Iron Age Myth and Materiality

An Archaeology of Scandinavia AD 400-1000

Lotte Hedeager

• Publisher: Routledge
• Year: 2011
• Print ISBN: 9780415606028
• eBook ISBN: 9781136817250
• Edition: 1
• Topic: Sozialwissenschaften
• Subtopic: Archäologie

Iron Age Myth and Materiality: an Archaeology of Scandinavia AD 400-1000 considers the relationship between myth and materiality in Scandinavia from the beginning of the post-Roman era and the European Migrations up until the coming of Christianity. It pursues an interdisciplinary interpretation of text and material culture and examines how the documentation of an oral past relates to its material embodiment.

While the material evidence is from the Iron Age, most Old Norse texts were written down in the thirteenth century or even later. With a time lag of 300 to 900 years from the archaeological evidence, the textual material has until recently been ruled out as a usable source for any study of the pagan past. However, Hedeager argues that this is true regarding any study of a society's short-term history, but it should not be the crucial requirement for defining the sources relevant for studying long-term structures of the longue durée, or their potential contributions to a theoretical understanding of cultural changes and transformation. In Iron Age Scandinavia we are dealing with persistent and slow-changing structures of worldviews and ideologies over a wavelength of nearly a millennium. Furthermore, iconography can often date the arrival of new mythical themes anchoring written narratives in a much older archaeological context.

Old Norse myths are explored with particular attention to one of the central mythical narratives of the Old Norse canon, the mythic cycle of Odin, king of the Norse pantheon. In addition, contemporaneous historical sources from late Antiquity and the early European Middle Age - the narratives of Jordanes, Gregory of Tours, and Paul the Deacon in particular - will be explored. No other study provides such a broad ranging and authoritative study of the relationship of myth to the archaeology of Scandinavia.

PART I

A mythical narrative

1

THE MYTHIC CYCLE OF ODIN

The myth

Odin is best known in the context of Scandinavian mythology, although he is an old god who figures in the mythologies of other northern peoples as Woden, Wodan, Wotan or Woutan (North 1997). He has a priestly as well as a martial role, and he served as the patron of aristocrats, warriors and poets (Byock 2005: xviii). In Old Norse mythology, Odin appears as the head of the pantheon and as the king of the Asir gods (Nordberg 2003). His nature is particularly complicated and contradictory, and he is the most ambiguous in character and attributes of all the Nordic gods. His name derives from a word that would mean something like ‘leader of the possessed’. In Old Norse the word o∂r meant both ‘poetry’ and ‘frenzy’ (Lindow 2001: 250), and Odin is the furious ecstasy-god as well as the lord of inspiration and magic. He takes different names in virtually all the myths and more than 156 alternate names for him are known (listed in Orchard 2002: Appendix A), including All-Father, the High One and Val-Father, which means ‘Father of the Slain’ (Byock 2005: xviii). More than anything, however, he is the great sorcerer who uses his ‘wisdom’ to place himself atop the hierarchy of all living creatures (Lindow 2001: 250). In all, nine magical acts are ascribed to him. Among these are the following: he can appear in whatever shape he chooses – man, woman or animal; he commands the magic of the weather; with words he can extinguish fire, calm the seas and turn the winds; he can communicate with the dead; he possesses oral magic, galdrar (spells and chants) (Simek 1996: 97 f.) and the magic of writing – the runes (Ynglinga Saga chs 6–7). Through self-sacrifice and self-inflicted torture he attained the highest power, that is, made himself the master of runic magic. He sacrificed himself by spearing himself and by hanging in the World Tree (Yggdrasil), the holy tree, for nine stormy days and nights and through this suffering won magic, the art of runes, and powerful spells – that is, wisdom and knowledge. With help from runic letters he could force hanged men's tongues to talk – that is, he could talk with the dead (Hávamál stanzas 138–40). Seen through the lens of myth runic, letters become something other than a primitive alphabet, as has been emphasised by many scholars (see Nielsen 1985 with refs). In addition, every rune had a particular name and could represent this particular concept on its own. The runes probably also had a specific numerical value which may have furnished the inscriptions with a further hidden layer (Simek 1996: 268). Runic letters could be used in black magic, and Odin is the god of runic knowledge as well as runic magic. The runic letters are the key to his feared power. The word ‘rún/rúnar’ thus means secret knowledge, or ‘the knowledge of writing in verse’ – and this means wisdom (Dumézil 1969: 52). Odin also plays a central role in the acquisition of the mead of poetry (wisdom, inspiration, skaldic poetry). Two stories are told: one in which Odin acquired the mead through shape changing, seduction, or rape of a daughter of the giant Suttungr, and subsequent theft, and the other where he achieved his particular wisdom by offering his one eye to the giant Mimir, from whose well he acquired the mead of knowledge as well as the runic letters.

Furthermore, two ravens belonged to Odin, named Hugin and Munin, which means ‘Thought’ and ‘Mind/Memory’, as a personification of Odin's intellectual and mental capacity. He had two wolves as well, and the eight-legged steed Sleipnir, who was used for trips to the realm of the dead. Gungnir (‘swaying one’) is mentioned as Odin's spear, probably the one by which Odin wounded himself while hanging in the World Tree, dedicating himself to himself. Odin is described as ‘Gungnir's shaker’ (Orchard 2002), and he uses the spear on the battlefield to throw it over an opposing army. The spear is also used for pointing out the heroes he wants for his hird in Valhal (i.e. a sign of death). At Ragnarok, the battle on the Last Day when the gods and the mythological present end, this particular spear will be crucial to the outcome. Odin is called by skalds the lord and god of the spear. Gungnir, together with Draupnir (‘Dripper’), a fabulous golden ring from which eight equally heavy rings drip every ninth night, are decisive attributes for Odin's ability to uphold his power and position as king of the Asir. Like all other crucial attributes of the gods, these are manufactured by dwarfs who live underground.

This description of Odin may of course be conceived of as a purely literary fantasy, composed by Scandinavian narrators in early Christian times, that is, early in the thirteenth century AD. Alternatively, these stories may be seen as reflecting central myths of the pagan Nordic universe in the Viking Age and even centuries well before that, although transmitted with certain revisions and refashioning in a Christian context. Certainly, the versions of the myths vary widely and may not even reflect a coherent and uniform Nordic system of belief and religious practice held by social groups all over Scandinavia (Schier 1981; Schjødt 2004; Andrén et al. 2006: 13). If the myths have been changed in oral transmission through the centuries, such inconsistencies are, however, in the nature of mythology (in the sense of narratives). Whatever the original dates and origins of the Eddic poems, the pictures of the gods they give are fairly consistent (Lindow 2001: 14).

If the literary fantasy interpretation is accepted, we have to reject all written evidence from the North, which is the bulk of Old Norse literature. Consequently, we would be left to study the Scandinavian Late Iron Age entirely from the material evidence. True enough, this has been the case for almost all Scandinavian archaeology as a discipline since the Second World War. From the 1990s onwards, however, the post-processual and contextual approach has, to a certain degree, changed this intra-disciplinary attitude towards the field of history of Old Norse religion and literature. An integrated and interdisciplinary approach has appeared, and for that reason the archaeological evidence from the Late Iron Age has to some degree now become integrated into a historical perspective – or vice versa – the Old Norse sources are integrated into a material perspective (Andrén et al. 2006). Within this approach, archaeologists have at their disposal a wealth of textual, iconographic and archaeological material to explore. In the following, this interdisciplinary research strategy will be explored and challenged in an effort to capture shadows of what might have been central cognitive structures in Late Iron Age Scandinavia. As a point of departure, the description of Odin given above will serve as a case study. It will be explained by the supposition that it is a case of some general rule. Therefore, looking carefully into this may convey to us some basic information about the concept of sovereignty par excellence in the Old Norse world and at the same time revive notions of conceptual ideas that do not necessarily conform to our modern Western cosmology. In this particular case, it has no relevance whether Odin and the Old Norse pantheon of gods are transformed into human beings as they are in Snorri's writing (‘euhemerism’) or whether they are perceived as deities, as they certainly are in The Poetic Edda.

The constitution of primacy

The first thing to realise in the representation of Odin is what he is not. Although he is the king of the pre-Christian pantheon in Scandinavia during the martial Viking Age and preceding centuries, he is not the warrior king. As the one who decides the outcome, his connection to the battlefield is, however, clear. By throwing his spear over an army he claims it, and with the same spear he marks out the bravest warriors (i.e. he kills them) to gather them in for himself and include them in his own hird as einherjar (lone-fighters/warriors killed in battle) living in Valhal (the hall of the warriors killed in battle), Odin's magnificent guest hall (Nordberg 2003). Here they were served meat from Sæhrímni (literally ‘sooty sea-beast’, although Snorri makes it a boar), and it is cooked and consumed every night in Valhal but appears whole the next day to be eaten again. All in all, the einherjar have a splendid time with their fellow hirdsmen, fighting each other for fun every day, feasting and drinking in the evenings, and waiting for the last battle, Ragnarok, to come. Although Odin is not the warrior king (it is the Asir god Tyr who is specifically associated with battle and war) or himself a warrior, he is the lord of heroes – that is, the most famous warriors – who constitute his hird, he is the owner of a splendid hall and he is a generous host. The eight new gold rings produced by his own, Draupnir, every ninth night, continuously provide him with the ability to practise generosity by way of gift-giving, creating dependency and alliances.

To conclude, Odin behaves as an earthly and mortal king, of a kind familiar from the Old Norse literature where political alliances were forged by generosity, which meant gift-giving, including gold objects, feasts for the hird, and in the last instance, the fortunes of war. He is a hall-owner, which means he is the owner of a guest hall and public building of the sort familiar to Scandinavian archaeologists. So far the portrayal of Odin corresponds well with that of a king or jarl in pre-Christian Scandinavian society, except for the fact that his authority is not attached to a position as war-leader, as might have been expected.

However, the constitution of Odin's primacy encapsulates a variety of less tangible, although highly important, skills. Alone among the Asir gods, and in common with just a few in the whole Nordic pantheon, Odin masters the act of shape shifting, and can by the exercise of his will appear in the guise of a man, woman, or animal. In addition, his magical skills include the mastering of the runic letters as described earlier. Over and above its phonetic meaning, each rune had a symbolic value, being synonymous with a name or term connected to Nordic mythology. Thus, every rune had its own magical significance and possibly also a specific numerical value; thereby runic inscriptions may have contained a threefold message (i.e. Stoklund et al. 2006). Magic, that is, the art of runes, was potentially lethal to society and had to be monopolised and controlled. In many societies both the magic of the written word itself and the ability to read and write have been interpreted as a mystical craft that reveals divination, opens the secrets of sacred writing, guarantees the efficacy of amulets and holy talismans, and preserves ancestral knowledge. Literacy has been the main qualification of many holy men and learned scholars (Helms 1988: 12). Odin was the possessor and the true owner of the feared power that the secret knowledge created (Dumézil 1969: 52). By means of runic letters he could – as already mentioned – force dead men's tongues to talk and thereby achieved fateful knowledge about both past and present. Other kinds of sorcery were under his command, too. He mastered oral magic, galdrer, which means spells and chants (Halvorsen 1960), and through the use of words he could calm the seas and turn the wind, he could extinguish fire and he possessed the magic of the weather. To conclude, Odin was a great sorcerer whose magical skills made him the most feared among the gods in the Old Norse pantheon.

Apart from the runic letters, Odin also acquired or achieved the mead of poetry while offering himself, either by hanging in the World Tree or by giving his one eye (or by raping and stealing). In other words, the skaldic poetry, the inspiration to compose and the ability to remember the highly complicated metrical stanzas well known from the Eddic poetry belonged to Odin. In two cases these skills were acquired through devastating suffering. Odin was the principal skaldic poet and an expert on runic letters through a specific painful process of acquisition (or through shape shifting and rape), not because he was naturally gifted. Thereby this act must represent the concept of ‘knowledge’ and ‘wisdom’, that is, the ability to compose from inspiration and to remember from history.

The representation of Odin is not complete without mentioning his animal companions. Two ravens named Hugin and Munin, translated as already mentioned as ‘Thought’ and ‘Mind/Memory’, are closely connected with him. Every morning they set off to remote parts of the world and returned in the evening to advise Odin. In their roles as ‘helping spirits’ they encapsulated Odin's intellectual and mental capacity, and thereby were to be perceived as metaphors for an ‘extended mind’. As specific representatives of Odin, the ravens make sense. They are impressive black birds with a good-sized beak and they are scavengers. In the Old Norse world they were well known from the battlefield, pecking the bodies of the fallen. And warriors who lost their lives in battle were, as already mentioned, supposed to be picked for an afterlife in Valhal as members of Odin's hird. While the two ravens may be seen as metaphors for cognition and cognisance, the two wolves, Freki and Geri (‘the greedy one’) represent ferocity, cruelty and the unpredictable aspects of Odin. Whether ravens or wolves, the animals are in a sense ‘followers’ representing Odin's extended mind and qualities. However, one more animal is closely connected to Odin, namely, the eight-legged steed Sleipnir. Riding the horse makes it possible to travel to the realm of the dead. In other words, this particular creature could cross the boundary between life and death, a boundary not even Odin himself was able to pass through on his own. Symbolically, Sleipnir may be seen as Odin's exclusive power to travel in all realms.

To sum up: the constitution of Odin's primacy is made up of some elements which are familiar from our own conceptual ideas of ‘power’, and others which definitely are not. On the one hand, Odin is depicted as an earthly king or nobleman in Scandinavian society, as the hall-owner with his hird, well known from the universe of the sagas and clearly recognisable in the archaeological record. On the other hand, his position and real power is interlinked with his knowledge (skaldic poetry, runic letters), his capacity as a sorcerer – not least his ability to change shape at will – and the skills of his zoomorphic helping spirits. Where Snorri's portrayal of the historical (euhemerised) god Odin has connections to the Sámi shaman, it is probably because Snorri recognised shamanic elements in the texts he knew relating to Odin (Lindow 2003). The crucial feature about Odin is, however, that his primacy and power constantly had to be negotiated and performed: it was embedded in social practice.

If this portrayal of Odin, as handed down through the literary sources, made sense in any respect to people of the Old Norse world, then we are faced with conceptual ideas and cognitive structures fundamentally opposed to our modern Western cosmology. It is the aim of the present book to explore these structures in a dialogue between written sources and material evidence.

Personification/Agency of objects

In the discussion above we have realised what might have made sense for people in the pagan past – a fundamental belief in a cognitive world of ‘otherness’ that has emerged from the Old Norse texts. Power and primacy were merged together with sorcery and knowledge, with shape changing and animal creatures in different guises as an ‘extended mind’, employing metaphors in a way we can hardly believe. The basic structural categories of the modern Western world obviously do not correspond to the fundamental categories of the ancient past when a body could exist beyond the boundary of the skin. Seemingly, words, humans and animals are not what we expect them to be. But what, then, of objects? Do they hold the same position as a neutral and unquestionable cultural category as they do in the world of today?

As already noted, two objects (a spear and a gold ring) are mentioned in connection with Odin. Gungnir and Draupnir, the spear and the ring, are both crucial to Odin's position as king of the Asir gods. It is obvious that they are not merely ‘neutral’ attributes of a specific god but inalienable to Odin in upholding his social position. Like Thor's hammer Mjollnir, Freyja's piece of gold jewellery Brísingamen, Frey's boar Gullinborsti and his ship Skídbladnir etc., all well known from the Old Norse sources, they are personified in the same way as animals such as Hugin, Munin and Sleipnir among others. As already mentioned too, Gungnir was thrown over the army fated to be slaughtered and it was used to point out the best warriors to fight the last battle, Ragnarok, against the giants, chaos and destruction. Thus Gungnir must be understood in metaphorical terms as the faith of earthly warriors and at the same time empowered Odin's ability to fight at Ragnarok. In other words, Gungnir was a ‘gifted’ spear of its own, not just an attribute of Odin, or a simple symbol of his power as a warrior. Obviously Odin was not a warrior, as already stated, and the spear was clearly not part of the prestigious – or kingly – war gear from the Late Iron Age. On the contrary, this was made up of highly decorated helmets and swords, of ships and riding equipment as familiar from the Old Norse and Old English literature as from the archaeological record. Although not a warrior, Odin was the primary god in the Nordic pantheon and an integral part of the martial elite culture not only in the North but also among barbarian peoples in Migration Period Europe, as will be argued below.

The other item attributed to Odin is the golden ring Draupnir. Every ninth night eight new rings dripped from it, permanently supporting Odin with gold and thereby providing him with supremacy in the rituals of gift-giving. For this reason it is obvious that Draupnir is a special artefact. However, the biography of the ring makes it unique, too. When Odin's most beloved son Balder died, Draupnir was placed on the funeral pyre and later followed him to the realm of the dead, named Hell's realm. Odin's other son went on Sleipnir to Hell to bring Balder back. However, Hell did not want to surrender Balder, and Balder handed Draupnir over as a gift for his father. A devastated Odin had Draupnir returned to him instead of his son. It may also have been Draupnir that played an important role in the Eddic poem Skírnismál, where it was used as a bribe to persuade the giantess Gerd to accept the Vanir god Frey as her husband and thereby unite the cosmic forces of chaos and fertility in a holy marriage (hieros gamos) (Steinsland 1991a).

In the earthly world of Old Norse societies, gold rings played a significant role as agents in the creation of political alliances and social relations and they are frequently found in the archaeological record, too. The written sources, whether Old Norse sources, early medieval law codes such as the Norwegian Gulathings law, or sources from early medieval Europe, give the impression that gift-giving was the decisive instrument in creating and upholding political alliances between lords and warrior-followers and among the warrior elite itself. Neither kings nor jarls held a political monopoly and powerful central rulers were lacking. In the continuous creation and negotiation of political primacy among the elite, gift-giving – often highly ritualised – played a significant role. Together with war gear such as...

Table of contents

• Cover Page
• Half Title page
• Title Page
• Copyright Page
• Dedication
• Contents
• List of Figures
• Acknowledgements
• Preface
• Introduction
• Part I A mythical narrative
• Part II Words of identity
• Part III The constitution of ‘otherness'
• Part IV Materiality matters
• Part V The making of Norse mythology
• Primary Sources, Including Translations
• Bibliography
• Index