poisonous tree. Do not eat any part of it, do not burn any
part of it and breathe the smoke or vapours, do not bring it into a house
with small children or plant-eating pets. One British occultist in recent
times deliberately killed himself by eating yew-berries; an American member
of the Rune-Gild accidentally almost killed himself by burning the berries
and inhaling their smoke.




Chapter LVII

Word-Hoard

* - shows that a word is a philologically reconstructed form which does not appear in any actual texts. Usually shows a Proto-Indo-European, Proto-Germanic, or Primitive Norse form.

airts - the eight winds or directions of the compass.

alf - álfr (Old Norse), elf (mod. English - most Troth folk avoid the word because of its association with cute little flower fairies and/or the elves of heroic fantasy, who normally bear little or no resemblance to the elves our forebears knew).

amber slut - anyone who buys more amber than s/he can hang on his/her body at any given time. Also, someone who owns more amber than you do. We would love to say that the term is archaic and preserves mysteries of Freyja, but actually, we just made it up not all that long ago. Don't laugh, this is the way traditions get started.

ard - an early form of plough. 

are - Saxon English, honor 

AS - Anglo-Saxon

Ásatrú (modern Old Norse formation) - "true to the Æsir", but often used as a general term for the Teutonic religion. Cf. "Vanatrú", "Troth".

Ase - Áss (ON), *ese (AS), ansus (Gothic), *'ansuz (Proto-Gerruanic). A god (pl. Æsir), perhaps originally an ancestor-ghost; Jordanes mentions that the fore-gone heroes of the Goths were called "anses", which he, perhaps thinking as a christian, translates "half-gods".

atheling - Saxon English, noble 

aye - forever
bade - Saxon English, "prayer"

Bjarni Herjólfsson lcelandic Navigation Memorial Award - a herring, given to those who have directions to the ritual, but get so lost anyway that they never do show up. Despite Leifr Eiríksson's claim to fame, Bjarni Herjólfsson was the first European to find America, though Leifr and his folk were the first European settlers there.

blót - ON, "blessing" or "sacrifice". Despite the frequency of this false etymology, the word is not related to any words for blood. " blót " can either be a noun speaking of the rite itself (and sometimes used in modem times specifically for the ale or mead sacrificed), or a verb, "to blót ".

blótbolli - ON, "blessing-bowl" 
blotorc - AS, "'blessing-bowl"

bracteate - a thin disk-shaped pendant, usually made of gold, with a stamped design and often a. tunic inscription. The first were modeled on Roman coins; but the images used reflect different aspects of Germanic religion. See Karl Hauck's Die Goldbrakteaten der volkerwanderungszeit (7-vol. catalogue with pictures and descriptions of all known bracteates); also, Rauck's many articles in the journal Frühmittelalterlichen Studien which explore bracteate iconography, especially that which deals specifically with aspects of the cult of Wodan.

bog people - corpses found in peat bogs (especially in Denmark, Southern Sweden, and Northern Germany), beautifully preserved by the tannic water and anaerobic environment. A particular group from Denmark, dating from ca. 200 B.C.E. - 500 C.E., are thought to have mostly been sacrifices of some sort. The bog people were written up in the book The Bog People by a Danish archaeologist with the unlikely, but eerily appropriate, name of P.V. Gløb. We are not making this up.

deosil - clockwise. The usual direction for ritual movement; drawing down might from the heavens.

dern - Saxon English, "secret" (adj.).

drighten/drightine (or drightening) - Saxon English; generally, "ruler"; specifically, leader of a warband or other group bound to a single purpose. Cf. "fro/frowe".

ð - "edh" - soft dh, as in "the". A Gernannic sound (now, like þ [look at the end of the glossary], preserved only in English and Icelandic) which there was no Roman letter to express, written in Anglo-Saxon and Old Norse.

Egill Skalla-Grímsson Drekk-til-at-Spýja ("Drink till you Barf") Memorial Award - asprin or equivalent and Alka-Selzer, given the morning after to those who imitate one of Egill's less overwhelmingly glorious activities at Asatni feasts.

einherjar (ON) - "Single-Harriers"; Wodan's chosen heroes. Singular einheri.

elhaz stance - hands and head upraised. Root-elhaz; - hands at sides, feet spread; full elhaz - hands raised, feet spread. Calls might respectively from above, below, or both.

etin - Saxon English (ON jötunn); a giant, usually one of great wisdom and magical might.

euhemerization - the nasty practice of claiming that god/esses were originally human beings, who, through clever swindling or the gullibility of their descendants, came to be worshipped as deities.

Fenrir - the great Wolf, Son of Loki and Angrboda, who is hound and will be freed at Ragnarök. Despite popular opinion, Fenrir is the proper Old Norse form; "Fenris is the genitive, used in the formulaic phrase "Úlfr Fenris" (cf. the like formula "askr Yggdrasils").

ferth - non-physical part of the human being.

fetch - animal-shaped half-free part of the soul. ON fylgia, AS fæcce. 
flyting - a duel of insults, usually obscene

Fold - another name for Earth 
Fosite - Foseti, Forseti (ON) 
Freyr - Fro 'rig, Old Norse 
Freyja - the Frowe, Old Norse

Frija - Frigg (Old Norse), *Frijjo (Proto-Germanic), Fricka (Wagner). Not to be confueed with the Frowe Freyja)

frith - Saxon English, "fruitful peace and happiness".

frithgarth - "peace-enclosure" - an enclosure in which weapons cannot be drawn nor blood shed. Especially connected with the Wans.

Fro/frowe - 'lord'/'lady', implies judicial/peacetime function.

Fro Ing - *Fraujaz Ingwaz (Proto-Germanic), Frea Ing (Anglo-Saxon), also called Yngvi or Yngvi-Freyr (Old Norse), Froh (Wagner), Frauja Engus (Gothic). Sometimes called 'Fricco' (Old High German), but this is probably erroneous; see discussion in chapter.

Frowe, the - Freyja (Old Norse), Freo (Anglo-Saxon), *Fraujon (ProtoGermanic). 'The Lady'; no other name known. See chapter.

Futhark  a runic "alphabet", so called from the first six runestaves - f, u, þ, a, r, k/c. The Elder Futhark has 24 runes; the Younger (Viking Age) Futhark has roughly sixteen; the Anglo-Frisian Futhork varies from 28 to 32; the Armanen (early 20th century) has 18.

fylgja - see fetch.

galdr (ON) - a magical song; also "galdr nagic" Used in modern times for rune magic, to contrast with "seiðr". Also Galdor.

Gamla Uppsala - "Old Uppsala" - the site of the great assembly mounds and (probably) the great Heathen hof descrihed by Adam of Bremen.

garth - enclosure", used in a general term for a dwelling. Cf Ases' Garth, the Middle-Garth.

Germanic English - see Saxon English 
glóðker (ON - incense burner. Also AS recelbuc 
góði (ON) - godman

godwo/naan - Old Norse góði (manly)/gyðja (womanly). A priest or priestess.

greet - as well as the usual meaning of welcome, can also mean "to weep (Scots dialect)

grith - Old Norse griðr, friendship

gyðja (ON) - godwoman

harrow - an "altar'. Stalli or hörgr (ON); weofed (AS).

heill (ON) - holy/lucky/blessed/whole. Heill is the manly adjective, heil womanly, heilt neuter. heilir manly plural, heilar womanly pl., heil neuter or mixed pl.

heiti (ON) - a by-name. The singular and plural forms of the word are the same.

high - Saxon English; see hug.

holt - a woodland

howe - burial mound

hug (soul/heart/thought) - huge, hugr (ON), hyge (AS), high (Saxon English)

idis - dís (ON). Generally, "atheling-frowe", also "goddess", and specifically used for the womanly clan-ghosts who still ward and care for their living kin.

interpretatio Germanica - "Germanic interpretation"; the practice of translating Roman names, concepts, or images into their nearest equivalent in the existing Germanic cultural framework.

interpretailo Romana - "Roman interpretation"; the practice of translating "barbarian" deities or beliefs with Roman names and Roman equivalents.

Irminsul - "great pillar", destroyed by Charlemagne in 772 C.E. *Eormensyll (AS).

kenning - a poetic circumlocution particularly characteristic of skaldic poetry. For instance, because gold is reddish and Bright, and the dragon Fáfnir's hoard came out of the Rhine, a skald might say that his patron (who, as a warrior, could he called "Óðinn of helmets" or something similar) gave him "the fire of the Rhine".

lour - Scots dialect, "to threaten; threatening, ominous".

Royal Order of the Water-Buffalo Helm - the cow-homed helmets worn by Vikings in cartoons and on tacky souvenirs from Scandinavia.

main - strength, ON meginn 
meed - reward

minne - memory-toast, often drunk at symbel.

mod - ON móðr - mood, bravery; see 'Soul, Death, and Rebirth"

Nerthus - probably a Latinized form of Proto-Germanic Nerthuz. 'Mother Earth'; see discussion under chapter on Njórðr & Nerthus.

nibel - mist/darkness. Cf. Nibel-Home, Nibelungen.

Nibel-Horne - ON Niflheimr, 'World of Mist/Darkness". The ur-worid of ice, lying down and to the north.

Nibelungen - "Folk of Mist-Darkness'. Probably originally some sort of alfs; the name was later given to the Burgundian royal house of the Gibichungs (German)/Gjúkings (Norse). The connection may have originally been via the person of Hagen, whom Þiðreks saga and probably the Ältere Not (lost ur-source for it and Nibelungenlied) describe as the son of an alf. Wagner, surprisingly, seems to have come rather closer to the root-conception by making his Nibelungen into Svartálfar, or dwarves.

nicor - water-wight

Njórðr - Old Norse, often Anglicized to Njord. From Proto-Germanic Nerþuz.

norn - female being who lays ørlög and shapes wyrd. The wyrd of the worlds is shaped by the three great Norns, Wyrd (Urðr), Verðandi, and Skuld. There are also many lesser norns who come to children at birth; see the chapter on "Idises".

nytt - ON nýta, AS nytte - to enjoy and benefit from.

Oden - Wodan, modern Danish/Swedish/Norwegian

Óðinn - Wodan, Old Norse.

Odin - Wodan, Anglicized Norse

Óláfr inn digri - Óláfr the Fat or Big-Mouthed (also known today as Óláfr the Lawbreaker or Óláfr the Asshole). This is how "St. Óláfr" was known before his canonization. Died 1030. Not to be confused with his equally wretched predecessor, Óláfr Tryggvasonr (known today as Óláfr the Traitor), despite the fact that the actions and attitudes of the two great christian tyrants of Norway make it almost impossible to keep them separate.

ON - Old Norse

Picture stones - a type of free-standing memorial stone, nearly all of which were made on the Swedish island Gotland. They begin to be carved Ca. 400 C.E., but the art reached its height in 700-900. The most common motif on them is the image of a horse and rider. The best-known ones are those of Tjangvide and Ardre, which show the rider on an eight-legged horse with a woman (probably a walkurja) offering him a horn, but others show scenes of sacrifice, battle, and ship-farings. See Lamm/Nylen's Stones, Ships, and Symbols and Lindqvist's Gotlands Bildsteine.

-R - found in Old Norse names such as FreyR, ÞórR, and KveldúlfR (more usually appears in lower-case, except in transliterations of runic inscriptions where it shows the elder elhaz or younger yr stave). Derived from Proto-Germanic final -z (*Þonaraz > ÞórR); normally denotes a strong masculine nominative. ON masculines ending in -nn, -ll (Óðinn, Egill) also show an original -z, which became the reduplicated final letter of the stem (*Woðanaz > Óðinn; *Agilaz > Egill). In all these cases, the last letter of the nominative disappears in the genitive, so that "Wodan's spear" would be " Óðinns geirr". Conflisingly, some names such as Baldr which look as though they ought to have a final -R do not; this is because the -r is part of the stem (cf. Old English bealdor)

recelbuc (AS) - incense burner.

recels - incense. Also called wih-smoke.

Rock-carvings - pictorial records of Bronze Age magic/religion, usually carved on large slabs of bedrock, though free-standing ones have also been found. See Glob's The Mound People.

Rune-stones - free-standings memorial stones  (usually) with runic inscriptions, found all through continental Scandinavia. Ca. 300 - 1200 C.E. See Moltke's Runes and their Origins.

Saxon English - modern English using only words grounded in the Northern speeches Such English calls for many words which have been lost in time to be found anew: drighten, thane, thew, sig, wod, and so forth. Many Troth folk try to use only Saxon English for ritual work; Hollander's Poetic Edda shows how this may be done. However, the best writing which has yet been done in Saxon English is Poul Anderson's "Uncleftish Beholding."

seiðr (ON) - a type of magic, generally considered feminine, although men worked it as well. The precise character is difficult to tell: in modern times, it has been opposed to the runic "galdr-magic", although both seiðr and galdr were characterized especially by singing. Among the workings classed as seiðr were shamanic practices, particularly soul-faring in a different shape; fore-seeing; dealing with spirits; and spells cast on the rrind to delude or cause hallucinations. Seiðr got a particularly nasty reputation after the conversion.

shild - debt

skald - strictly speaking, a writer of poetry in the Old Norse skaldic formats (detailed in the "Skáldskaparmál" section of the Prose Edda), which are known for their rigorous syllable-counts, rules of stave-rhyme (alliteration), and frequent use of kennings (set above). In modern times, used for anyone writing Germanic poetry, especially those who use traditional stave-rhyme rather than non-Germanic end-rhyme.

skyr - a yoghurt-like Icelandic milk product. Usually served with sugar and berries as dessert, but can be drunk on its own, though if one trusts the words of Egill Skalla-Grímsson, it is much inferior to beer. The Warder of the Lore concurs.

Stave-rhyme - alliteration. Germanic poetry only very rarely used end-rhyme, and the few exceptions to this (such as Egill Skalla- Grímsson 'Höfudlausn', late 10th century) were probably influenced by foreign models.

stalli (ON) - harrow.

Sumbel - alternate form of Symbel.

Symbel - also sumbel. A rite at which toasts are drunk to god/esses, hero/ines, forebears, and whoever or whatever else is worthy of honor. Set rite.

taufr (ON) - magical talisman, esp. one with runes carved on it.

thew - Saxon English; a virtue.

Thing - Germanic judicial assembly

thurse - an elemental giant. Different sorts are mentioned, such as rimethurses (ice giants) and berg-thurses (mountain giants). In ON poetry, the terms "thurse" and "etin" are fairly interchangeable, but modern usage tries to keep them separate.

Tiw (Anglo-Saxon) - Tyr (Old Norse), *Tiwaz (ProtoGerrnanic), Tius (Gothic), Ziw/Ziu (Old High German)  
tree-stance (also called "full elhaz") - hands and head raised to draw down might from the heavens, feet spread to draw might up from the earth. The ur-shape from which both the Elder Futhark' s upward-pointing elhaz-stave (appears as "maðr" in the Younger Futhark) and the Younger Futhark's downward-pointing yr-stave sprang.

troll - smaller than etins/thurses, but of the same kin. The word is also used for any unpleasant magical wight; magic is still called "trolldom" in modem Scandinavian dialects.

Troth - Trú (ON) - honor, pledge, belief. Used specifically for the Germanic religion, to describe our relationship with the god/esses. Effectively synonymous with Asatrú/Vanatrú, with the singal advantage that it does not specify either of the godly tribes.

Týr - Tiw, Old Norse

Thonar (generic Germanic) - Þórr (Old Norse), Thunar (Anglo-Saxon), Donar (Old High German), Donner (mod. German, Wagner), *Þonaraz (Proto-Germanic), Tor (mod. Continental Scandinavian), Thor (Anglicized Norse)

UlIr - Wulþur, Old Norse

ur- - a prefix meaning "primeval, root" (mod. German). One might say that Ymir was the ur-etin and Auðumla the ur-cow, for instance.

u.s.w.	- (modem German) abbreviation of und so weiter - "and so forth".

Valhöll - Walhall, Old Norse

valknútr - walknot, Old Norse.

valkyrja - walkurja, Old Norse

Vanatrú (modern Old Norse formation) - "true to the Vanir". Used for those who are given to one or more of the Wanic god/esses and therefore choose not to call themselves Asatrú.

vé (ON) - wih-stead

vingull (ON) - phallus. esp. horse-phallus.

vitki (ON) - wizard, magician. Often used for runesters. AS witega

W- Before O or U, initial W- disappears at the transition from Primitive Norse to Old Norse (ca. 700 C.E.), so that *WoðanaR became Óðinn, Anglo-Saxon Wyrd is the same word as Old Norse Urðr, and so forth.

waelcyrige - walkurja, Anglo-Saxon.

Walhall - Valhöll (ON), Valhalla (Anglicized Norse). "Hall of the Slain".

walknot - *valknür (ON). A sign of three interlaced triangles, appearing both in a unicursal "knot" form and as three separate triangles overlapping each other. Found on the Gotlandic picture stones, an early English ring, and on the woodcarvings and tapestry of the Oseherg ship burial. The sign of those given to Wodan.

walkurja - *walkurjon (Proto-Gerrnamc), valkyrja (ON), waelcyrige (AS), valkyrie (Anglicized Norse). "Chooser of the Slain" (womanly form); compare with the Wodan-name Valkjósandi, "Chooser of the Slain".

warg - (ON vargr) - outlaw. Comes from a root meaning "restless one"; implies the unholy onadweller. Grendel's mother is called grund-wyrgen - she-warg of the depths; in the Old High German "Muspilli", the Antichrist is called a warg, that being the closest Germanic term with which the poet could translate the general idea of horror and antithesis. In old Norse, also used for the wolf as a natural animal.

Weihnachten (mod. German) - "Wih-Nights"; the Yule season.

weofed (AS) - altar; see harrow

Werþende - "becoming"; the middle Now. AS Weorþende; ON Verðandi.

wight - any sort of being. You, Wodan, and the Thing that goes Bump in your yard at night, can all be called "wights", though in "Trothspeak" the word is most often applied to beings in the class of the Thing that goes Bump (as in "What the Hel is that wight out there?") or used as a wide generalization ("all holy wights" means god/esses, ghosts, land-wights, humans, and well-meaning etins or other creatures). ON vættr

wih- "holy", as in "wilt-stead"; "Wilt-Nights", and so forth. "Holiness" in the sense that it is set apart from the usual world, as set against the usual word holy, which means the oneness of the worlds beyond with this world.

wih-smoke - recels, or incense.

wilt-stead - a holy area which is set apart from the world of daily life, usually by enclosure. Old Norse vé.

wod - poetic inspiration/fury/madness; sometimes used especially for the various sorts of inspiration rising from alcohol (as in that often-heard phrase, "The wod was really flowing at that ritual last night"). Pronounced to rhyme with "flowed".

Wodan - Óðinn(ON), *Woðanaz (ProtoGennarlic) Woden (AS), Odin (Anglicized Norse), Oden (mod. Danish/Swedish), Wotan (mod. German, Wagner), *Wodans (Gothic). see chapter.

*Woðanaz - Wodan, Proto-Gernanic

Woden - Wodan, Anglo-Saxon. Wotan - Wodan, modern German, Wagner.
Wulþur (Primitive Norse) - UlIr (ON), Wuldor (OE), Wulþus (Gothic)

wynn (AS) -joy

wyrd (AS) - fate. Also the proper name Wyrd (ON Urðr), for the eldest Norn who embodies that-which-is and thus determines that which becomes and shall be.

yare - ready, prepared, skilled (ON görr). (OE gearwe)

yeme - to care for, to look attentively upon.

Þ - thorn" (derived from the rune *thurisaz). Shows the hard "th" sound, as in "thorn", for which there was no corresponding Roman letter. Current convention places it after "z", though in older dictionaries, it may be found after "to" or in place of "th". See ð (after "d").

þáttr- a section ofa saga. Thus, to look up "Gunnars þáttr helmings", you must also know that it is located within Óláfs saga Tryggvasonar, in the version of that saga which appears in Flateyjarbók (as opposed to the one in Heimskringla)

Þing - the judgment-meeting of the Germanic peoples. The most famous and regularly held of these was the Icelandic Alþing, to which all the important folk in the land had to come to settle their cases, deem over the law, and set the year's calendar.

Þingvellir - the stead where the Icelandic Alþing was held.

Þórr- Thonar, Old Norse

ørlög (ON) - "primal layer/law"; the basic grounding which sets the shape of wyrd.

Contributors
Eric Wodening





Chapter LVIII

Book-Hoard

All groups from the level of Hearth upward should have at least a few basic
texts. The ones which are most important for beginning study are marked
with an * (just as if they were reconstructed Proto-Germanic forms...).

Note that Icelandic writers and those who have taken traditional Germanic
patronymics are listed by first name, according to Icelandic convention.

*Aswynn, Freya. Leaves of Yggdrasil. Llewellyn: P.O. Box 64383, St. Paul,
MN 55164-0383, telephone (800) THE-MOON. Runic, magical, religious, and
very fine.

Bede, the Venerable. History of the English Church and People. Penguin
paperback (see below). Our major written source on Anglo-Saxon paganism.

Byock, Jesse (tr.). Saga of the Volsungs. University of California Press,
2120 Berkeley Way, Berkeley, CA 94720, telephone (800) 822-6657. Perhaps
the greatest saga of our folk and for some reason not published by
Viking-Penguin.

Dauster, Will von (ed.). Mountain Thunder, a beautifully produced Heathen
magazine which always had excellent articles and artwork. No longer
printing, but back issues and articles can still be ordered. Get them now.
All correspondence to Mountain Thunder, 1630 30th St. #266, Boulder,
Colorado 80301.

- Asatru News Service, a small publication/newsletter, same address as
above for information/ordering.

Edred Thorsson. FUTHARK (runic practise), Runelore (runic theory), At the
Well of Wyrd (divination). All published by Samuel Weiser, Box 612, York
Beach, ME 03910. Also Northern Magic (brief synopsis), 9 Doors of Midgard
(Rune-Gild's initiatory course), and *A Book of Troth (brief outline of
Troth practise, though somewhat dated as the organization has evolved since
its publication), all from Llewellyn. Look for the upcoming *Wicca of the
True as well: a fine work which ably collects the scattered material on the
Vanic cults, though prone to excessive leaps of imaginative theory at
times.

*Ellis-Davidson, H.R. Gods and Myths of Northern Europe. Viking-Penguin,
375 Hudson St., New York, New York 10014-3657, telephone (800) 331-4624.
Basic description of the religion. All of Hilda's works are extremely
highly recommended, though you have to watch her on the smaller details
sometimes. Myths and Symbols in Pagan Europe, which discusses both Germanic
and Celtic materials, is also still in print in paperback. University of
Syracuse Press, 1600 Jamesville Ave., Syracuse, New York 13244 (800)
365-8929. Lost Beliefs of Northern Europe was just released (1993).
Routledge Inc. 29 West 35th St., New York, NY 10001.

*Gamlinginn. Orðasafn of Gamlinginn.Can be ordered through Idunna or
Mountain Thunder. Dictionary of Norse words, religious/magical terms,
place-names, persons, events - a vital work.

Grönbech, Vilhelm. Culture of the Teutons (London: Oxford University Press,
1931). Unfortunately out of print, but can be obtained at your library or
through inter-library loan. A huge and immensely detailed tome, explaining
the very roots of our ancestral thoughts and beliefs in the beautiful prose
of a scholar with true spiritual understanding.

Hagen, Ann. A Handbook of Anglo-Saxon Food: Processing and Consumption
(Anglo-Saxon Books, 25 Malpas Drive. Pinner, Middlesex, England. 1992).
This is a handy and accessible paperback reference work for those who want
to serve authentic Migration or Viking Age style feasts. You will be
surprised at the wide range of foods our forebears had!

*Hillcourt, William Bill. Official Boy Scout Handbook. This book is a must
for any person or group who plans to do any sort of outdoor ritual,
teaching both practical techniques for firestarting, camping, and so forth
and a responsible, aware attitude towards the environment and one's own
actions.

*Hollander, Lee. The Poetic Edda. University of Texas Press, P.O. Box 7819,
Austin, TX 78713-7819, telephone (512) 471-7233. Collection of the
religious poems of our ancestors, on which the Prose Edda was more or less
based. A new translation by Patricia Terry (1990) is also available, but is
just as seriously inaccurate as Hollander's and lacks the beauty of his
Germanic-poetic language. University of Pennsylvania Press, Blockley Hall,
418 Service Drive, Philadelphia, Pennsylvania 19104. (800) 445-9880.

*Kveldulf Gundarsson. Teutonic Magic. (Llewellyn) Magic, culture, religion.
A good introduction to the runes.

*Kveldulf Gundarsson. Teutonic Religion (Llewellyn, summer of 1993).
Religion, culture, rituals.

Simek, Rudolf; Angela Hall, tr. Dictionary of Northern Mythology
(Cambridge: D.S. Brewer, 1993). A brilliant reference work, the most
accessible source for reliable etymology in English, which also gives
further bibliography for most entries.

Simpson, Jacqueline (ed., tr.). Scandinavian Folktales. Viking Penguin,
Inc. 40 West 23rd St., New York, NY 10010. 1988. ISBN 0-14-059505-8.

*Snorri Sturluson; Anthony Faulkes (tr.). Edda. Everyman's Press, Charles
E. Tuttle Co, P.O. Box 410, Rutland VT 05207-0410, telephone (800)
526-2778. The Prose Edda, our basic collection of stories.

Snorri Sturluson; Erling Monsen, A.H. Smith (trs., eds). Heimskringla.
Dover Publications, Inc. 180 Varick St., New York, NY 10014.

*Turville-Petre, E.O.G. Myth and Religion of the North. $66. Basic
reference work on the subject in English. Greenwood Publishing Group, P.O.
Box 5007, Westport, Connecticut 06881, telephone (203) 226-3571.

Viking Penguin also publishes translations of the major sagas. The most
important ones are Egil's Saga, Grettir's Saga, Eyrbyggja Saga, Njal's
Saga.

I am grateful to Lavrans Reimer-Møller for his work in researching the
contact addresses/phone numbers of these publishers, his two-part article
on the subject in Mountain Thunder issues 7 and 10, and his permission for
allowing me to reproduce this small selection of his materials here. I am
also grateful to Will von Dauster, the publisher of Mountain Thunder, for
his permission for same and in general for continuing to put out a
first-rate magazine (see reference above), and to Gamlinginn for the use of
his recommended booklist and contact addresses.

Three books to avoid at all costs are: Ralph Blum's Book of Runes (and
anything else by Blum), Ed Fitch's Rites of Odin, D.J. Conway's Norse
Magic. These works are filled with gross misinformation, and have nothing
whatsoever to recommend them except that there are real nice pictures in
Rites of Odin.

The library of a Garth should include a few basic primary texts in the
original languages, plus necessary supplementary works such as
dictionaries. These are:

Bosworth, Joseph; T.Northcote Toller. An Anglo-Saxon Dictionary and An
Anglo-Saxon Dictionary: Supplement. Oxford University Press. Extremely
expensive (150 pounds for the dictionary, 95 pounds for the supplement,
which is necessary), really only for those seriously focusing on
Anglo-Saxon materials. For more casual use, get Clark Hall's Concise
Anglo-Saxon Dictionary, University of Toronto Press, 5201 Dufferin St.,
Downsview M3H5T8, Canada, ISBN 0-8020-6548-1.

Braune, Wilhelm. Althochdeutsches Lesebuch and Althochdeutsches Grammatik.
The former is a collection of all the major Old High German texts,
including some interesting charms; the latter is the grammar. You need
pretty good German to tackle these books. Max Niemeyer Verlag, Pfrondorfer
Str., Postf. 2140, D-7400 Tübingen, Germany.

Cleasby, Richard; Gudbrand Vigfusson, An Icelandic-English Dictionary. 125
pounds (about $185 at current exchange rate). If necessary, Zoega's Concise
Icelandic Dictionary (also from Oxford, 45 pounds) can be used instead,
although it is seriously inferior. C-V gives all occurences of each word,
usually with context, and makes an attempt (though not always reliable) at
etymologizing; Zoega gives only usual meanings. Oxford University Press:
2001 Evans Road, Cary, North Carolina 27513, (916) 677-0977. ISBN
0-19-863103-0.

Edda Snorra Sturlusonar (3 vols). The best available, containing much
textual material not to be found elsewhere, such as 'Skáldatal'. At 500 DM
(approx. $375), grossly expensive, but worth it, especially if your Garth
is expected to expand into a Hof within the foreseeable future. Otto
Zeller, Jahnstr. 15, Postf. 1949, D-4500 Osnabrück, Germany. ISBN
3-535-00101-3

More reasonably, Anthony Faulkes' Prologue and Gylfaginning and Hattatal
(Oxford University Press, 30 pounds each). Clear, useful editions with full
glossary and discussion. The third part of the Prose Edda, Skáldskaparmál,
is still in production and should be appearing reasonably soon. Warning: Do
Not confuse this with Faulkes' Two Versions of Snorra Edda, which is a
presentation of a very corrupt early modern manuscript and basically
useless unless one actually is a textual scholar focusing on the Prose
Edda.

Klaeber. Beowulf, 3rd ed. Contains good discussion and own glossary. D.C.
Heath and Company, 125 Spring St., Lexington, MA 02173. (617) 862-6650.
ISBN 066921212-1.

Mitchell, Bruce; Fred C. Robinson. A Guide to Old English, 5th ed. Contains
the major short poems as well as a grammar and some commentary. Blackwell
Publishers, 238 Main St., Suite 501, Cambridge, Massachusetts 02142. ISBN
0-631-16657-2

Neckel, Gustav; Hans Kühn. Die Lieder der Codex Regius, 5th ed (1983). Carl
Winter, Lutherstr. 59, Postf. 106140, D-6900, Heidelberg, Germany. ISBN
3-533-03081-4.

A glossary to this work is also available, ISBN 3-533-00559-3, but
non-German speakers will want the Beatrice La Farge/John Tucker's Glossary
to the Poetic Edda. 75 DM (approx. $50) in hardback, 48 DM in paperback.
More extensive than Neckel-Kühn, in any case. Also published by Carl
Winter, ISBN 3-533-04540-4 (paperback), 3-533-04541-2 (hardback).

Tacitus, Cornelius. Agricola, Germania, Dialogus. Loeb Classics Library
ed., facing-page translation with discussion. Harvard University Press, 79
Garden St., Cambridge, Mass 02138. (617) 495-2600. ISBN 0-674-99039-0

Valfells and Cathey, Old Icelandic: An Introductory Course.Better than
Gordon, who is pretty inferior in every way. Oxford University Press, in
association with the American-Scandinavian Foundation. The address for the
latter is P.O. Box 26305, Minneapolis, Minnesota. (612) 545-7669. British
ISBN 0-19-811173-8.

de Vries, Jan. Altnordisches etymologisches Wörterbuch. Best generally
available in a commonly-read language. There is no worthwhile etymological
dictionary of Old Norse in English,  E.J. Brill, Oude Rijn 331, NL-2312, HB
Leiden, Netherlands.

Secondary Sources

Bauschatz, Paul. The Well and the Tree (1982).The book on Wyrd and so
forth. University of Massachusetts Press, P.O. Box 429, Amherst,
Massachusetts 01004. (413) 545-2219. ISBN 0-87023-352-1.

Dumézil, Georges; Einar Haugen (tr.). Gods of the Ancient Northmen. Beware
of taking Dumézil too seriously, as his desire to prove his theories often
leads him to twist data or ignore it altogether. Nevertheless, an important
scholar with whom all serious researchers of the Northern way should be
familiar, whether you agree with him or not. University of California
Press, 2120 Berkeley Way, Berkeley, CA 94720. (800) 822-6657.

Eliade, Mircea. Rites and Symbols of Initiation (paperback, $11). Harper &
Row, Publishers, Inc., 10 East 53rd St., New York, NY, 10022. ISBN
0-06-131236-3.

Flowers, Stephen. Sigurdhr: Rebirth and Initiation. Dr. Flowers' M.A.
thesis, a major work on Germanic soul/rebirth concepts. Can be ordered
through the Troth or the Rune-Gild.

Grahm-Campbell, James. The Viking World. Windward (under W.H. Smith & Son,
Ltd.), St. John's House, East Street, Leicester LE1 6NE. ISBN
0-7112-0571-X. Probably has an American printing as well.

Grimm, Jacob; James Stallybrass (tr.) Teutonic Mythology (4 vols). Peter
Smith Publishing, 5 Lexington Ave., Magnolia, MA 01930, (508) 525-3562.
Unfortunately, for reasons unknown to gods or humans, the publisher sold
out of volume IV first. 1-3 are still worth having, but keep a keen eye out
in used bookstores for number 4. The Dover paperback ed. is out of print.
This is the book for folklore and general correlations between folklore &
myth. Many of Grimm's interpretations are way out of date, but this
collection is massively full of material that you just won't find
elsewhere.

Jónas Kristjánsson; Peter Foote (tr.). Eddas and Sagas. Reykjavík: Hið
íslenska bókmenntafélag, 1988. This book discusses the origins and dating
of the Eddas and Sagas, in general and in particular, and the process of
their development. An important reference.

Jones, Gwyn. A History of the Vikings. Oxford University Press.

Nýlen, Erik; Jan-Peder Lamm. Stones, Ships, and Symbols. Basic commentary
and photos of the major Gotlandic picture stones (see ref. to Gotlands
Bildsteine below). Gidlunds Bokforläg, Karlsviksgt. 16, Box 12016, S-112 41
Stockholm. ISBN 91-7844-116-1.

Ström, Åke; Haralds Biezais. Germanische und Baltische Religion. Verlag W.
Kohlhammer. Heßbrühl Str. 69, Postf. 800430, D-7000, Stuttgart 80, Germany.
ISBN 3-17-001157-X.

Steinsland, Gro. Det hellige Bryllup og norrøn kongeideologi.
Dano-Norwegian. Solum Forlag, Åsun 5, N-1324, Lysaker, Norway. ISBN
82-560-0764-8. Also, Words and Objects, in English, distributed worldwide
by Oxford University Press. ISBN 82-00-007751-9.

de Vries, Jan. Altgermanische Religionsgeschichte (2 vols). Best overall
view of the religion. Walter deGruyter, Gerthiner Str. 13, 1 Postf. 110240,
D-1000 Berlin 30. Be apprised that Walter deGruyter also has a branch in
America, which may be easier to contact (ask at your local bookstore).

Wilson, David. Anglo-Saxon Paganism (1992). Routledge: 29 West 35th Street,
New York, NY 10001. A really brilliant collection, mostly of archaeological
evidence, which tries to present Anglo-Saxon Heathendom without relying too
heavily on an Old Norse interpretation.

Finally, at Garth level, you should be thinking about collecting Old Norse
editions of the sagas in addition to your extensive Penguin collection of
translations. The recommended eds are published by Hið íslenzka
fornritafélag as the "Íslenzk fornrit" series. These books are available
through Schoenhof's Foreign Books, Inc., 76A Mount Auburn St., Cambridge,
MA 02138, U.S.A. They can also be ordered from Eymundsson, Austurstræti 18,
Reykjavík, Iceland. The most important ones for our purposes are #4,
Eyrbyggja saga (contains much religious and spooky material), #1,
Landnámabók, and the first volume of Heimskringla which contains Ynglinga
saga. From reading in translation, you should already have a pretty good
idea of which others are most important to your garth.

Out of Print

Sadly, some of the books your Garth is likely to need are no longer in
print. Life is tough...If you don't have good book-search opportunities,
order them through inter-library loan, remembering that photocopying of
whole books is illegal even if they are out of print and doing so will not
rip off either the publisher or the author - and don't do anything Óðinn
wouldn't do.

Corpus Poeticum Boreale (eds. Vigfusson & Powell). Collection of skaldic
poetry. The edition and translation are less than the best, but the
translation is into English. The favourite collection is Finnur Jónsson's
Den Norsk-islandske skjaldedigtning (4 vols), which is the standard edition
used by all scholars, with both semi-diplomatic and normalized texts, and
good translations - into Danish. The 1973 photographic reprint from
Rosenkilde & Bagger may possibly still be in print. Rosenkilde & Bagger,
Kronprinseng. 3, POB 2184, DK 1017, København.

Branston, Brian. Gods of the North (London: Thames & Hudson, 1955). A
far-reaching, though rather over-imaginative, discussion of Norse
mythology.

Ellis, H.R. The Road to Hel (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1943;
rep. Greenwood Press, 1977). Major work on Germanic afterlife concepts.

Finnur Jónsson. Lexicon Poeticum (Copenhagen: Atlas Bogtryck, 1966).
Glossary of poetic Old Norse, with all occurrences of every word, including
names. In Danish.

Flowers, Stephen. Runes and Magic. Flowers' Ph.D. thesis, probably the best
work ever written by him. The Peter Lang Publishing, Inc. 1986 edition is
out of print, but the original thesis is currently available from
University Microfilms ($55 soft-bound, $66.50 hard-bound: 300 Zeeb Rd., Ann
Arbor, MI 48106 1346 (1-800-521-3042). May be republished by Runa-Raven
Press within the next couple of years.

Helm, Karl. Altgermanische Religionsgeschichte (Carl Winters
Universitätsbuchhandlung: Heidelberg, 1953). Slightly dated, but
respectable. Particularly useful in that it separates the religons of
Germanic peoples by their three main branches (North, East, and West).

Lindqvist, Sune. Gotlands Bildsteine (Uppsala: Almqvists & Wicksells
Bogtryckerei, 1941) 2 vol. collection of pictures and extensive commentary
on the picture-stones of Gotland, one of our major sources on Viking Age
religion. The grown-up version of Stones, Ships, and Symbols.

Meissner, Rudolf. Die Kenningar der Skalden (Bonn: Kurt Schroeder, 1921). A
collection and categorization of all skaldic kennings, with commentary.

Musset, Lucien; Edward and Columba James, trs. The Germanic Invasions: The
Making of Europe, AD 400-600 (University Park: 1975) Basic text on
Migration Age history.

Owen, Gale R. Rites and Religions of the Anglo-Saxons (Dorset Press, 1985)
Not overwhelmingly wonderful, but does collect all the major evidence in a
single place.

Philpotts, Bertha S. The Elder Edda and Ancient Scandinavian Drama
(Cambridge: University Press, 1920). An excellent reference work on the
possible use of Eddic poems as bases for holy folk-dramas. Some of her
examples are less convincing than others in regards to historical usage,
but the whole provides a good guide for modern practise.

Saxo Grammaticus. History of the Danes (Gesta Danorum, also called The
Danish History of Saxo Grammaticus). Several translations have been made
into English, none of which is outstandingly better than the others; Oliver
Elton's 1894 (London: David Nutt) is as good as any. Long-winded and often
heavily christian, but contains a great deal of material which cannot be
found elsewhere, as well as important variants on Eddic myths.

Storms, Dr. G. Anglo-Saxon Magic (The Hague: Martinus Nijhoff, 1948).
Complete texts of charm spells, facing-page translation, extensive
discussion.

Ström, Folke. Diser, Nornor, Valkyrior: Fruktbarhetskult och sakralt
Kungadöme i Norden (Stockholm: Almqvist & Wiksell, 1954). In Swedish.
Female wights and fertility cults. Some strange ideas, but really useful
and interesting.

Strömbäck, Dag. Sejd (Lund: Carl Bloms Bogtrykkerei, 1935). The major work
on Seiðr. Swedish. As you might expect.

At the same time, it is also time for you to begin collecting articles from
periodicals. None of us can yet afford to buy whole collections. However,
it is legal to copy no more than 1 article from any given issue - see above
caution.

A few of the major periodicals to look out for are:

Folklore

Saga-Book of the Viking Society

Fornvännen (archaeological, much religious material, often with English
articles as well as Scandinavian)

FFC (Folklore Fellowship Communications)

Frühmittelalterliche Studien

Scandinavian Studies.

Viking (be warned - most articles in Scandinavian languages, though often
with English summaries)

Our Troth Book-Hoard

Those books which are only listed by writer and title here have full
bibliography given in one of the lists above.

This is not a reading-list, so do not be daunted. This is a list of all the
works that are referred to in this book, for those who have a need to check
references or do further research in a particular area. Those who do not
have such needs may safely ignore this list.

Articles from Mountain Thunder and Idunna which have been substantially
used, in whole and in part, in this book, are not listed here, as full
references are given in the chapters in which they appear.

Ahlbäck, Tore (ed.). Old Norse and Finnish Religions and Cultic Place-Names
(Åbo: Donner Institute for Research in Religious and Cultural History,
1987).

Alice Karlsdóttir. "Njörðr and Skaði: The Marriage of Light and Darkness".
Mountain Thunder 7, Yule 1992.

Almgren, Bertil. The Viking (New York: Crescent Books, 1975).

Andersson, Aron; Ingmar Jansson. Treasures of Early Sweden (Uppsala:
Almqvist & Wiksell, 1984).

Asatru Free Church Committee, "The Nature of Odin", in The Religion of
Odin.

Aswynn, Freya. Leaves of Yggdrasil.

Árni Björnsson. Jól á Íslandi (Reykjavík: Ísafoldarprentsmiðja, 1963).

Ásgeirr Blondal Magnusson. Íslensk Orðsifjabók (Reykjavík: Orðabók
Háskolans, 1989).

Baetke, Walter. Das Heilige im Germanischen (Tübingen: Verlag von J.C.B.
Mohr, 1942).

Barber, Paul. Vampires, Burial, and Death: Folklore and Reality (New Haven:
Yale University Press, 1988).

Barthi Guthmundsson; Lee Hollander, tr. The Origin of the Icelanders
(Lincoln: University of Nebraska Press, 1967).

Bauschatz, Paul. The Well and the Tree.

Bede, Ecclesiastical History of the English People.

Benoit, F. "Mars et Mercure". Publication des Annales de la Faculté des
Lettres Aix-en-Provence 26 (1959), 5-199.

Bibire, Paul, in Sagaskemmtun: Studies in Honour of Hermann Pálsson, ed. R.
Simek, Jónas Kristjánsson, & Hans Bekker-Nielsen (Vienna: Herman Böhlaus,
1986), pp. 19-40).

Blubok, Shirley. The Art of the Vikings (New York: Macmillan, 1978).

Bosley, Keith (tr.). The Kalevala (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1991).

Brady, Caroline. The Legends of Ermanarik (Berkeley: University of
California Press, 1943).

Braune, Wilhelm. Althochdeutsches Grammatik.

- Althochdeutsches Lesebuch.

Branston, Brian. Gods of the North.

- Lost Gods of England (London: Thames & Hudson, 1957).

Brody, Alan. The English Mummers and their Plays: Traces of Ancient Mystery
(Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press, 1970).

Bruce-Mitford, Rupert; Angela Care-Evans, ed. The Sutton Hoo Ship-Burial, 3
vols. in 4 (London: British Museum Publications, Inc., 1975-83).

Bruder, Reinhold. Die germanische Frau im Lichte der Runeninschriften und
der antiken Historiographie (Berlin: Walter de Gruyter, 1974).

Buckley, Thomas; Alma Gottlieb (eds.). Blood Magic: The Anthropology of
Menstruation (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1988).

Budge, E.A. Wallace. The Gods of the Egyptians, I. (New York: Dover Press,
1969).

Burns, Thomas. A History of the Ostrogoths (Bloomington: Indiana University
Press, 1984).

Cæsar, Julius; S.A. Handford, tr. The Conquest of Gaul (Penguin Books,
1982).

Chambers, R.W., Beowulf.

Chadwick, H.M., The Cult of Othin (London, 1899).

Chisholm, James. "Art in the Hearth", Idunna, August 1991, pp. 23-25.

- (tr., ed.). Grove and Gallows (Austin: Rune-Gild, 1987).

Christian, Roy. Country Life Book of Old English Customs (London: Country
Life, Ltd., 1966).

Christiansen, Arne Emil; Anne Stine Ingstad, Bjørn Myhre.
Oseberg-dronningens grav (Oslo: Chr. Schibsteds Forlag, 1992). Note - in
Norwegian, but great pictures of all the woodcarvings from the Oseberg
grave, useful to anyone interested in Viking Age art and especially
woodcarving, whether they read Norwegian or not.

Christiansen, Reidar Th. "The Dead and the Living", Studia Norvegica 2
(1946), pp. 3-96.

Coles, J.M.; A.F. Harding. The Bronze Age in Europe(New York: St. Martin's
Press, 1979).

Conquergood, Dwight. "Boasting in Anglo-Saxon England, Performance, and the
Heroic Ethos". Literature and Performance, vol. I, April 1991, pp. 24-35.

- "Performance in Anglo-Saxon Pre-christian England", Text and Performance
Quarterly.

Cunningham, Scott. Magical Herbalism (St. Paul: Llewellyn, 1982).

Damico, Helen. Beowulf's Wealtheow and the Valkyrie Tradition (Madison: the
University of Wisconsin Press, 1984).

Damm, Annette (ed.) Danish Prehistory at Moesgård (Århus: Kannike Tryk,
1988).

Daniélou, Alain. - The Gods of India (New York: Inner Traditions
International, 1985)

- The Myths and Gods of India (Rochester: Inner Traditions International,
1991).

Dauster, Will von. "How Can You Believe That Junk? An Essay for the Modern
Pagan". Mountain Thunder #4, Spring Equinox 1992.

Davidson, H.R. Ellis. Gods and Myths of Northern Europe

-The Lost Beliefs of Northern Europe.

- Myth and Symbol in Pagan Europe

- Pagan Scandinavia (New York: Praeger, 1967)

Drake-Carnell, Old English Customs and Ceremonies (London: B.T. Batsford,
Ltd., 1938).

Dumézil, Georges. Gods of the Ancient Northmen.

- Mitra-Varuna: An Essay on Two Indo-European Representations of Soverignty
(New York: Zone Books, 1988).

Edred Thorsson. - A Book of Troth.

- FUTHARK.

- Runelore.

- "A Short History of the Revival of the Troth", Idunna II, iv, July 1990,
pp. 1-8.

Magnús Einarsson. Icelandic-Canadian Memory Lore (Quebec: Canadian Museum
of Civilization, 1992).

Eliade, Mircea. Rites and Symbols of Initiation.

Ellis, H.R. (HRED before her marriage). The Road to Hel.

Erikson, Bo G.; Carl O. Löfman. A Scandinavian Saga (Stockholm: Natur och
Kultur, 1988).

Farmer, David Hugh. The Oxford Dictionary of Saints (Oxford: Clarendon
Press, 1978).

Feilberg, H.F., Jul, 2 vols. (København: Rosenkilde og Bagger, 1962).

Finnur Jónsson, Den norsk-islandske Skjaldedigtning.

Flateyjarbók, 3 vols (Christiana: P.T. Malling, 1862).

Fleck, Jere. Unpublished notes for class in "The Viking Era". College Park,
MD; transcribed by Helgi Dagsson.

Flowers, Stephen E. Runes and Magic.

- Sigurðr: Rebirth and Initiation

Foote, P.G., and D.M. Wilson. The Viking Achievement, revised ed. w/
supplement (London: Sidgwick & Jackson, 1980).

Fossenius, Mai. Majgren, Majträd, Majstång (Lund: C.W.K. Gleerup, 1951).

Gamlinginn, "Týrian Spirituality", Mountain Thunder #10, Autumnal Equinox
1993.

Gelling, Peter, and Ellis-Davidson, H.R. The Chariot of the Sun and other
Rites and Symbols of the Northern Bronze Age (New York: Praeger, 1969).

Gløb, P.V. The Bog People.

- The Mound People.

Geary, Patrick J. Before France and Germany: The Creation & Transformation
of the Merovingian World (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1988).

Gloseki, Stephen. Shamanism and Old English Poetry (New York: Garland
Publishing, 1989).

Goffart, Walter. Barbarians and Romans, A.D. 418-584 (Princeton: University
Press, 1980).

Graham-Campbell, James. The Viking World (New York: Ticknor & Fields,
1980).

Green, Miranda. Gods of the Celts (Phoenix Mill: Alan Sutton Publishing
Ltd., 1986, rep. 1993).

- The Sun-Gods of Ancient Europe (London: B.T. Batsford Ltd., 1991).

Grieves, Mrs. M. A Modern Herbal, 2 vols. (New York: Cover, 1971).

Grimm, Jakob. Teutonic Mythology, 4 vols.

Grundy, Stephan. The Cult of Óðinn: God of Death? Ph.D. thesis in progress.

- "Frigg and Freyja". First International Goddess Conference, ed. by H.R.
Ellis-Davidson. Forthcoming from Routledge in 1994-95 (note: title of the
published book is still subject to change at the moment).

- Rhinegold (fiction; Bantam [US], Michael Joseph [UK], 1994)

Guerber, H.A. Myths of Northern Lands (New York: American Book Co., 1923).

Gurevich, Aaron. Historical Anthropology of the Middle Ages, ed. by Jana
Howlett (Cambridge: Polity Press, 1992).

Gyori, John. "Viking Art", Idunna V, iii, 20, Holymonth 1993 C.E., pp.
31-34.

Hastrup, Kirsten. Culture and History in Mediæval Iceland (Oxford:
Clarendon Press, 1985).

Hauck, Karl. "Frühmittelalterliche Bildüberlieferung und der organisierte
Kult", Der historische Horizont der Götterbild-Amulette aus der
Übergangepoche von der Spätantike zum Frühmittelalter, ed. by Karl Hauck
(Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1992), pp. 433-574.

- "Fünens besonderer Anteil an den Bildinhalten der
völkerwanderungszeitlichen Brakteaten", Frühmittelalterliche Studien 26
(1992), pp. 106-148.

- Die Goldbrakteaten der Völkerwanderungszeit, 7 vols. (Munich: Wilhelm
Fink Verlag, 1985-89).

Hauglid, Roar. Norwegian Stave Churches (Oslo: Dreyers Forlag, 1990).

Helm, Karl. Altgermanische Religionsgeschichte, 2 vols. (Heidelberg: Carl
Winters Universitätsbuchhandlung, 1937).

Höfler, O. Der germanische Totenkult und sagen von Wilden Heer.
Oberdeutsche Zeitschrift für Volkskunde, 10 (1933-49).

- Germanisches Sakralkönigtum, Band I: Der Runenstein von Rök und die
Germanische Individualweihe (Tübingen: Max Niemeyer Verlag, 1952)

- Kultischer Geheimbände der Germanen (Frankfurt: 1934).

- Verwandlungskulte, Volkssagen, und Mythen (Vienna: Österreichische
Akademie der Wissenschaften, 1973).

Holan, Jerri. Norwegian Wood: A Tradition of Building (New York: Rizzoli
International Publishers, Inc., 1990).

Jahn, Dr. Ulrich. Die Deutschen Opfergebräuche bei Ackerbau und Viehzucht
(Breslau: Wilhelm Koebner, 1884).

Jensen, Jørgen; Elisabeth Munksgaard, Thorkild Ramskou. Prehistoric Denmark
(Copenhagen: National Museum, 1978).

Jensenius, Jørgen. Lomen Stavkirke: en matematisk Analyse. Riksantikvarians
Skrifter nr. 5 (Bergen: Alvheim & Eide, 1988).

Jessen, E.J. Afhandling om de norske Finners og Lappers hedenske Religion
(pub. 1767).

Jochens, Jenny. "Before the Male Gaze: The Absence of the Female Body in
Old Norse". Pre-Prints for The Eighth International Saga Conference: The
Audience of the Sagas (1991), vol. 1, pp. 247-256.

Johansson, Warren. "Shamanism", in Wayne R. Dynes, ed., The Encyclopedia of
Homosexuality (New York: Garland Publishing, 1990), pp. 1191-93.

Jón Hnefill Aðalsteinsson. "Folklore in the Icelandic Sagas and the Blót of
Guðrún Ósvífrsdóttir". Pre-Prints for The Eighth International Saga
Conference: The Audience of the Sagas (1991), vol. 1, pp. 257-266.

- Under the Cloak (Uppsala: Acta Universitatis Upsalensis, 1978).

Jónas Kristjánsson. Eddas and Sagas.

Jones, Gwyn. A History of the Vikings.

Kalevala (Helsinki: Werner Söderström Osakeyhtiö, 1992).

Keese, Carol Patricia.

Kerenyi, C. The Gods of the Greeks (New York: Thames & Hudson, 1951).

Kipling, Rudyard. The Complete Verse (London: Kyle Cathie Ltd., 1990).

Kjærum, Paul; Rikke Agnete Olsen (eds.). Oldtidens Ansigt (Poul Kristensens
Forlag, 1990).

Konya, Allan. Finnish Sauna (London: Architectural Press, 1987).

Kratz, Henry. "Was Vamoþ Still Alive?" Mediæval Scandinavia 11 (1978-79),
pp. 9-29.

Kuhn, Hans; Gustav Neckel (eds). Edda, 3rd ed. (1962)

Kveldulf Gundarsson. Teutonic Magic.

- Teutonic Religion.

Kvideland, Reimund; Henning K. Sehnsdorf (eds.). Scandinavian Folk Belief
and Legend (Oslo: Norwegian University Press, 1991).

Lid, Nils. "Light-Mother and Earth-Mother", Studia Norvegica 4 (1946), pp.
3-20.

Liman, Ingemar. Traditional Festivities in Sweden (Stockholm: Swedish
Institute, 1993).

Lindqvist, Sune. Gotlands Bildsteine.

Lindow, John. "Addressing Thor", Scandinavian Studies 60 (1988).

Littleton, C.S. "The 'Kingship in Heaven' Theme" in Myth and Law Among the
Indo-Europeans (ed.) J. Puhvel (Berkeley: University of California Press,
1970).

Liungman, Waldemar. Traditionswanderungen Euphrat-Rhein, part II. FFC 119
(1938).

Logan, Donald F. The Vikings in History, 2nd ed. (London:
HarperCollinsAcademic, 1991).

Lönnrot, Elias (ed.); Keith Bosley (ed., tr.). The Kantelar (Oxford: Oxford
University Press, 1992).

Lund, Cajsa S. Fornordiska klanger (Musica Sveciae, 1991) - CD and
explanatory book.

McNallen, Stephen A., Rituals of Asatru, vol. 1 (Payson: World Tree
Publications).

Martin, John Stanley. Ragnarök: An Investigation into Old Norse Concepts of
the Fate of the Gods. (1972).

Marwick, Ernest W. The Folklore of Orkney and Shetland (Totowa: Rowman and
Littlefield, 1975).

Meaney, A.L. Anglo-Saxon Amulets and Curing Stones, British Archaeological
Reports, British Series 96 (1981).

Meisen, Karl, ed. Die sagen von wütenden Heer und wilden Jäger (Münster:
Aschendorffsche Verlagsbuchhandlung, 1935).

Meissner, Rudolf. Die Kenningar der Skalden.

Mitchell, Bruce; Fred C. Robinson. A Guide to Old English, 5th ed.

Moltke, Erik. Runes and their Origins: Denmark and Elsewhere.

Morris, Katherine. Sorceress or Witch? The Image of Gender in mediæval
Iceland and modern Europe (1991).

Musset, Lucien. The Germanic Invasions.

Newall, Venetia. An Egg at Easter (Bloomington: Indiana University Press,
1971).

Nýlen, Erik; Jan-Peder Lamm. Stones, Ships, and Symbols.

Olrik, Axel; Hans Ellekilde. Nordens Gudeverden (G.E.C. Gad, København
1926).

Olsen, Magnus (ed). Völsunga saga ok Ragnars saga Loðbrókar (København:
S.L. Møller, 1906-08).

Owen, Gale R. Rites and Religions of the Anglo-Saxons.

Owen-Crocker, Gale R. Dress in Anglo-Saxon England (Manchester: Manchester
University Press, 1986).

Page, R.I. "Dumézil Revisited". Saga-Book of the Viking Society XX
(1978-81), pp. 49-69.

Paxson, Diana L. Brisingamen (New York: Berkeley Books, 1984)

- Dragons of the Rhine (fiction; forthcoming - second book in the "Wodan's
Children" trilogy, which began with The Wolf and the Raven)

- The Wolf and the Raven (fiction. New York: William Morrow and Company,
Inc. 1993)

Philpotts, Bertha S. The Elder Edda and Ancient Scandinavian Drama.

Pennick, Nigel. Games of the Gods (Samuel Weiser, Inc., 1989).

- Practical Magic in the Northern Tradition

Polomé, Edgar C. Essays on Germanic Religion (Washington: Institute for the
Study of Man, 1989).

- ed., Old Norse Literature and Mythology (Austin: University of Texas,
1969).

Ranke, Kurt. Indogermanische Totenverehrung, Bd. 1, FFC 140 (1951).

Ransome, Hilda M. The Sacred Bee in Ancient Times and Folklore (Bee Books
New & Old: orig. 1937, rep. 1986).

Roesdahl, Else. Vikingernes Verden, 3rd ed. (København: Gyldendal, 1991).

- The Vikings (London: Penguin, 1991).

Rooth, Anna Birgitta. Loki in Scandinavian Mythology (Lund. C.W.K. Gleerup,
1961).

Rudwin, Maxmilian J. The Origin of the German Carnival Comedy (New York:
G.E. Stechert & Co., 1920)

Saue, Solfrid Rørlien; Arthur Gude (tr.). Norwegian Cooking (Oslo: Norske
Samlaget, 1987).

Saxo Grammaticus, The Danish History, tr. Oliver Elton (Norroena Society,
1905).

Sawyer, P.H. Kings and Vikings: Scandinavia and Europe A.D. 700-1100.
(London/New York: Methuen, 1982).

Schutz, Herbert. The Prehistory of Germanic Europe (New Haven/London: Yale
University Press, 1983).

Schwartz, Stephen P. Poetry and Law in Germanic Myth (Berkeley: University
of California Press, 1973).

Schröder, Franz Rolf. Skadi und die Götter Skandinaviens (Tübingen: J.C.B.
Mohr, 1941).

Simek, Rudolf. Dictionary of Northern Mythology.

Simpson, Jacqueline. Scandinavian Folktales.

Snorri Sturluson, Edda Snorra Sturlusonar

- Heimskringla

Solheim, Svale. "Gardvoren og senga hans". Norveg 16 (1973), pp. 55-70.

Spicer, Dorothy Gladys. The Yearbook of English Festivals (New York: H.W.
Wilson & Co., 1954)

Stead, Lewis, and the Raven Kindred. The Raven Kindred Ritual Book
(Wheaton: The Raven Kindred, 1993)

Steinsland, Gro. Det hellige bryllup og norrøn kongeideologie (Oslo: Solum
Forlag, 1991)

Steinsland, Gro (ed). Words and Objects: Towards a Dialogue Between
Archæology and the History of Religion (Oslo: Norwegian University Press,
1986).

Storms, G. Anglo-Saxon Magic.

Ström, Åke V.; Haralds Biezais. Germanische und Baltische Religion
(Stuttgart: Verlag W. Kohlhammer, 1975).

Ström, Folke. Diser, Nornor, Valkyrjor.

- Níð, Ergi, and Old Norse Moral Attitudes. Dorothea Coke Memorial Lecture,
Viking Society for Northern Research, 1973 (Edinburgh: T.A. Constable,
1974).

- On the Sacral Origin of the Germanic Death Penalties (Stockholm:
Wahlström & Widstrand, 1942).

Tacitus, Cornelius, tr. H. Mattingly. Germania (Penguin Books, 1970). Also
used Loeb Classical Library edition (M. Hutton & E.H. Warmington. London:
William Heinemann Ltd., 1980).

Tacitus, Cornelius, tr. C.H. Moord & J. Jackson. Annals. Loeb Classical
Library ed. (London: William Heinemann Ltd., 1979).

Taylor, Timothy. "The Gundestrup Cauldron", Scientific American 266/3
(March 1992), pp. 84-89).

"The Mission of Odinism", taken from At the Sacred Source of Teutonic
Strength, reprinted in The Religion of Odin.

Thompson, E.A. The Visigoths in the Time of Ulfilas (Oxford: 1966).

Todd, Malcolm. The Northern Barbarians, revised ed. (Oxford: Basil
Blackwell Ltd., 1987).

Tolkien, J.R.R. (ed., tr.), Joan Turville-Petre (ed). Exodus: Text,
Translation, and Commentary (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1981).

- "The Monsters and the Critics".

Troelsen, Bjarne. Nordisk Bondereligion (Viborg: Nørhaven, 1987).

Trykare, Tre. The Vikings (New York: Crescent Publishers, 1972).

Turville-Petre, G. ed., Hervarar saga ok Heiðreks, 2nd ed. (London: Viking
Society for Northern Research, 1976)

- Myth and Religion of the North.

Unwerth, Wolf von. Untersuchen über Totenkult und Ódinnverehrung bei
Nordgermanen und Lappen (Breslau: M. & H. Marcus, 1911).

de Vries, Jan. Altgermanische Religionsgeschichte, 2 vols.

- Altnordisches etymologisches Wörterbuch.

- Contributions to the Study of Othin, Especially in his Relation to
Agricultural Practices in Modern Popular Lore. FFC 94 (1931), pp. 3-79.

- The Problem of Loki. FFC 110 (1933).

- "Wodan und die Wilde Jagd". Nachbarn, 1962.

Wallace-Hadrill, J.M. The Barbarian West, 400-1100, fourth ed. (Oxford:
Basil Blackwell, Ltd., 1985, 1990).

Whistler, Laurence. The English Festivals (London: Wm. Heinemann, Inc.,
1947).

Williams, Walter. The Spirit and the Flesh: Sexual Diversity in American
Indian Culture (Boston: Beacon Press, 1986).

Wilson, David. Anglo-Saxon Paganism.

Wilson, David M. (ed.) The Archaeology of Anglo-Saxon England (Cambridge:
University Press, 1981).

Wilson, David M. The Northern World (New York: Harry N. Abrams, Inc.,
1980).

Wolfram, Herwig. History of the Goths (Berkeley: University of California
Press, 1990).

Þórunn Björnsdóttir, ed. Hvað er svo glatt (Reykjavík: Tónlistarbandalag
Íslands, 1991)