Anthony Faulkes‘The influence of the Latin Tradition on Snorri Sturluson’s writings’
During the second half of the twentieth century, several scholars emphasised what they took to
be the learned Christian Latin background to Snorri Sturluson’s writings. For example, Walter
Baetke (1952) and Anne Holtsmark (1964) believed that Snorri interpreted Heathen mythology
in the light of Christian theology and Ursula and Peter Dronke (1977), I myself (Faulkes 1978–9,
1983), and Margaret Clunies Ross (1987) pointed to various Latin sources, Classical, Biblical orMedieval, as possibly contributing to Snorri’s understanding of the heathen religion. Thisapproach has mainly been concerned with the Prose Edda, in particular the Prologue toGylfaginning, the foreign origin of the ideas of which had long before been argued by Andreas
Heusler (1908). Heusler, however, did not believe that the Prologue was by Snorri Sturluson, andif he was right, much of the evidence for Snorri’s use of Latin sources disappears. In fact heargued that the use of foreign sources in the Prologue, which he described as ‘ein elendes
Machwerk’ (‘a sorry piece of work’), was itself an argument against Snorri’s authorship. He
believed Snorri would have based all his writing on native tradition. Only occasionally has
anyone tried to argue for the influence of Latin Historiography on Heimskringla (apart from the
mythological Ynglinga saga; see Diana Whaley (1991), 81). No one to my knowledge has argued
for Latin influence on Egils saga, which, like the Prologue to Gylfaginning, may not be by
Snorri anyway. Jakob Benediktsson, in his investigation of the extent of the influence of theLatin rules of cursus on Old Norse literature (1974), found that Snorri’s Óláfs saga helga,
Heimskringla and Egils saga showed no more adherence to the rules of cursus than other native
vernacular texts.
It is noteworthy that Ursula and Peter Dronke and Margaret Clunies Ross laid great stress on
the fact that the concepts they identified as being derived from particular Latin authors appearedin the Prose Edda in the same order as in the supposed originals; in addition, in the case of
Ursula and Peter Dronke, that aspects of the work they identified as influencing Snorri weredifferent in the Old Norse translation that might otherwise have been his source from what wasin the original Latin. The order in which a series of concepts are presented may, however, simply
reflect the natural order in which such concepts presented themselves to the medieval mind. Or,

of course, the order of the concepts and the presence of details not in the extant translations of
the Latin originals may simply be based on fuller translations that have not survived, or on anoral vernacular presentation of them. For even more remarkable is the fact that none of thewriters mentioned has been able to point to any verbal correspondence in Snorri’s work with a
Latin source. It is only the concepts that can be said to be similar. He has no quotations from orreferences to non-Icelandic works, and unlike the priest Ari Þorgilsson he does not scatter Latinwords in his text, or use Latin in his headings (Ari’s surviving work is labelled Libellus
Islandorum). Though he has prologues like Latin writers, Snorri’s prologues do not include thesame standard topics as those of writers in Latin (see Sverrir Tómasson 1988). In his well-known
discussion of the importance of skaldic verse in the prologue to Heimskringla he directly
contradicts the views of most Classical historians, who generally did not regard poetry as
suitable for use as a historical source.
There are two words apparently used by Snorri that seem possibly to be loan-words or loantranslations from Latin. One is the term fornafn, which he uses in his discussion of the rhetoricaldevices of kenning and heiti in Skáldskaparmál, the second part of his Edda. This means‘pronoun’ in Modern Icelandic and seems likely to be a loan-translation or calque of Latin
pronomen. But although there has been much discussion of its exact meaning in Skáldskaparmál,
it certainly does not mean pronoun there (as it does, by the way, in Snorri’s Háttatal). It probably
means the same as Latin pronominatio, for which the more usual term was antonomasia, theGreek term: that is, an expression that stands in place of (for, pro) a proper noun (nomen
proprium). It is not therefore, a third category beside those of kenning and heiti, but refers to
those expressions, whether kennings or heiti, that replace proper nouns or the names ofindividual people. While one might argue that this use of the term speaks for considerable
knowledge of Latin rhetorical theory, in fact I think it supports the opposite view, that someone
who could misuse one of the simplest of Latin grammatical terms like this, and shows noknowledge of any other aspect of Latin grammar or rhetoric, was very ignorant indeed. He has
picked up a term from someone else, while his own rhetorical treatise is quite independent ofclassical rhetorical theory. This is shown most clearly in the fact that he shows almost no interestin metaphor or simile. Most of his explanations of kennings relate them to various pseudohistorical narratives, rather than interpreting them as figures of speech, as with, for instance, thekenning ‘fire of the sea’ for gold, which he claims originated from the time when Ægir, apersonification of the sea, used lýsigull (‘shining gold’) to illuminate his hall when he entertainedthe Æsir to a feast (Skáldskaparmál ch. 33). His explanations, both of kennings and of the myths
that he claims underlie them, are nearly always aetiological (as for instance when Þórr’s drinking
from a horn whose lower end is out in the sea is explained as the origin of tides), as is the casewith most primitive mythology, rather than being based on any kind of symbolism.
The other word which might suggest knowledge of Latin is the title Edda. It is not certain that
Snorri himself gave the work this title. It first appears in the Uppsala Edda, a manuscript written
probably in the first quarter of the fourteenth century, at least sixty years after Snorri’s death (itwas not applied to the so-called Poetic Edda until the seventeenth century, and then as a result ofa misunderstanding about that book’s authorship). As a common noun, edda means great-grandmother in Old Icelandic, and though attempts have been made to derive the title from that wordor alternatively from the Old Icelandic óðr ‘poetry’ or the place-name Oddi, it seems most likelythat the interpretation of the seventeenth-century Icelandic priest Magnús Ólafsson, who
produced the version of the Prose Edda known as the Laufás Edda, which became the basis of
the first printed edition in 1665, is correct, that it is derived from Latin edo just as kredda(‘popularly held belief or superstition’) is clearly based on Latin credo. That is, Edda is ‘a little
book of (or about) poetry’ (see Faulkes 1977; Stefán Karlsson 1971; the doubling of the d makes
the word hypocoristic). It would then be a sort of ironically denigratory term, implying that theProse Edda bore the same relationship to proper (that is Latin) treatises on poetry as Þrándr í
Götu’s kredda in Færeyinga saga to the proper Christian creed. The trouble with this explanationis that edo in Latin does not normally mean ‘compose poetry’. It usually means ‘publish’ or‘produce’, though there are a couple of places in Ovid’s verse where it might mean ‘compose
poetry (about)’. If the name Edda is based on Latin edo, the invention suggests a person with aminimal grasp of the Latin language.
Besides these two words, the three categories in the discussion of verse-forms given at the
beginning of Háttatal, setning, leyfi and fyrirboðning (rule, licence and prohibition), are so
reminiscent of the three divisions of language in Donatus, pars praeceptiva, pars permissiva andpars prohibitiva (preceptive part, permissive part, prohibitive part), that they must be connected.
But the first of the three Latin terms is taken to relate to Donatus’ Books 1 and 2 (on orthography
and grammar) and the second and third to his Book 3 (on figures of speech), while Snorri uses
his Icelandic terms of categories of metre and verse-form. Moreover, while he divides setninginto various sub-categories, he has only a few examples of leyfi, and none of fyrirboðning. It
seems that he had never actually read Donatus.
One of the ideas about pagan gods that has been mentioned most often is euhemerism. This is
the theory attributed to a Greek philosopher Euhemerus (c.300 BC), whose works have notsurvived, but who is thought to have been the first to propose that pagan gods were powerfulkings who came to be worshipped as gods after their deaths. This idea was widespread in the
Middle Ages, usually among historians. Theologians preferred to think of heathen gods as
disguised devils — a concept of which there is actually little trace in Snorri’s writing. The
Prologue to Gylfaginning barely mentions the euhemeristic possibility, and Gylfaginning and
Skáldskaparmál do not really offer any coherent explanation of the heathen gods’ origin, but
euhemerism underlies the presentation of Norse gods in Ynglinga saga, the first section of his
Heimskringla. But Snorri would not have needed to read Latin to get this idea. It is widespread inearlier Icelandic writings such as Ari Þorgilsson’s Book of the Icelanders, and in Skjöldunga
saga, one of Snorri’s acknowledged sources in Heimskringla.
More plausible use of classical sources might be expected to be found in the passages in the
Prologue to Gylfaginning, Gylfaginning chs 9 and 54 and Ynglinga saga that allude to the storyof the Trojan War. He calls Troy inn forni Ásgarðr (the old Ásgarðr or seat of the Æsir, the Norsegods). He says very little else about Troy, and most of what he does say is wrong. He says there
were twelve kingdoms there and one high king, and twelve chief languages (if we do not emend
the text to mean twelve chieftains). The high king was called Priam, but none of the otherpersons he mentions in connection with this part of his narrative have any place in classicallegend. These are Priam’s daughter Troan, her husband Munon or Mennon, their son Tror(‘whom we call Þórr’, he writes), with a foster-father Loricus, ruler of Thrace, and his wife Lora
or Glora. Of Tror he says:
When he was ten he inherited his father’s weapons. He was as beautiful to look at when he came among otherpeople as when ivory is inlaid in oak. His hair is more beautiful than gold. When he was twelve he had reached hisfull strength. Then he lifted from the ground ten bearskins all at once and then he killed his foster-father Loricus andhis wife Lora or Glora and took possession of the realm of Thrace. We call this Þrúðheimr. Then he travelled throughmany countries and explored all quarters of the world and defeated unaided all berserks and giants and one of thegreatest dragons and many wild animals. In the northern part of the world he came across a prophetess called Sibyl,
whom we call Sif, and married her. No one is able to tell Sif’s ancestry. She was the most beautiful of all women,
her hair was like gold. Their son was Loriði

— and then follows the invented genealogy down to Óðinn. This is indeed ein elendes
Machwerk, which has no known source either native or foreign, and appears to be just acollection of conventional elements mainly from fornaldarsögur and Romance sagas. There isalso a passage in Skáldskaparmál (the so-called Epilogue, Faulkes 1998, 6) that mentions somedetails of the Troy story, such the killing of Hector by Achilles, of Achilles by Alexander and of
Priam by Pyrrhus, as well as the actual burning of Troy, which the writer (if it was Snorri: this is
another passage labelled by some editors an interpolation) interprets as the basis of various items
in Norse mythology which are taken to be allegorical retellings of them. Incidentally, this is oneof the very few examples of the use of allegorical interpretation, almost all-pervasive inMedieval Latin writings, in a native Icelandic work; and is therefore suspect. All the accurate
details of the Troy story in this passage could be derived from the Old Norse Trójumanna saga(‘Story of the Trojans’); none of them comes direct from any Latin source. Here again, thepicture is one of a writer who has acquired a smattering of knowledge about Classical literatureand is not above parading it to support his argument about an Old Norse tradition (in this case,the origin of the Æsir in Asia Minor); but no one with any real knowledge of Latin literature
could have written this. A little learning is indeed a dangerous thing. You can easily get foundout.
Allegory becomes all-pervasive in Latin writings during the Middle Ages, and could be said
to be one of the most characteristic ways of thinking and writing. It is also the commonest wayof treating pagan (i.e. Classical) mythology, as in Martianus Capella (fifth century) andFulgentius (early sixth century). These writers also had great influence on various westernvernacular writers. Allegory was particularly used in order to give ancient texts a moral meaning
acceptable to medieval Christianity, and moral allegories were widespread throughout the Middle
Ages, as for instance in versions of Æsop’s Fables. Along with allegory, personification andvarious kinds of symbolism were widespread in narrative, and interpretations of Old Testament
narratives were commonly based on these ways of reading. One of the features of Old Icelandic
prose writing in the Middle Ages that distinguish it, not only from Medieval Latin literature, butalso from most other vernacular traditions, is the almost complete absence of allegory andpersonification as well as of figures of speech. The best-known example of allegory that does
exist in Old Norse prose is the Dedication homily, which appears to be an adaptation of some
Latin text or texts, while in poetry Einarr Skúlason’s Geisli is perhaps the best example.

Unlike Fulgentius and many other Medieval Latin writers, Snorri does not interpret
mythology allegorically, nor does he derive moral teaching from it. The closest he comes is in
the passage in Gylfaginning (ch. 35) on the Ásynjur (goddesses).
Hnoss is the name of their [Freyja and Óðr’s] daughter. She is so beautiful that from her name whatever isbeautiful and precious is called hnossir (treasures) . . . Seventh is Sjöfn. She is much concerned to direct people’s
minds to love, both women and men. It is from her name that affection is called sjafni. Eighth Lofn: she is so kindand good to pray to that she gets leave from All-father or Frigg for people’s union, between women and men, even if
before it was forbidden or refused. Hence it is from her name that it is called lof (permission), as well as whensomething is praised (lofat) greatly by people. Ninth Vár: she listens to people’s oaths and private agreements thatwomen and men make between each other. Thus these contracts are called várar. She also punishes those who breakthem. Tenth Vör: she is wise and enquiring, so that nothing can be concealed from her. There is a saying that awoman becomes aware (vör) of something when she finds it out. Eleventh Syn: she guards the doors of the hall andshuts them against those who are not to enter, and she is appointed as a defence at assemblies against matters that
she wishes to refute. Thus there is a saying that a denial (syn) is made when one says no. Twelfth Hlín: she is given
the function of protecting people whom Frigg wishes to save from some danger. From this comes the saying thatsomeone who escapes finds refuge (hleinir). Thirteenth Snotra; she is wise and courteous. From her name a woman
or man who is a wise person is called snotr.

Neither the first six of the goddesses in Snorri’s account, nor any of the male gods, areinterpreted in this way. It is doubtful whether all the goddesses listed by Snorri were the object ofcults in heathen times. The interpretations I have just quoted are unlikely to be traditional, andthey are actually just folk-etymology of their names rather than real allegories or
personifications. They are very unlike the accounts of pagan figures in Medieval Latin. The only
place in the Prose Edda — or in any of the writings attributed to Snorri Sturluson — where
actual allegory is used is in the so-called Epilogue in Skáldskaparmál (between chs. 1 and 2):
King Priam in Troy was a great ruler over all the host of Turks, and his sons were the highest in rank in his wholehost. That magnificent hall that the Æsir called Brimir’s hall or beer-hall, was King Priam’s hall. And whereas theygive a long account of Ragnarøkr, this is the Trojan war. The story goes that Öku-Þórr used an ox-head as bait andpulled the Midgard serpent up to the gunwale, but the serpent survived by sinking into the sea. This story is based on
the one about how Hector killed the splendid hero Volucrontes (this name, apparently an error for Polypoetes, is only
otherwise found in the Hauksbók version of Trójumanna saga) while the great Achilles was looking on, and thus
lured Achilles towards him with the head of the slain man whom they saw as corresponding to the ox from whichÞórr had taken the head. And when Achilles had been drawn into this dangerous situation by his impetuosity, thenthe only way for him to save his life was to run away from Hector’s deadly stroke, wounded though he was. It is also
said that Hector pressed his attack so violently, and that his valour was raised to such a pitch when he saw Achilles
that there was nothing strong enough to stand before him. And when he missed Achilles and he had fled, he slaked
his wrath by killing a hero called Roddrus (the source of this name is unknown). In the same way the Æsir said thatwhen Öku-Þórr missed the serpent, he killed giant Hymir; and at Ragnarøkr the Midgard serpent came withfrightening suddenness against Þórr and blew poison on him and struck him his death-blow, but the Æsir did not liketo admit that Öku-Þórr had died as a result of one person overthrowing him in death even though such had been thecase, and they exaggerated the story beyond what was true, when they said that the Midgard serpent suffered deaththere. But they adduced this, that though Achilles gained victory over Hector, yet he was to lie dead on the same
field as a result. This was achieved by Helenus and Alexander. This Helenus was called Áli by the Æsir. They saythat he avenged his brother and survived when all the gods were dead and the fire, with which Ásgarðr and all thepossessions of the gods were burned, was extinguished. As for Pyrrhus, they saw him as corresponding toFenriswolf; it killed Óðinn, and Pyrrhus could be said to be a wolf according to their religion, for he paid no respect
to places of sanctuary when he killed the king in the temple in front of Þórr’s altar. What they call Surtr’s fire waswhen Troy burned. And Öku-Þórr’s sons, Móði and Magni, came to claim lands from Áli or Viðarr. The latter is
Aeneas, he escaped from Troy and later achieved great deeds. Similarly it is also said that Hector’s sons arrived in
the land of Phrygia and established themselves in that kingdom, driving Helenus out.

This also is not allegory of the kind found in medieval Latin writers like Fulgentius, for here theNorse gods (and trolls) are taken to be equivalent to Greek and Trojan heroes, and their deeds are
versions of the deeds of those heroes (the technique is rather similar to that of the roman à clef,
whereas in true allegory characters represent abstractions). So this way of reading mythology isclosest to euhemerism: the Greek and Trojan heroes came to be regarded as gods after their
deaths, their deeds were transferred into supernatural ones, and their names changed. It is
nothing like the allegories of Latin tradition, and there is little or no moralisation. The writer ofthis passage, whether is was Snorri or not, had clearly come across allegory, but has not fully
understood how it works. His allegorisation of the Greek story does not give it any coherent nonhistorical meaning. His equivalences are also mostly preposterous, and there are many mistakes
or misunderstandings of the Greek story. It cannot be used as evidence that the author was
greatly acquainted with Medieval Latin tradition.
One of the most striking details in the account of the origin of heathen worship in the
Prologue to Gylfaginning is where the author describes nature worship and comments: ‘En alla
hluti skilðu þeir jarðligri skilningu þvíat þeim var eigi gefin andlig spekðin. Svá skilðu þeir at
allir hlutir væri smíðaðir af nokkuru efni.’ (‘They understood everything with earthly
understanding because they were not granted spiritual wisdom. Thus they assumed that all things
were created out of some material’.) Much of this part of the Prologue is a development of theideas of Psalm 18: 2 (19: 1; ‘The heavens declare the glory of God; and the firmament sheweth
his handywork’), Wisdom 13: 5 (‘For by the greatness and beauty of the creatures
proportionately the maker of them is seen’) and Romans 1: 20 (‘For the invisible things of himfrom the creation of the world are clearly seen, being understood by the things that are made,even his eternal power and Godhead; so that they [the heathen — St Paul is talking about those
who have not received revelation] are without excuse’; see Faulkes 1983, 291). But the final
comment alludes to the debate about creation ex nihilo which goes back at least to the time of

Plato, was still very much alive in the Middle Ages and continues down to the present day. The
Biblical passages I have mentioned were favourite texts for exegesis and sermons in the Middle
Ages, and much of this part of the Prologue could have been derived from a sermon orally
delivered in Iceland in Snorri’s time. Indeed one of the possible sources most often mentioned isthe sixth-century Martin of Braga’s Sermon De correctione rusticorum, parts of which appear in
Old English among Ælfric and Wulfstan’s homilies; Ælfric’s version was translated freely into
Old Norse and is preserved in Hauksbók. Snorri’s account is not closer to the vernacular versions
than to their Latin original, but if he had knowledge of Martin of Braga’s sermon it would havebeen from listening to an oral Old Norse version of it in church or by talking about such mattersto learned friends. And this is how I believe such knowledge as he had of Medieval Latin
theological writings would have come to him. One of his friends was the historian and priest
Styrmir Kárason, later prior at the monastery on Viðey, author of a saga of St Óláfr and of aversion of the Book of Settlements.
I am not trying to denigrate Snorri’s achievement in writing Heimskringla and the Prose
Edda. They are very great works, of enormous intellectual power; very different from Sagas ofKings by clerical writers and from the vernacular treatises on rhetoric by men learned in Latin.
But they are great in spite of — or indeed perhaps because of — the fact that their author was notlearned in the Christian Latin tradition. He was very learned in Scandinavian oral and literary
tradition, and has given us the best accounts of Scandinavian history and poetry there are; andthey are the best because they are not seen through the eyes of a medieval theologian, but
through the eyes of an aristocratic Icelandic layman. My views of Snorri’s intellectual stance(Faulkes 1993), I find, are rather similar to those of Klaus von See (2001).

Anthony Faulkes‘The influence of the Latin Tradition on Snorri Sturluson's writings’
Abstract:
It has usually been assumed that Snorri Sturluson, both as historian and mythographer, was alearned writer, within the tradition of European historiography and the Christian Latin traditionof medieval Europe. His euhemeristic attitude to the pre-Christian pagan religion of Scandinavia
seems to support this, and attempts have been made to interpret his rhetoric, political attitudes
and historical method in the light of contemporary historical writing. But there is little trace ofany knowledge of the Latin language in his works, nor any verbal correspondence with any Latin
texts. His treatment of grammatical categories and of classical legend such as the story of the
Trojan War suggests that he was almost entirely ignorant of Latin tradition on these topics. He
rarely if ever uses any of the characteristic modes of Latin writing, such as allegory or
symbolism, or the classical figures of speech, or any kind of figurative language (in his prose
writings).
It is the contention of this paper that Snorri’s euhemerism is derived from earlier vernacular
writers such as the priest Ari Þorgilsson, and that such knowledge as he had of Christiantheology and Latin writings was derived from oral communications from learned friends, or fromvernacular preaching in churches. His historical, mythological and grammatical learning was
almost exclusively derived from native vernacular writings. He had no Latin learning.
Words:
edda — Latin edo; fornafn — Latin pronomen, pronominatio
setning, leyfi, fyrirboðning — Latin pars praeceptiva, pars permissiva, pars prohibitiva

Quotations:
1. When he was ten he inherited his father’s weapons. He was as beautiful to look at when he came among otherpeople as when ivory is inlaid in oak. His hair is more beautiful than gold. When he was twelve he had reached hisfull strength. Then he lifted from the ground ten bearskins all at once and then he killed his foster-father Loricus andhis wife Lora or Glora and took possession of the realm of Thrace. We call this Þrúðheimr. Then he travelled throughmany countries and explored all quarters of the world and defeated unaided all berserks and giants and one of thegreatest dragons and many wild animals. In the northern part of the world he came across a prophetess called Sibyl,
whom we call Sif, and married her. No one is able to tell Sif’s ancestry. She was the most beautiful of all women,
her hair was like gold. Their son was Loriði . . . (Snorri Sturluson, Edda, translated by Anthony Faulkes, p. 3)

2. Hnoss is the name of their [Freyja and Óðr’s] daughter. She is so beautiful that from her name whatever isbeautiful and precious is called hnossir (treasures) . . . Seventh is Sjöfn. She is much concerned to direct people’s
minds to love, both women and men. It is from her name that affection is called sjafni. Eighth Lofn: she is so kindand good to pray to that she gets leave from All-father or Frigg for people’s union, between women and men, even if
before it was forbidden or refused. Hence it is from her name that it is called lof (permission), as well as whensomething is praised (lofat) greatly by people. Ninth Vár: she listens to people’s oaths and private agreements thatwomen and men make between each other. Thus these contracts are called várar. She also punishes those who breakthem. Tenth Vör: she is wise and enquiring, so that nothing can be concealed from her. There is a saying that awoman becomes aware (vör) of something when she finds it out. Eleventh Syn: she guards the doors of the hall andshuts them against those who are not to enter, and she is appointed as a defence at assemblies against matters that
she wishes to refute. Thus there is a saying that a denial (syn) is made when one says no. Twelfth Hlín: she is given
the function of protecting people whom Frigg wishes to save from some danger. From this comes the saying thatsomeone who escapes finds refuge (hleinir). Thirteenth Snotra; she is wise and courteous. From her name a woman
or man who is a wise person is called snotr. (ibid., pp. 29–30)
3. King Priam in Troy was a great ruler over all the host of Turks, and his sons were the highest in rank in his wholehost. That magnificent hall that the Æsir called Brimir’s hall or beer-hall, was King Priam’s hall. And whereas theygive a long account of Ragnarøkr, this is the Trojan war. The story goes that Öku-Þórr used an ox-head as bait andpulled the Midgard serpent up to the gunwale, but the serpent survived by sinking into the sea. This story is based on
the one about how Hector killed the splendid hero Volucrontes (this name, apparently an error for Polypoetes, is only
otherwise found in the Hauksbók version of Trójumanna saga) while the great Achilles was looking on, and thus
lured Achilles towards him with the head of the slain man whom they saw as corresponding to the ox from whichÞórr had taken the head. And when Achilles had been drawn into this dangerous situation by his impetuosity, thenthe only way for him to save his life was to run away from Hector’s deadly stroke, wounded though he was. It is also
said that Hector pressed his attack so violently, and that his valour was raised to such a pitch when he saw Achilles
that there was nothing strong enough to stand before him. And when he missed Achilles and he had fled, he slaked
his wrath by killing a hero called Roddrus (the source of this name is unknown). In the same way the Æsir said thatwhen Öku-Þórr missed the serpent, he killed giant Hymir; and at Ragnarøkr the Midgard serpent came withfrightening suddenness against Þórr and blew poison on him and struck him his death-blow, but the Æsir did not liketo admit that Öku-Þórr had died as a result of one person overthrowing him in death even though such had been thecase, and they exaggerated the story beyond what was true, when they said that the Midgard serpent suffered death
there. But they adduced this, that though Achilles gained victory over Hector, yet he was to lie dead on the same
field as a result. This was achieved by Helenus and Alexander. This Helenus was called Áli by the Æsir. They saythat he avenged his brother and survived when all the gods were dead and the fire, with which Ásgarðr and all thepossessions of the gods were burned, was extinguished. As for Pyrrhus, they saw him as corresponding toFenriswolf; it killed Óðinn, and Pyrrhus could be said to be a wolf according to their religion, for he paid no respect
to places of sanctuary when he killed the king in the temple in front of Þórr’s altar. What they call Surtr’s fire waswhen Troy burned. And Öku-Þórr’s sons, Móði and Magni, came to claim lands from Áli or Viðarr. The latter is
Aeneas, he escaped from Troy and later achieved great deeds. Similarly it is also said that Hector’s sons arrived in
the land of Phrygia and established themselves in that kingdom, driving Helenus out. (ibid., pp. 65–6)

References:
Walter Baetke (1950): Die Götterlehre der Snorra-Edda. Berlin: Akademie-Verlag (Berichteüber die Verhandlungen der Sächsischen Akademie der Wissenschaften zu Leipzig, Phil.-hist.
Klasse 97, 3).
Jakob Benediktsson (1974): ‘Cursus in Old Norse Literature’, Mediaeval Scandinavia 7, pp. 15–
21.
Ursula and Peter Dronke (1977): ‘The Prologue of the Prose Edda: Explorations of a Latin
Background’, Sjötíu ritgerðir helgaðar Jakobi Benediktssyni, pp. 153–176. Reykjavík:
Stofnun Árna Magnússonar.
Anthony Faulkes (1978–9): ‘Descent from the gods’, Mediaeval Scandinavia 11 [1983], pp. 92–
125.
Anthony Faulkes (1983) : ‘Pagan Sympathy: Attitudes to Heathendom in the Prologue to Snorra
Edda’, in Edda: A Collection of Essays, ed. R. J. Glendinning and H. Bessason, Manitoba, pp.
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