“When a judge walks into the room, and everybody stands up, you’re not standing up to that guy, you’re standing up to the robe that he’s wearing and the role that he’s going to play. What makes him worthy of that role is his integrity, as a representative of the principles of that role, and not some group of prejudices of his own. So what you’re standing up to is a mythological character. I imagine some kings and queens are the most stupid, absurd, banal people you could run into, probably interested only in horses and women, you know. But you’re not responding to them as personalities, you’re responding to them in their mythological roles. When someone becomes a judge, or President of the United States, the man is no longer that man, he’s the representative of an eternal office; he has to sacrifice his personal desires and even life possibilities to the role that he now signifies.”
A majority of the written sources we do have are from Iceland. Vikings discovered Iceland in the middle of the 9th century. This discovery led to a land rush as many families were eager to carve out a new life in this austere place of stark beauty. Many of these settlers were escaping Harald Fairhair and other despotic kings who were nation-building in Scandinavia. These pioneer families were fiercely independent and wanted to preserve their way of life and culture without becoming the serfs of greedy lords.
Consequently, many of the Vikings who settled Iceland were from western Norway. Other Vikings came to Iceland indirectly, by way of the Hebrides, Orkney, Ireland, or the Faroe Islands, with Celts from those lands making up portions of their households.
The Vikings set up a democracy in Iceland, with a firm sense of law based on honor and restitution. In the year 1000, the Icelanders voted to accept Christianity as the public religion, while allowing people to practice whatever religion they chose in private. This decision was made for the sake of peace and to keep up with the changing times. But this peculiar conversion would have another effect as well: while Viking descendants in Christianized Scandinavia, Normandy, England, and elsewhere actively distanced themselves from their pagan past, the Icelanders were much more comfortable with that part of their heritage. This, combined with natural isolation and a conservative disposition, led to Iceland remaining a bastion of Old Norse culture.
Even today, a thousand years later, the modern Icelandic language is very similar to Old Norse. Though some word meanings and pronunciation have naturally shifted, Icelandic college students can read the Medieval manuscripts without much difficulty. This retention of language is a tremendous testament to the cultural preservation that occurred in that island nation.
In the middle of the 13th century – more than 150 years after the last Vikings sailed the seas or stood in battle – Iceland was undergoing a violent political crisis. This crisis of politics became a crisis of identity, and perhaps because of this, there was a strong intellectual impulse to record the remnants of their ancient heritage. For the first time, Viking lore was set down in writing for future generations to read.
This creative impulse expressed itself in two forms: The first was the Eddas – the collected poetry and myths of the Old Norse gods, goddesses, and heroes. But the second impulse may have been the more remarkable: the Icelanders set down the stories of their ancestors – ordinary men and women. These sagas were a unique accomplishment in medieval literature. Even today, the sagas are recognized as one of the world’s great literary achievements and a forerunner of the modern novel.
Even in the Viking Age, poets from Iceland were considered among the best. But after their time, their descendants expanded the Norse oral tradition into a vibrant literary culture. To this day, Icelanders read more books and even write more books per capita than any other nation in the world.
At the dawn of time, Odin and his two brothers killed the giant Ymir and created the world from his body. As usual, a god’s motivations are difficult to determine. Did Odin simply need Ymir dead for the sake of creation? Or did the Alfather reason that if Ymir continued to spawn giants that any order in the universe would become impossible? In any case, as the three gods tore the massive giant to pieces, a vast deluge of blood burst forth. This blood became all the world’s oceans, and the torrent swept away every giant – except for one family who escaped in a wooden ark. This giant was named Bergelmir, and all the later giants were descended from him.
Odin and his brothers made the land from Ymir’s corpse, with his teeth and broken bones forming the stones and the mountains, the great dome of his skull forming the sky, and even his thoughts forming the clouds – thin and wispy or dark and brooding. They called this world Midgard, and they encircled it with a mighty barrier made from Ymir’s eyelashes. They also made their own realm, Asgard. Asgard and Midgard (along with several other of the Nine Worlds) became “innangard,” a place of protection where the gods ruled. Beyond, were places the giants ruled – Jotunheim, Hel, and the other realms that formed “utangard” or, as both Utgard and utangard would be translated, “beyond the enclosure.”
Cast out into the darkness of Utgard, the Jötnar remembered a time when they ruled. Either out of a need for revenge or because – as the Eddic Poem says – they really were “born of venom and thus fierce and cruel,” the giants dream of a time when they will overcome Asgard and Midgard.
The time for them to unite and march against the gods will come in Ragnarok. In the meantime, many giants try their luck raiding the territory of the gods. The bravest of them sometimes appear in Asgard, with a challenge or a trick for the Aesir gods, or they come to terrify us mortals in Midgard. When the Vikings and other Nordic/Germanic peoples took shelter from howling storms, they knew it was Odin leading the gods in “the Wild Hunt” against the giants. When they saw thunder’s flash and the pound of lightning, they knew Thor was smiting giants with his mighty hammer, Mjolnir.
Sometimes, the gods and giants live in an uneasy peace. Not only did gods and giants often form marriages, liaisons, and alliances, but there were times when giants were even able to show some sympathy with the gods. For example, when the most beloved god, Baldr, died because of Loki’s treachery, even the giants wept. Peace never lasted long, though. Whether because giants would make incursions into Asgard, or because Odin or Thor would venture into Jotunheim on their adventures, the hostility between giants and gods was always kept alive.
This enmity and ages-long struggle will come to fruition at Ragnarok. There the gods and giants will destroy each other. Like the opposing forces of creation and chaos they seem to be, they will cancel each other out, and oblivion will resume before the universe is – perhaps – born anew.
“Mythology, in other words, is not an outmoded quaintness of the past, but a living complex of archetypal, dynamic images, native to, and eloquent of, some constant, fundamental stratum of the human psyche. And that stratum is the source of the vital energies of our being. Out of it proceed all the fate-creating drives and fears of our lives. While our educated, modern waking-consciousness has been going forward on the wheels and wings of progress, this recalcitrant, dream-creating, wish-creating, under-consciousness has been holding to its primeval companions all the time, the demons and the gods.”
It is common to hear the Norse giants referred to as frost giants or ice giants. The Prose Edda seems to refer to Jötnar as frost giants (hrimþursar) much of the time. This is only part of the story, though.
The association between giants and ice is understandable considering that the giants first arose from the meeting of fire and ice in the yawning void at the dawn of time and because the giants live beyond the realm of gods and mortals. People living as close to nature as Vikings did usually associated intense cold with death and hardship. The inhabited parts of the Viking world were hemmed by glaciers and frozen mountains. Meanwhile, the Giants were said to live in Jotunheim or Utgard (which means a place outside or beyond the boundaries of the worlds of humans and gods). One Eddic poem describes a hall in Utgard this way:
I saw a hall that stands far from the sun On the beaches of corpses the doors face north Drops of poison fall from the roof The walls are encircled by serpents
(Voluspa, verse 37, Crawford’s 2015 translation)
Despite these associations with cold and ice, not all giants are “frost giants” as such. One of the most feared giants of all is Surt, a massive being of fire that will bring great destruction to the world at Ragnarok. The Poetic Edda mentions Thor killing “lava giants” as well as frost giants, and sometimes presents them in juxtaposition, as in the poem For Skirnis: “hear me, giants, hear me, frost-trolls, hear me, fire-trolls!” In this same poem, some giants are presented as radiantly beautiful, while others are ghastly and horrifying. Indeed, the Jötnar may be the most diverse of all the beings that haunt the Viking imagination.
“Certainly there is a new age coming, and it will be a planetary age. But the beginnings of ages are usually terrible, with great violence, yang in a most brutal way. New ages don’t come softly; they are times of aggression and smashing. I see no sign of anything gentle happening.”
In Norse mythology, giants are the original “founding” beings at the top of the Norse family tree. The more commonly known gods (such as Odin, Thor) are all direct or indirect descendants of these giants. Giants were called Jötunn (singular) or Jötnar (plural). The word Jötunn originally came from the Proto-Germanic word that meant “devourer.”
Another name for them was þursar or þurs (pronounced thurss), which means something like “powerful and injurious one” or simply something like “piercer” or “thorn.” In the rune poems, the Thurisaz rune is associated with the Jötnar (giants), as well as sickness, tragedy, and pain.
The very first giant, Ymir (pronounced EE-mir), arose from primordial chaos when the worlds of fire and of ice came together in a tremendous, hissing scream. His offspring, the Jötnar, were spirits of this chaos, representing the destructive cycle of the natural universal order.
The Aesir and the Vanir tribes of gods also arose partially from this same race of giants (though they also had another ancestor, Buri – a being of unknown origin that had been bounded in ice until he was eventually set free from Ymir’s cow named Auðumbla who licked at the ice for three days). By the gods’ own nature and choice, the giants became the positive or creative aspect of universal order. In Viking lore, it is not so much that the gods are good and the giants evil, but rather that the gods and giants are in opposition and balance. This is not to say that Norse belief observed a strict dualism (as some ancient religions did), but they understood their world through their stories of struggle between the gods and the Jötnar, between creation and destruction,
Sometimes, the difference between giants and gods is itself obscure. For example, Loki is often thought of as the Viking god of trouble. He was an adopted member of the Aesir tribe of gods and blood-brother to Odin, but Loki was the son of giants and is only ambiguously called a god in the primary sources. None of his offspring are gods but are giants or supernatural beasts. Similarly, Jörð (a “Mother Earth” figure) and Skadi (the ski-borne goddess of the wild) appear in the Eddas as Jötunn in origin. They are later called goddesses, but then often excluded from lists or gatherings of goddesses in Asgard.
Some experts see in this interplay between gods and giants a parallel of how the Vikings themselves interacted with the cultures around them. Whether this is accurate or not, the lore is clear that the gods and giants are not distinct races of beings but rather opposing and competing forces. These competing forces’ cosmic nature can easily be inferred from the names, attributes, and actions of the individual members within these “warring tribes.”
Most people have heard that for the Vikings, brave warriors went to Valhalla while everyone else went to Hel (the underworld), but actual Norse beliefs were more complicated and less standardized than that. To the Viking mind, there were different layers of self and different time frames. These elements could move on – as well as various places they could go. This left plenty of room for ghosts and the undead in the Norse imagination.
Stories of ghosts occur in many of the sagas and Eddic poems. They sometimes visit the living in dreams or can be found haunting their burial mounds. One reference in Njal’s Saga speaks of a ghost who sits atop his burial mound singing by night, seemingly content. This offers a glimpse of how the Vikings felt their ancestors were always with them.
The Eddic poem, Helgaknitha Hundingsbana II (The Second Poem of Helgi Killer of Hunding), paints a darker picture of such a haunting. Helgi, the slain hero, returns to his burial mound from Valhalla on one magical night. Helgi’s ghost has physical substance and still bleeds from his battle wounds. His grieving widow, Sigrun, spends the night in his arms within the cold tomb. Sigrun returns to the burial mound night after night, though it is unknown if Helgi ever returns. She eventually dies from her sorrow. The poem ends with the lines, “all the dead are more powerful by night than they are by bright day.”
Some ghosts are not lost loved ones visiting from beyond the grave, though. The Vikings believed in beings called Draugr (also called an Aptrganga or “after-walker”), a malicious ghost with physical form. This undead being usually had been a bad man who died in a bad way. They were recognizable as the dead man but had grotesque features, bluing skin, and eyes that could render humans immobile with fear. They had otherworldly strength. They could sometimes appear much larger than they had been when alive and were usually described as inexplicably heavy.
Sometimes the Draugr was content to guard his treasure in his burial mound, but others terrorized farms or haunted a specific area. An embodiment of the bad luck that could plague the farms of the Viking world, the Draugr would kill livestock, horses, or pets. They could cause roofs to collapse or other disasters. Sometimes, the Draugr would kill people directly, especially if he was challenged. Shepherds, servants, or cattle-drivers would be found dead, and when their bodies were inspected, it was found that every bone – big and small – was broken.
One of the most detailed accounts of these “Viking zombies” is in Grettir’s Saga. Grettir is an outlaw and an antihero, but he is a fearless Viking of great physical strength. Early in his life, he faces a Draugr in a burial mound and kills it, winning the short sword (seax) that was buried with it. Years later, though, Grettir faces Glam, a very dangerous, malevolent Draugr. Grettir decapitates Glam, but not before Glam places a heavy curse on him. This curse causes Grettir trouble and tragedy for the rest of his life, and ever-after the mighty Viking is afraid of the dark.
According to Grettir’s Saga and some other sources, the Viking method for killing the undead was not a stake through the heart or fire, but rather by cutting off the fiend’s head and place it next to its ass. Interestingly, archaeologists have found several Viking Age graves in which the skull was found between the skeleton’s legs, just below the pelvis. Other remains have been found weighed down by heavy stones to keep the dead where they were.
Vikings believed that some gods, giants, dwarves, elves, spirits, and even human beings could change shape. Examples of such shape-shifting includes Odin turning into an eagle to steal the mead of poetry; Loki turning into a mare and becoming mother to the 8-legged horse, Sleipnir; Fafnir, a dwarf whose greed turned him into a massive dragon; and other incidents of characters becoming salmon, snakes, otters, falcons, seals, swans, or bears. But one of the most common – and most terrifying – of these shapeshifters were werewolves.
Stories of werewolves and similar human-animal shapeshifters have been around for thousands of years and are found throughout the world, and so it could hardly be said that the Norse invented them. Yet, the werewolf holds a very special place in Viking lore. In their stories, we see these dark manifestations of humankind’s animal nature better explored than ever before.
The Vikings had different types of werewolves. Several appear in The Volsunga Saga. In the fifth chapter of this long epic, Sigmund and 9 other sons of the heroic Volsung family have been captured by an evil king and bound in massive timber stocks out in the wild, black forest. Every night, an enormous she-wolf comes and devours one of the brothers while the others watch helplessly. This continues until Queen Signy – the wife of the evil king and the sister of the hapless Volsungs – smears her favorite brother’s face with honey. When the demonic wolf comes to kill Sigmund, she is distracted by the honey, and – as she licks her victim’s face and sticks her long, lolling tongue in his mouth, Sigmund bites hard and holds on. As the wolf thrashes to get free, she smashes Sigmund’s fetters – and rips her own tongue out. The hero breaks loose as the creature bleeds to death. It is later revealed this unworldly wolf is the mother of the evil king who had transformed her shape using dark arts.
Later in TheVolsunga Saga, Sigmund and his son, Sinfjotli, are outlaws in the woods. Using enchanted wolf skins, Sigmund and Sinfjotli become werewolves for 9 nights at a time. While thus enchanted, young Sinfjotli is so terrifying and powerful that he can kill 11 armed men at once. This transformation affects more than just their physical strength though – in a fit of savage rage while in wolf form, Sigmund rips his own son’s throat out. Realizing what he has done, Sigmund uses all his willpower, magic, healing skill, and a little help from the gods to break out of his wolf trappings and heal his son before it is too late. The two burn their wolf mantles after that and do not go back to being werewolves.
The Volsunga Saga is one of the legendary sagas, and so is full of dragons, dwarves, and the like. Did the Vikings really believe these things, or for them, was it just a good story? Werewolves also appear in the more “realistic” Islandasagur sagas, suggesting that Vikings (or at least, many of them) did really believe in the existence of werewolves. For example, in Egil’s Saga, the hero’s father is called Kveldulf (“Evening Wolf”) for his lupine personality and the rumors that he runs with wolves by moonlight.
There were also real-world examples of Viking “werewolves.” Viking warbands featured berserkers – the frenzied bear-inspired warriors devoted to Odin. They also had another type of elite known as úlfheðnar (literally, “wolf-skins”). Not much is known about these Viking wolf warriors, aside from what clues appear in poetry or in art from the Viking Age and earlier Vendel period. In the depictions, these warriors appear as fearless and savage in the extreme. They take on all the qualities of the wolf and strike dread into the hearts of their enemies.
So, the Viking image of werewolves is diverse and ranges in its believability. Missing in Norse lore is the direct association between werewolves and a full moon. Indeed, one does not become a werewolf by being bitten by another werewolf. In the stories, though, one sees a clear relationship between the wolf nature and night. Especially in the case of Kveldulf, we see the “werewolf personality” of a mysterious, reclusive, abrasive, dangerous loner. As in the story of Sigmund and Sinfjotli, we see how the savage nature of the wolf takes over human nature and how the human spirit struggles to achieve some kind of control over it. All these themes are still present in the better werewolf tales of today.
Belief in witches stretches across almost all cultures in history, and the Vikings definitely did not invent them. Vikings believed in magic and never took it lightly. There are about 40 different words for magic and magic users in their language of Old Norse, showing the range of understanding and the importance they placed on it. Freyja, the most venerated of the Norse goddesses, was a goddess of magic and taught her arcane arts to Odin. Freyja is sometimes called a witch in the Eddic poems and was much maligned for this by later Christians. Freyja traveled in a chariot drawn by black or gray cats. These quiet, intelligent, ruthless creatures are her familiars or messenger spirits. A Viking who looked up to see a raven might see it as an omen from Odin, just as he might see a black cat as a sign that Freyja was watching.
Witches, sorcerers, and wizards were taken seriously and respected in the Viking world. This is further attested by the many Viking Age graves archaeologists have discovered that have grave goods (valuables deliberately interred with the body) associated with magic users. One tell-tale sign of a witch’s grave is an iron staff. It is thought that these iron staffs were used by Völva sorceresses in certain magic rituals, held between the thighs as the witch entered a shamanistic trance. At such times, it was thought that the witch’s layers of inner self left their outer body (what occultists now refer to as astral projection).
One passage referring to this is in the Havamal:
I know a tenth spell If I see witches at play in the air I can cast this spell So that they get lost So they can’t find their skins So they can’t find their minds
If the Viking Age, witches used their iron rod as a means of traveling across levels of consciousness, it is easy to see how later Medieval Christians would say that witches “flew through the air riding on brooms.”
So, the pagan Vikings respected (and feared) witches and often turned to them for help, but when the Vikings gradually became more Christian, witches were targeted as public enemies by the Church. Witchcraft never wholly died out, though. In Iceland, in particular, witchcraft survived in a well-documented line from early Viking times until the present – though it certainly changed and took on elements and influences from other cultures.
It is not just the Medieval Christian that shifted the perspective of the witch from medicine woman and soothsayer to evil, hexing hag, though. Viking lore is replete with frightening or “wicked” witches. There are at least three Eddic poems in which the speaker is a dead witch awoken by Odin or Freyja’s necromancy, and forced to lend her wisdom to the gods though she is full of spite for them. The worst of the evil witches were sometimes referred to as “Troll Wives” and were Jötnar rather than human. Like many fearsome beings in Norse lore, Troll Wives are seldom described in detail. However, the impression given fits the Halloween image of a lank-haired, green-skinned disfigured distortion of the elderly.
But it is clear that there is a broad range of witches. Only some of them could really be classified as good or evil – which is typical of the moral complexity and honesty that has made Norse lore so poignant and enduring.
Mark Bere Peterson’s Hauntings, Urban Legends, Paganism & Witchcraft 