3,610 words

Part XXI available here.

1. Mind-Runes

We now come to the final rune spell taught by the Valkyrie, and we will find that it is, in a very real sense, a key to the whole:

Mind-runes [hugrúnar] you must learn
if other men you would
quite outweigh in wisdom.
He who devised them,
he who carved them
and thought them up, ’twas Hropt.[1]

Hropt is a byname of Odin that may mean “the crier” or “the yeller” (from hrópa, to cry or yell). We may recall from Havamal that when Odin hangs himself on Yggdrasil he sees the runes and takes them up “screaming” (æpandi; or “yelling,” “howling”).[2] What we have in the saga, however, is an abbreviated version of the corresponding passage in Sigrdrifumal, where the full stanza reads as follows:

Mind-runes you must learn
if other men you would
quite outweigh in wisdom.
He who devised them,
he who carved them
and thought them up, ’twas Hropt,
from that liquid
that leaked
from the skull of Heithdraupnir,
and from Hoddrofnir’s horn.

You can buy Collin Cleary’s What is a Rune? here

Carolyne Larrington conjectures, reasonably, that the liquid referred to in the passage may be the mead of poetry. Heiddraupnir means “Bright-dropper” and Hoddrofnir means “Hoard-breaker,” but these names are not attested elsewhere in the lore.[3] Heiddraupnir might be another name for Mimir, from whose severed head Odin gains wisdom. Voluspa 28 also refers to Mimir drinking mead every morning from his well (though elsewhere the suggestion is that the well contains water). Hoddrofnir is simply a mystery. It is not at all clear why the saga omits these lines.

“Mind” in mind-runes (hugrúnar) is hugr, from Proto-Germanic *hugiz. Nothing in either version of the passage tells us exactly what mind-runes are. All we are told is that we need to learn them in order to be wiser than other men. And we are told that Odin is their creator. However, I believe that the next four stanzas in the saga (five in Sigrdrifumal) are a continuation of the topic of mind-runes, so let us look at what they have to say.

The stanza that follows next in Sigrdrifumal is omitted in the saga. It reads as follows:

Odin stood on a cliff,
Brimir’s sword in his hand
and a helmet on his head,
when wise Mimir’s head
spoke the first word,
and told the true staves.[4]

The identity of Brimir is a bit of a mystery. However, Voluspa 9 clearly seems to use Brimir as an alternate name for Ymir, the primal giant slain by Odin and his brothers, whose body they used to create the universe. This passage in Sigrdrifumal therefore seems to suggest a primal, foundational event. Odin stands high over the earth, upon a cliff, holding the sword of the slain Ymir. Then the head of Mimir (who may already have been referred to as Heithdraupnir) speaks the first word (fyrsta orð).

What is this first word? Might it be rūna (or rún)—the great mystery, or mysteries, expressed in the runes taken together as a totality? The next line suggests this: Mimir “told the true staves.” “Staves” here is stafi. It can mean “letters,” but was frequently used interchangeably with “runes.” What then follows is a list of things (or sorts of things) upon which the runes were carved. As Edred Thorsson points out, it seems significant that there are exactly twenty-four of these things. There were, of course, twenty-four runes in the Elder Futhark. Thorsson notes that twenty-four is, accordingly, “the cosmological ‘key number’ of wholeness.”[5]

So begins the catalog of objects on which the runes are carved:

On the shield were they carved
before the shining god [the sun]
on Arvak’s ear
and Alsvid’s hoof.
Carved there on the wheel
that turns ’neath Rungnir’s chariot,
on Sleipnir’s reins,
and the reins of his sled.[6]

Arvak and Alsvid are the horses that draw the chariot of the sun. Hrungnir is an etin who is killed by Thor. The manuscript gives “Rognir,” and Rögnir is one of the names of Odin. But most scholars believe that Hrungnir is intended. Sleipnir, of course, is the eight-legged steed of Odin. But let us continue:

On bear’s paw too,
on Bragi’s tongue,
on both wolf’s claw
and beak of eagle,
on bloody wings,
and bridge’s end,
on midwife’s palm
and healer’s footprint.[7]

Bragi is the god of poetry and husband of Idun.

On glass and gold
and on good silver,
in wine and in beerwort
and on a Völva’s seat,
in man’s flesh
and Gungnir’s point
and the breast of a giantess,
on a Norn’s fingernail
and owl’s beak.[8]

The word translated “giantess” here is gýgr. Gungnir, of course, is Odin’s spear. The next stanza then tells us what is done with all of these runes.

All that were carved
were then scraped off
and mixed in the holy mead
and sent far away.
some are with the Aesir,
some with the elves,
and with the wise Vanir,
and some are with mortal men.[9]

There seem to be seven basic categories of things onto which these runes were carved[10]:

1. “Cosmic” objects or things associated with them (the shield of the sun, ears and hooves of horses that draw the sun).
2. Divine, semi-divine, superhuman, or supernatural beings or things associated with them (Bragi’s tongue, reins of Sleipnir, Gungnir, a Völva’s seat, a giantess’s breast, etc.).
3. Human things (midwife’s palm, healer’s footprint, man’s flesh).
4. Familiar land animals (from the lifeworld of the Norse: bears, wolves, horses).
5. Birds (eagles, owls).
6. Natural materials (gold, silver).
7. Man-made materials (glass, wine, beerwort, etc.).

One gets the general impression that runes were carved on everything in heaven and on earth—and this may be precisely the point. Brynhild is communicating wisdom to Sigurd, and wisdom is fundamentally a knowledge of all things. My suggestion is that “mind-runes” has the sense of “wisdom runes,” or runes that convey fundamental knowledge or understanding. Admittedly, the poem does not mention runes being carved on literally everything. Nevertheless, it ranges over the known world. In just the same way, the Tao Te Ching uses the phrase “the ten thousand things” (wànwù) to mean everything, even though everything totals up to more than ten thousand.

Again, there are twenty-four items in total and one might conjecture that one of the twenty-four runes of the Elder Futhark was carved on each. However, it is hard to see how each of these objects corresponds to one of the runes, at least based on what we know of the meanings of the runes. Also, the text does not clearly imply that a single rune was carved on each thing. Multiple runes might have been carved on each—indeed, the entire futhark could have been carved on each. (No need to trouble ourselves over how the entire futhark could be carved on an owl’s beak; this is mythology.)

Why, exactly, were runes carved on these things? How are these wisdom runes? I would like to suggest that it was to endow them with meaning and numinous power. Again, these stanzas seem to paint a picture of a primal situation, perhaps at the beginning of time: Odin, recall, stands with Brimir’s/Ymir’s sword in his hand and Mimir speaks “the first word.” A world has just been created, and now Odin endows all things with significance. It is crucially important to bear in mind that the primary meaning of “rune” is not “letter.” When letters (written symbols) are specifically meant, the term stafir (“staves”; sing. stafr) is used. The primary meaning of rune is mystery.

The word derives from Proto-Germanic *runo, meaning “mystery,” “secret,” or “whisper” (the modern German verb raunen is derived from it and means “to whisper”). “Rune” (specifically Gothic rūna) was even used by the fourth-century Bishop Ulfilas to translate the Greek word mysterion in the Gothic Bible. Perhaps the inscription of runes on these twenty-four objects means that each is a mystery. This is not the same thing as saying “we don’t know what these things are.” Rather, it means that each can be taken as what it literally is—as gold, as a palm, as a bear, as glass, etc.—or it can be taken as a symbol; as representing some profound truth about existence, or some aspect of existence. These truths are approachable, but may not be fully expressible. It thus seems more fruitful to me to think of “mysteries” as carved into these objects, in a figurative sense. But the rune staves that are literally carved by the runemaster represent such mysteries.

Such a suggestion is already familiar to anyone who has the least acquaintance with runes. The –f– rune, Fehu means “cattle,” but cattle are not just cattle—they are an “imaginative universal” (to borrow a term from Vico); an exemplar of some phenomenon fundamental to the universe or human existence (see my essay “What is a Rune?” for a detailed discussion of this). The mysteries, however, are not limited to the twenty-four objects mentioned in the above verses. For our ancestors, all of nature was an emblem book: everything carried meaning. We see this, for example, in the various divinatory practices, and the reading of signs and omens.

You can buy Collin Cleary’s Summoning the Gods here.

In any case, we are told that the runes were scraped off these objects and mixed in the holy mead. Now, we might ask how the holy mead could have existed in the primal scene, when, according to Skaldskaparmal, it is much later that Odin wins the poetic mead from the giants. We might also ask how Mimir’s head could have been present, since it is only much later that Mimir loses his head at the hands of the angry Vanir. But any student of mythology knows that it contains all sorts of inconsistencies, and Norse mythology is certainly full of them. This is the product of different poets offering their own versions of tales or inventing entirely new tales. Different, but related tribes had their own versions of mythic tales. Even different geographic regions within one culture had differing myths, as we see in the case of the Egyptians. We refer to mythological “systems,” but none is “systematic” in the sense of being rigorous and internally consistent.

The act of scraping runes off of objects is attested elsewhere in the lore, specifically Egils Saga chapter 72 and Skirnismal 36. There, however, the act of scraping off the runes is used to negate or undo a runic spell. That definitely does not seem to be the intention here. Recall that earlier in the encounter between Sigurd and the Valkyrie, she gives him beer “Filled with spells and healing staves [= runes] with good magic, with runes of joy.” How could the beer contain runes? Possibly because they were carved on something and then shaved off into the beer (cheese, for example).

In the present context, we are told that the runes were shaved off these myriad objects, mixed into the mead, and then sent “far away.” Presumably this means that portions of the mead were sent far away. These portions, we are told, are with the Aesir, the elves, the Vanir, and with men. What is the purpose of this mead? It is likely that drinking it confers wisdom—insight into all things in heaven and on earth. It may also indicate that a certain sort of wisdom—a knowledge of runes; “mysteries”—is possessed by each of these groups.

In other words, there may be a wisdom specific to the Aesir, and others specific to the elves, the Vanir, and men. Each, in other words, has a “portion.” Each may, indeed, have their own runic system of symbols and concepts. Of course, if the above is accurate then we must ask what wisdom Brynhild possesses, for she doesn’t seem to belong to any of the four categories mentioned. It may be that she conveys to Sigurd a human wisdom. This is very plausible if she represents, as I have suggested in an earlier installment, his fylgja and the fylgja of his clan.

The runic teaching of the Valkyrie concludes with these lines:

Healing-runes [bókrúnar[11]] are these
and birth-runes [bjargrúnar[12]], too,
and all ale-runes [ölrúnar],
great, glorious runes [meginrúnar]
for all who use them
unspoilt and true
to lead luck thence.
Possess them and prosper
’til the gods are gone.[13]

Then Brynhild offers Sigurd a choice: “Speech or silence.” He chooses to speak and says this:

I shall not fly,
though you know me foredoomed;
I was created no coward.
Your friendly counsel
in full I would have,
as long as I may live.[14]

Thus ends the saga chapter.

2. The Worldly Wisdom of the Valkyrie

That Brynhild may be presenting Sigurd with a human wisdom (or a wisdom appropriate for human beings) is supported by the contents of the following chapter. Here her teaching is worldly and practical, not magical. The Valkyrie offers Sigurd a mixture of imperatives we would recognize as moral or ethical, alongside “worldly wisdom” aimed at keeping the hero out of trouble—not unlike Havamal (to which some interesting comparisons could be made).

Brynhild’s speech consists of eleven enumerated items. These are also present in Sigrdrifumal and also immediately follow the teaching of runelore. However, the order of the items differs in Sigrdrifumal. Also, the author of the saga has changed some of the Valkyrie’s advice in ways that are interesting. Here is a summary of her teaching in the saga chapter:

1. Treat your kin well and don’t avenge yourself on them.
2. Beware of evil, including the love of a maiden or another man’s wife. (This is the eighth item mentioned in Sigrdrifumal.)
3. Avoid fools in public. Don’t stay silent if they mock you, for you’ll be seen as a coward. Be sure to kill them another day.
4. Take care if you go where evil spirits dwell. Don’t sleep near the road, because evil spirits often dwell there who can affect your judgment.

In Sigrdrifumal, this fourth injunction is considerably more detailed:

I’ll give you advice a fourth time.
If an evil sorceress [fordæða vammaful]
offers you lodging on your journey,
it is better to keep going
than to stay with her –
even if darkness sets on you outside.

Warriors need
prudent eyes,
if they wish to wage battles.
Often witches wise in evil magic [bölvísar konur; “evil-wise women”]
will sit near a road, dulling
men’s sword blades – and their minds.[15]

In the saga, gone are the references to witches. In their place, only “evil wights” (illar vættir) are mentioned. The term “wight” refers to a minor supernatural being. It derives from Proto-Germanic *wihtiz which had the very general sense of “thing,” “being,” or “creature.” In Old Norse it occurs in compound nouns like landvættir (“land wights,” the spirits of a place), and bjargvættir (“birth wights”). The term does not survive in Modern English, but its descendent in Modern German in Wicht, which has the basic sense of imp, goblin, or sprite. In this chapter as in the preceding, the sagaman clearly makes use of material in Sigrdrifumal, but why does he eliminate the references to witches? Probably for the same reason that he does not refer to Brynhild and Sigrun as Valkyries, and has Sigmund and Sinfjotli putting on wolf skins rather than projecting their hamir in wolf form.

The saga was written down in Christian times, and these changes were likely made because certain elements in the saga were offensive to Christian sensibilities. From our perspective, the sagaman is inconsistent about this. For example, if witches should not be mentioned, why then are wights acceptable? And in other contexts, of course, Christians were perfectly willing to discuss witches. We may not, at this point, be able to make complete rational sense of the writer’s decisions, but it is not an issue that need detain us.

5. Don’t let pretty women disturb your sleep or your peace of mind. And don’t seduce them with kisses and other niceties.

6. Don’t engage with drunken men. It’s pointless and talking with them often has bad consequences.

In Sigrdrifumal, the Valkyrie puts more emphasis on the hazards of drunkenness as such:

Often a night
of song and beer
has caused men unhappiness;
it’s sometimes caused their death,
it’s sometimes gotten them cursed.
Drunkenness has caused untold sorrows.[16]

7. Fight your enemies rather than let them burn you alive in your own home.

8. Do not swear a false oath, for oathbreakers come to a bad end.

In Sigrdrifumal, this is actually the second item mentioned, after the injunction to treat one’s kin well. Given the importance of oaths and oath-keeping in Norse culture, it makes much more sense that this would be the second item rather than the eighth.

9. Respect the dead and prepare their bodies well.

Sigrdrifumal expands on this eloquently, with some details about how the Norse prepared the bodies of the dead:

Clean the bodies
of the dead,
wash their hands and head,
and comb and dry them
before you put them in a coffin,
then wish them a good rest.[17]

10. Don’t trust a man if you’ve killed his father or brother, for often a “wolf” lives in him. (Both the saga and Sigrdrifumal employ this image.)

11. Beware the deceit of friends.

In the saga, this advice is immediately followed by “And I can’t foresee much of your life if the hatred of your wife’s kinsmen does not fall upon you.”[18] The corresponding passage in Sigrdrifumal, which ends the poem, is rather different:

I’ll give you an eleventh piece of advice:
Avoid evil,
whatever path you take.
I don’t think you’ll live long,
prince of warriors –
great battles are before you.[19]

There is no mention of the brothers-in-law. We know in advance, of course, how Sigurd’s in-laws will betray him—and we know that Sigurd will break his oath to Brynhild, though he will do so unwittingly. Both of these outcomes have already been foreseen by Gripir, Sigurd’s uncle, and the hero knows his fate.

The saga chapter ends with Sigurd declaring that there is no woman wiser than Brynhild. He swears that he will marry her, as they are ideally suited. For her part, Brynhild responds that she would choose Sigurd above all other men. “And this they swore, each to the other.”[20] The Old Norse says this: Ok þetta bundu þau eiðum með sér. Literally: “And this they bound with oaths between themselves.” The following chapter begins “Then Sigurd rode away.” But he will shortly be reunited with Brynhild—under rather puzzling circumstances, as we shall see.

In a later chapter, when Sigurd (in the form of Gunnar) has once more ridden Grani through the flames surrounding Brynhild’s hall, we are told that he removes Andvaranaut from her finger, and that he had “given it to her earlier.”[21] Andvaranaut, a gold ring, was part of the treasure belonging to Andvari, which came into the possession of Fafnir, and then was won by Sigurd. In the two chapters dealing with Sigurd’s first meeting with Brynhild, no mention is made of the ring—but in this later chapter we are told that Sigurd had given it to the Valkyrie, apparently to plight his troth to her. The text then says that he “gave her another [ring] from Fafnir’s inheritance.”[22] It is not clear why Sigurd—who has no memory of Brynhild at this point or of his promises to her—would think it necessary to switch the rings.

* * *

The series of events involving the dragon slaying and the meeting with Brynhild constitutes the high point of the saga. From here on out, the story becomes thoroughly tragic. What should have taken place was the “chemical wedding” of Sigurd with his higher self. But once Sigurd has effectively ended his career as a lone warrior and settled down in the world of men (the world of the Burgundians or Nibelungs) his life takes a disastrous turn.

All this, once again, has been foretold. And it is no accident that Odin only reappears in the saga at the very end. His previous appearance was just before Sigurd killed Fafnir. Once the hero has slain the dragon and acquired wisdom from the dragon and his blood, as well as from Brynhild, he has become the super-warrior that Odin intended him to be. Fundamentally, from this point onward, Odin is no longer interested in Sigurd. The hero’s tragic death is what will deliver him to Valhalla, to join Odin’s army of the Einherjar.

Author’s Note: It may be some weeks before I can return to this series. There are several essays I am committed to writing first.

Notes

[1] Vǫlsunga Saga – The Saga of the Volsungs, trans. R.G. Finch (London: Thomas Nelson, 1965), 37. Henceforth “Finch.” I have sometimes altered this translation to make it more literal.

[2] Hrópa and æpandi (infinitive: æpa) are not related terms, but they are related concepts.

[3] The Poetic Edda, trans. Carolyne Larrington (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1996), 285.

[4] The Poetic Edda, trans. Jackson Crawford (Indianapolis: Hackett Publishing, 2015), 255. Henceforth, Crawford, PE.

[5] Edred Thorsson, Runelore (York Beach, Maine: Samuel Weiser, 1987), 108.

[6] Finch, 37-38.

[7] Finch, 38.

[8] Finch, 38.

[9] Finch, 38-39.

[10] This is my own system of categorization. It is easy to see, however, that there could be different ways of categorizing these objects.

[11] Jesse L. Byock believes bókrúnar is an error in the manuscript and that it should read bótrúnar, “cure runes” (or “healing-runes”). If bókrúnar is correct, it could mean “beech-runes” or “book-runes.” See Byock, The Saga of the Volsungs (London: Penguin Classics, 1999), 118. Larrington concurs that bókrúnar is likely an error but leaves the error uncorrected and translates it as “book runes.” See Larrington, 285.

[12] Or life-saving runes, or aid-runes.

[13] Finch, 39.

[14] Finch, 39.

[15] Crawford, PE, 258.

[16] Crawford, PE, 258.

[17] Crawford, PE, 259.

[18] Finch, 40.

[19] Crawford, PE, 259.

[20] Finch, 40.

[21] Finch, 50.

[22] Finch, 50.