Egil Skallagrimsson and the Viking Ideal

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ow did the Vikings want to be perceived--by other members of their own culture, and by posterity? It is not an altogether easy question to answer, for unlike many of the peoples they traumatized they were still pagan in the early stages of their story and therefore to all intents and purposes illiterate--in the Europe of the early Middle Ages writing was an accomplishment that came with Christianity. But the question is surely worth pondering, and it has the advantage of making us take a new look at our medieval sources.

Our fullest information about how the Vikings wanted to be remembered probably comes from later medieval Scandinavian accounts that saw them as inhabiting a kind of heroic age. These are mainly contained in thirteenth- and early fourteenth-century prose sagas composed in Iceland. In themselves, these sagas wouldn't be able to help us much, for although they surely drew from traditions that were passed down orally over the centuries, they are also products of their late-medieval writers' interests and preoccupations. But they also often contain poetry they claim their heroes actually composed, and there usually seems little reason to doubt the claim. In what follows I will accordingly start thinking about how the Vikings wanted to be perceived by referring to some of this poetry. I will confine myself to what is generally considered the very best of this poetry, which comes from an outstandingly successful Viking by the name of Egil Skallagrimsson (ca. 910-990).

The poetry that Egil and his peers specialized in--scaldic poetry, as it is now termed--is most importantly praise poetry, designed to commemorate kings and other prominent people, often in the form of quite long poems. But it also often treats exploits of the poet himself, this time in extempore single verses commenting on specific situations, and always in a highly self-congratulatory tone. It is extremely complex metrically and it uses a highly ornate metaphoric language--its complexity presumably helped ensure that it would be remembered even in an age that was for all intents and purposes without writing. But because it is so concerned with praise, it can tell us a great deal about the qualities the Vikings themselves held dear.

We mainly know of Egil through an Icelandic saga bearing his name, Egil's Saga, again one of the very finest of the sagas. His family, like very many described in the sagas, had been forced to emigrate from Norway because of an ongoing feud with the family of Harald Finehair. Harald was a once petty king who violently consolidated Norway's several power bases into a single kingdom--sometimes, it seems, by simply hacking people's arms and legs off (Egil's Saga, ch. 4). He was originally known as Harald Shaggyhair because he had vowed not to cut his hair until he had performed this consolidation; as things turned out, he had a fine head of fair hair.

Egil's father, Skallagrim, was the one who had to deal with Harald, and who eventually decided the family had best depart for Iceland. Egil's own dealings were mainly with Harald's son, also for a while king of Norway, who went by the ominous name of Eirik Bloodaxe. Also involved was Eirik's oversexed and witch-like queen Gunnhild, whose feelings towards Egil were evidently those of a woman scorned. (All of this is according to the saga writer: From here on I am not going to be that concerned with history except as filtered either by this writer or by Egil himself.)

Egil is certainly no prototype of the kind of poet we think of in our post-romantic age. But he was outstandingly talented, and he realized as a child that it would be an important part of his cultural persona to be able to compose the poetry so valued by his society. He also genuinely loved poetry: we learn that in his later life he greatly enjoyed discussing poetry with other poets (ch. 78). And he must have worked very hard at acquiring the requisite skills, although we do not hear much about this. Even in his own time he seems to have been universally recognized as unequaled as a poet; it was an assessment he himself thoroughly agreed with.

By all accounts, not least his own, he started composing poetry exceptionally early--at the tender age of 3, to be exact. According to the saga-writer (ch. 31), his first poem marks the moment when he first went against his father's wishes. Skallagrim had refused to allow Egil to attend a feast being given by Yngvar, Skallagrim's father-in-law and Egil's grandfather. "You're not going," said Skallagrim. "You don't know how to behave yourself when there's company gathered and a lot of drinking going on. You're difficult enough to cope with when you're sober" (this to a child of three!). So Egil found himself a horse and rode to the feast where he was delightedly greeted by Yngvar. This inspired a poem, in which he praises Yngvar for his generosity as a host (a much valued quality) and himself for being the most brilliant three-year-old poet around. Here I am at the hearth

Of my host, Yngvar

The Generous, who grants

Gold to heroic men;

Free-handed fosterer,

You'll find no three-year

Babe among bards

More brilliant than me. (ch. 31) His father must have been furious, but the saga writer doesn't elaborate.

We next hear of Egil's ambitions when he was 6 (ch. 40), in a verse that looks directly towards his career as a Viking. According to the saga writer, he had been playing in a ball game against Grim, a boy of 10 or 11. Grim had been winning. Egil furiously struck Grim with his bat. Grim threw Egil to the ground and the other children started laughing. Egil found an ax and killed Grim--even as children, these are people who wanted their respect. The two households came to blows, and seven men were killed. When Egil returned home his father was not pleased, but his mother proudly declared Egil had the makings of a real Viking in him.

The young Egil's poem--presented in the original Old Norse--describes his vision of a Viking's life.

Egil responded with a verse that has become a classic expression of the "Viking mentality." Already by the age of 6 Egil has defined the tough-guy part of himself. And if it wasn't in fact his mother who encouraged his ambitions, we can assume such ambitions were in the air. I like to think of sweet little Egil being regularly regaled with stories of Vikings during the long dark Icelandic winters.

Egil urges his comrades to do "a courageous deed" and make "the ugly music of spears."

That Egil lived up to his early tough-guy promise is evidenced both by the saga writer and by his own verses. In one of the incidents connected with King Eirik Bloodaxe, for example, he prides himself for having hacked and hurled a trio of trusty royal servants down to Hell eternal (ch. 45). He delights in launching the rites of the battle song when an opportunity to plunder in Lund arises (ch. 47).

He also leaves us plenty more in this vein. When he tries to make himself attractive to women, for example, it is by boasting of how he made the barns blaze (ch. 48). He prides himself on killing a miser (ch. 57), on killing Queen Gunnhild's young son (ch. 57), on how he would kill a troublesome berserk ("I'll hack him down when I'm ready;/ . . . No mercy from the poet" ch. 64), on how he twice took on 11 men by himself ("I carved the wolf's carrion/And killed them all" ch. 78), on how he was rewarded by one king and got the better of another ("The prince has praised me/With precious gold,/The wild king once/Was tamed by my words" ch. 85). He describes how he used his teeth to tear out the throat of a certain Atli ("My teeth solved my troubles/And tore out his throat" ch. 65), and how he vomited all over a certain Armod ("Many a guest's gift/Is even more gushing;/Now the ale has ended up/All over Armod" ch. 71). Later he gouged out Armod's eye with his finger, leaving it hanging on his cheek (ch. 72). And so on.

Egil confirms that the Vikings wanted to present themselves much as they were remembered by those they traumatized. But they also wanted to be remembered for other things, too. This is where our picture begins to get complex and therefore interesting.

So far I have been mainly referring to Egil's poems about himself. As anticipated by his 3-year-old efforts, however, he also developed into a wonderful composer of praise poetry. On one famous occasion his skill at such composition saved him from execution by his archenemy Eirik Bloodaxe, now King in northern England--egged on, of course, by Bad Queen Gunnhild. Overnight, Egil composed a long poem praising Eirik's exploits--and only occasionally getting at him--in a completely new meter. It stunned King Eirik, causing him, grudgingly, to give Egil his life: King Eirik sat bolt upright, his eyes fixed on Egil while he recited his poem.

When it was finished the King spoke.

"The poem was finely delivered," he said. (ch. 61) As Eirik realized, the poem held the key to his own immortality. Let me quote its beginning and end (it consists of 16 stanzas, with refrains articulating it into a beginning, middle and end) to give you an idea of how it works: By sun and moon

I journeyed west,

My sea-borne tune

From Odin's breast,

My song-ship packed

With poet's art:

Its word-keel cracked

The frozen heart.



And now I feed

With an English king:

So to English mead

I'll word-mead bring,

Your praise my task,

My song your fame,

If you but ask

I'll sound your name.

These praises, King,

Won't cost you dear

That I shall sing

If you will hear:

Who beat and blazed

Your trail of red,

Till Odin gazed

Upon the dead. [ . . .]

On his gold arm

The bright shield swings:

To his foes, harm:

To his friends, rings;

His fame's a feast

Of glorious war,

His name sounds east,

From shore to shore.

And now my lord,

You've listened long

As word on word

I built this song:

Your source is war,

Your streams are blood,

But my springs pour

Great Odin's flood.