Icelandic literature | Britannica.com Icelandic literature drott-kvaett Icelandic literature, body of writings in Icelandic, including those from Old Icelandic (also called Old Norse) through Modern Icelandic. Icelandic literature is best known for the richness of its classical period, which is equivalent in time to the early and medieval periods in western European literature. The relative stability of the Icelandic language means that Icelanders today can without difficulty still read Old Icelandic sagas. Because early Norwegian literature is so closely intertwined with early Icelandic literature, both are discussed in this article. The Middle Ages The literature of Scandinavia and, in particular, of Iceland has reflected two extraordinary features of the social and cultural history of pagan Europe and of Iceland. The way in which names such as Siegfried , Brunhild , and Atli (Attila) cropped up again and again in different European literatures has borne witness to the dissemination of legends and traditions common to the early Germanic tribes of Europe, starting from the great movements westward in the 4th, 5th, and 6th centuries. The literature of Iceland not only provides the most detailed descriptions available of the lifestyle of early Germanic peoples but constitutes the most complete account of their literature and literary traditions.

Although the sagas and poems were first written down by Christian scribes, they present a picture of a pre-Christian European culture that reached its heights of expression in the new settlements in Iceland. A second feature directly concerns the peoples of Scandinavia. A remarkable characteristic of early Scandinavian literature was the accuracy with which it described the geography of northern Europe, accuracy that was born of actual knowledge. From the late 8th century until well into the Middle Ages, the history of the Norsemen ( Vikings ) was one of unceasing movement toward western and central Europe. The Norsemen discovered Iceland, as early Icelandic historians had it, when their ships were blown off course about 860. The next century found them pushing west by way of Britain, Ireland, and France to Spain and then through the Mediterranean to North Africa and east to Arabia. Across land they reached the Black Sea; by sailing north they came to the White Sea; and finally, turning westward again, they reached America long before Columbus. Literature in Iceland and Norway Similar Topics Tibetan literature The roots of Icelandic literature and Norwegian literature, which reach back more than 1,000 years, are inextricably intertwined.

Although a large part of this early literature was composed either in Iceland or elsewhere in Scandinavia by Icelanders, the Norwegian element in it is considerable and indisputable, even though this cannot always be isolated and defined. In many instances, it is obvious that some of the literature derives from a time before the Scandinavian settlement of Iceland in the 9th century. In other cases, it appears that the composers of the works had resided for long periods in the mother country of Norway. The classical period The best-known Icelandic literature belongs to the classical period, roughly equivalent to the early and medieval periods in western European literature. Icelandic manuscripts yield much knowledge of European myth and legend , which is in part common to all Germanic peoples. Stories of the Norse gods and myths—of Odin , god of war; Balder the Beautiful; Thor , god of thunder; and Valhalla , hall of the slain—form the nucleus of early Icelandic literature. Almost all extant early Scandinavian poetry was recorded in Icelandic manuscripts, although some was clearly composed before the Scandinavian peoples reached Iceland in the late 9th century. Much of the oldest poetry was recorded in the Codex Regius manuscript, which contains the Sæmundar Edda (c.

1270), commonly designated by scholars as the Poetic Edda , or Elder Edda (see Edda ). The poetry is sometimes called Eddaic and falls into two sections: heroic lays, which, broadly speaking, deal with the world of mortals; and mythological lays, which deal with the world of the gods. The heroic lays United States presidential election of 1860 Iceland’s adoption of Christianity in 1000 opened the way for powerful influences from western Europe. Missionaries taught Icelanders the Latin alphabet, and they soon began to study in the great schools of Europe. One of the first was Ísleifr, who, after being educated and ordained a priest, was consecrated bishop. His school at Skálholt in southern Iceland was for many centuries the chief bishopric and a main centre of learning. The earliest remembered historian is Sæmundr the Wise, but Ari Þorgilsson is regarded as the father of historiography in the vernacular . A short history, Īslendingabók (or Libellus Islandorum, c.

1125; The Book of the Icelanders), and the more detailed Landnámabók (“Book of Settlements”) are associated with his name. Extant works of the period are few or anonymous. Annals of contemporary events date from the 13th century and the oldest religious manuscripts, consisting of homilies and saints’ lives, from c. 1150. Larger collections of religious literature appeared in late 12th- and early 13th-century manuscripts. As elsewhere in Europe, the most popular books were often lives of the Apostles and saints. The sagas The word saga is used in Icelandic for any kind of story or history, whether written or oral. In English it is typically used to refer more precisely to the biographies of a hero or group of heroes written in Iceland between the12th and the 15th century. These heroes were most often kings of Norway, early founders of Iceland, or legendary Germanic figures of the 4th to the 8th century. The oldest saga is the fragmentary Ólafs saga helga (“Saga of St. Olaf”), written about 1180.

In form it is a hagiographic narrative, laying emphasis on miracles worked through the agency of the saint. It was probably written in the monastery of Þingeyrar, which played an important part in cultural life in the late 12th and early 13th centuries. Several sagas about King Olaf I Tryggvason , at whose instigation the Icelanders adopted Christianity, were also written at Þingeyrar, where the work of the monks was fanciful rather than realistic. A more critical style of history was established in the south by Sæmundr and Ari, and several notable works were written at Skálholt or nearby in the 13th century, such as the Hungrvaka (“The Appetizer”), a short history of the bishops of Skálholt from Ísleifr to Kloengr. In the late 12th century several short histories of Norwegian kings were taken from Norway to Iceland, where they influenced Icelandic historians. The Ágriþ , a summary of the histories, or sagas, of Norwegian kings, written in the vernacular in Norway, was particularly influential. The Fagrskinna (“Fine Skin”; Eng. trans.

Fagrskinna) covered the same period in more detail, while the Morkinskinna (“Rotten Skin”; Eng. trans. Morkinskinna), probably written earlier, covered the period from Magnus I Olafsson (ruled 1035–47) to the late 12th century. Snorri Sturluson wrote many kinds of works and played an important role in political wrangles in his time. Among works ascribed to him are the Snorra Edda (c. 1225), a handbook of prosody and poetic diction commonly referred to as the Prose Edda , or Younger Edda. He twice visited Norway, and a large part of his work consists of lives of its early kings: he combined his Ólafs saga with lives of other Norwegian kings to form the Heimskringla (c. 1220; “Orb of the World”; Eng. trans. Heimskringla). The value of these as historical sources has long been debated. Snorri was certainly well read in vernacular history and attempted to write faithful accounts of what he had read in earlier records.

But he did not aim to write history in the modern sense of the term, as an analytical reconstruction of past events; his work was creative and therefore portrayed his heroes imaginatively. The stirring Egils saga (on the skald Egill Skallagrímsson) is attributed to Snorri. The Icelanders’ sagas The Icelanders’ sagas (also called family sagas) are about heroes who supposedly lived in the 10th and 11th centuries. Their origins are unclear, and it is debatable whether they are faithful records of history. One theory has suggested that they were composed in the 11th century and transmitted orally until written down in the 13th century; though researchers now reject this view, it is true that the sagas owed much to oral tales and the tradition of oral verse. Their historicity is difficult to verify, since their content and form were shaped both by the sources used and by the author’s intentions. It is also difficult to determine the date of many of the sagas. The obviously early works are somewhat crudely structured and express Norse ideals of loyalty and heroism.

The Gísla saga , written before the middle of the 13th century, shows the development of artistic skill and contains rich descriptions of nature and verses of considerable beauty and tragic feeling; it tells of the poet Gísli Súrsson (died c. 980). The Laxdæla saga (“Saga of the Men of Laxárdal”), written a few years later, is a delicately worked tragedy in which the author shows an unusual appreciation of visual beauty. One work that is clearly its author’s creation was the Hrafnkels saga Freysgoða (“Saga of Hrafnkell, Freyr’s Priest”): despite realistic detail, the saga contains little historical fact. As the 13th century progressed, a taste for fantastic and romantic elements grew. The Grettis saga (“Saga of Grettir the Strong”) includes several motifs from folklore and portrays a hero fighting against trolls and ghosts. The greatest of Icelanders’ sagas, the Njáls saga , has in fact two heroes, Njáll, who is wise, prudent, and endowed with prophetic gifts, and Gunnar , who is young and inexperienced.

Njáll embodies traditional Norse ideals of loyalty and bravery yet faces his death by burning with the resignation of a Christian martyr . The heroic sagas The fantastic element was further developed in the fornaldarsǫgur , literally “sagas of antiquity,” whose heroes were supposed to have lived in Scandinavia and Germany before Iceland was settled. The best known, the Vǫlsunga saga (c. 1270), uses prose stories adapted from heroic lays to describe Sigurd (Siegfried), the Burgundians, and the Ostrogoth king Jǫrmunrekr ( Ermanaric ). The Hrólfs saga kraka (c. 1280–1350) incorporated ancient traditions about Danish and Swedish heroes who also appeared in the Old English poems “ Widsith ” and Beowulf. Many of the works on contemporary history were combined about 1300 in the Sturlunga saga, including the Íslendinga saga by Sturla Þórðarson . Translations from Latin A quantity of secular literature was translated from Latin between the 12th and the 14th century.

The “Prophecies of Merlin,” already translated in verse by a Þingeyrar monk, were combined with a complete translation of Geoffrey of Monmouth’s Historia regum Britanniae (1135–38; History of the Kings of Britain) and titled Breta sǫgur (“Stories of the Britons”). In one 14th-century manuscript this was preceded by the Trójumanna saga (“Story of the Trojans”), translated from a supposed eyewitness account of the Trojan War attributed to the Trojan priest Dares Phrygius . A Norwegian translation of the Bible was begun in the reign (1299–1319) of Haakon V Magnusson . Romances Romances were also translated or adapted from Continental romances. Interest in the romance genre began in Norway and soon took root in Iceland. The earliest romance was probably the Tristrams saga (1226), derived from a late 12th-century adaptation of the Tristan and Isolde legend by the Anglo-Norman poet Thomas.

This was followed by the Karlamagnús saga (“Saga of Charlemagne”), a collection of prose renderings of French chansons de geste , including a Norse version of the French epic La Chanson de Roland . Romances in Icelandic were numerous, and their effect on the style of later writers is evident in such sagas as the Laxdæla saga and Grettis saga. Postclassical literature in Iceland In the period following the classical age, little was written that attracted attention outside Iceland. Realism and detached objectivity declined, and sentimentality and fantasy gained the upper hand. The shift—often characterized as a decline—in literary standards is sometimes attributed to Iceland’s loss of independence in 1262 and the changes that followed. Interest in earlier manuscripts continued, and many manuscript collections of 13th-century material were made during the 14th and 15th centuries. The most beautiful of all Icelandic manuscripts, the Flateyjarbók (c. 1390), includes versions of sagas of Olaf I Tryggvason and St. Olaf, together with texts from other sagas or about heroes associated with Iceland.

Prose Prose literature of the 14th century includes several sagas. Among them are the Finnboga saga ramma (“Saga of Finnbogi the Strong”), about a 10th-century hero, and a saga that tells the love story of its hero Víglundr. Sagas about bishops, already a theme in the 13th century, became more numerous, as did lives of foreign saints. A large collection of exempla ( moral tales) was also made, each short tale illustrating some moral precept. Poetry Much poetry was written up to the time of the Reformation, in the 16th century, and many new forms were devised. The best poems were religious pieces, in honour of the Virgin Mary , the Apostles, or other saints. The well-known Lilja (c. 1350; “The Lily”; Eng. trans. Lilja) by Eysteinn Ásgrímsson , a monk from Þykkvabær, gives an account of the fall of Satan, the Creation, the Fall of Man, and the birth, life, and Passion of Christ.

The term rímur —rhymes—is used to describe the narrative poetry developed after 1500 that consist of mainly end-rhymed four-line strophes. The metrical forms, although apparently derived from Latin hymns, inherited the alliterative system (see alliterative verse ) of earlier poetry. Ballads written in Icelandic never attained the popularity of Danish ballads in Denmark or achieved the high standard of the Norwegian “ Draumkvæde ” (“Dream Ballad”). Most of those preserved date from the 14th to the 16th century and are free translations of Danish and Norwegian originals. The Reformation in Iceland In Iceland the chief political figure and poet of the Reformation was Jón Arason , the last Roman Catholic bishop of Hólar, beheaded in 1550. By his life he showed that he was a Viking as well as a martyr, although most of his surviving poetry is religious. As a result of the Reformation and its effects on Icelandic learning and literature, Catholic poetry was discarded, and the first Lutheran bishops attempted to replace it with hymns poorly translated from Danish and German.

Lutheran teachers instructed the people in Protestant dogma , and several translations of sermons and books of instruction by German Lutherans were printed in Icelandic from as early as 1540. Guðbrandur Þorláksson was the most energetic of the Lutheran teachers. In translating the Bible into Icelandic, he used earlier Icelandic versions of some books of the Old Testament and Oddur Gottskálksson ’s Icelandic translation of the New Testament . In his psalmbook Þorláksson showed appreciation of Icelandic poetic tradition and adhered to Icelandic alliteration and form. Page 1 of 2 Hurstwic: Norse Literature Stories, Poems, and Literature from the Viking Age 13th century Icelandic manuscript Our knowledge of the Viking people comes from several sources. One valuable source is the literature from the period. Norse people loved stories, and some of the stories and poems they themselves wrote, and that their descendants wrote still survive. Stories about the Norsemen were also written by their contemporaries, including both their trading partners (such as the Arabs) and the victims of their raids (such as the Christian clerics who kept the historical records in Europe). This section describes written records the Viking-age people left behind.

Language The Norsemen spoke Old Norse, which they called dönsk tunga (the Danish tongue). With minor variations, this language was spoken throughout the Norse lands during the Viking period. Old Norse is one of ten branches that make up the Indo-European family of languages which have been spoken throughout Europe and southern Asia for the last 3000 years. Old Norse is the root language from which the modern Scandinavian languages descended, and is a close relative of modern English, Dutch, and German. During the period from 550-750 AD, rapid linguistic changes occurred, which separated the Norse from other Germanic people on the European continent to the south and west. During the Viking age, language was no barrier to communication across the Norse lands; from Greenland to the Baltic, nearly the same language was spoken throughout. However, there is evidence that, despite the common language, a man's homeland could be identified by his speech. Some scholars today would go further and say that by the start of the Norse era, significant differences already existed between East Norse (Sweden and Denmark) and West Norse (Norway and the Atlantic settlements such as Iceland) dialects.

If you would like to learn Old Icelandic, the language of the sagas and eddas, please consider joining us for our annual Hurstwic Old Norse Language Bootcamp , an intensive weekend-long introduction to the language. Writing and Runes The futhork runic "alphabet" (so called for the sounds of the first six letters in the runic row) was in wide use throughout northern Europe from roughly the 3rd to the 12th century. At first, 24 letters were used, but in the 9th century, the futhork alphabet was simplified to 16 letters, beginning in Denmark, then rapidly spreading throughout the region. Many variations of the futhork rune row were used; one of the Danish variants is shown above. In the same way that a modern reader of English would recognize all these glyphs as representing an upper case "G", a Viking-age reader would recognize the many ways a rune might be represented. The runes consist of straight lines, typically in the form of a vertical (a stave) with diagonal branches (twigs). The lack of any curves makes the runes easy to carve into wood, bone, or stone, which were the normal writing materials among the Norse.

Runes are found carved graffiti-like into historical buildings and statuary not just in northern Europe, but all across the continent, clearly showing the extent to which the Norsemen roamed over Europe. The marble lion shown in the sketch to the left is from outside Piraeus, near Athens, Greece, where some unknown Norse traveler carved runic graffiti into the shoulder of the beast. Judging from the number of inscriptions found on stones in Nordic lands that were clearly intended to be seen and read, and from the number of everyday objects inscribed with runes, it is possible that much of the Norse population could read runes. Many of the inscriptions are in the form of memorial stones, such as those illustrated below on this page. These stones are highly public memorials. There's scarcely any reason to erect them if most of the population could not read them. Many everyday objects are found inscribed with the owner's name, or the maker's name, or other messages. The spindle whorl shown to the left (used for spinning yarn ) is inscribed with the owner's name, Viborg. Runic inscriptions have been found ranging from trade and legal documents such as bills of sale, all the way to coarse lavatory scribblings.

Some runic inscriptions are clearly just for fun; a comb was found inscribed "I am a comb". Some inscriptions may have been the equivalent of "Post-It" notes; one wooden runestick from Bergen is inscribed: "Gytha says come home". Additional evidence of widespread literacy comes from the old Icelandic literature. In an episode from Morkinskinna (ch 34), it was not considered the least bit remarkable that a poor, unnamed Icelander from the northern quarter was able to read the inscription on a buried treasure chest. In chapter 18 of Vï¿½gilundar saga, Ketilrï¿½ï¿½'s father Hï¿½lmkell left a rune stick on the path where Vï¿½glundur and Trausti were sure to find it as they rode to the ship that would take them away from Iceland. On the stick were Ketilrï¿½ï¿½'s words saying she wanted to marry no other man but Vï¿½gilundur. There was no question that Vï¿½gilundur would be able to read the message.

ï¿½ï¿½rï¿½ur challenged Klaufi to a wrestling match via a message on a rune stick in chapter 12 of Svarfdï¿½la saga. Interestingly, just two chapters later, Klaufi and Grï¿½s found runes carved on a ship naming the skipper, which Klaufi was unable to read. He demanded that Grï¿½s read them. Wooden writing tablets provide additional evidence of the widespread use of runic writing among ordinary people. The tablet shown in the photos is a modern reproduction. The historic tablets are about 20-30cm high (about 8-12 in) and were filled with blackened wax within their raised borders. A pointed iron stylus was used to write in the wax (top right). The reproduction stylus in the photos is set in an antler which allows a nice grip and which can be used to smooth the wax and erase unwanted writing (bottom right). The wooden surface of historical tablets from the Norse era bear marks where the stylus broke through the wax, and the marks show that the runic alphabet was being used.

These tablets are more commonly found in rural areas, rather than in towns, suggesting that even remote farm dwellers could read and write runes. On the other hand, objects have been found inscribed with runes which appear to be utter nonsense, or filled with errors. Perhaps it made perfect sense to the craftsman who made the object. Or perhaps, realizing that the object he just made needed to decorated with runes, but not knowing the futhork, the artisan simply made up something rune-like. The medium of choice for runic inscriptions was probably a stick or scrap of wood, which explains why few runic inscriptions are found today. Extraordinary conditions are required for the preservation of these wood scraps over the centuries since the Norse era. The runic writing shown to the right is one of a number of wooden merchant's markers excavated in Bergen. It indicates the owner's name, and was meant to be stuck in or tied to a pile of merchandise. It can be difficult to transcribe and translate runic writings. One difficulty is that there are more sounds in the language than there are runes to represent them. Thus a single character could represent one of several sounds.

Another difficulty is the variations in the various futhork alphabets that were in use during the period. Further, archaic or otherwise unknown words were used in runic inscriptions. Runes were frequently incorporated into the zoomorphic designs (left) favored by the Norse. Additionally, every effort was made to reduce the space required to inscribe the message and the number of runes that needed to be carved. So, for example, if a rune repeated, only the first rune was carved and the second discarded. Generally, there were no breaks between words or between sentences. Runes could be written left to right or right to left. The "facing" of the runes makes it clear which way to read. For inscriptions longer than one line, alternating lines were frequently written in opposite directions, first leftwards, then rightwards. Sometimes, the lines bent around at the end, so that one line reads left to right and the next line right to left and upside down. The effect is shown with English text using Roman letters to the right. Some rune stones (such as the Rï¿½k stone shown to the left) have text crammed onto every surface of the stone, with lines reading upwards, downwards, leftwards, and rightwards.

Further, runes could be coded into other figures, called cryptic runes. The intent is not always clear. Perhaps it was meant to highlight a portion of the text, or to show off the skill of the person carving the runes. And perhaps it was meant to hide the meaning of the text to those who did not now how the runes were encoded. One example of cryptic runes are skiprúnar (ship runes), where the twigs adorn the stem and stern of the ship. The number of twigs in a figure indicated two numbers. The rune was coded by these two numbers. The first represented a particular ætt (grouping of runes within the futhork), and the second indicated which rune in the grouping was meant. Shown to the right are two figures from a series of cryptic runes in an Icelandic manuscript. Portion of rune stone with several same-stave runes Same-stave rune with missing portion restored Same-stave rune separated into individual runes Transcription into Roman letters Another example of cryptic runes is same-stave runes, in which all of the twigs branch from a single stave. The composite image to the left shows an example of this kind of runic inscription.

The left image shows a small portion of the Sønder Kirkeby stone in Denmark that uses same-stave runes for a portion of its message. The stave of interest in this example is the second from the left. The stone was damaged in this region, and a portion of this stave is missing. This part of the stone is shown in the second image, with a speculative reconstruction of the missing portion. The individual runes are shown in the next column, and the transcription into the Roman alphabet in the final column. The complete message is ï¿½orr vigi runar, or "ï¿½orr hallow the runes". Another form of cryptic runes is visible at the top of the Rï¿½k stone, above left. With the coming of Christianity, and its educated clergy reading and writing Latin, runes were displaced by the Roman alphabet (modified to fit the needs of the various northern European languages), written with pen and ink on vellum. However, runes continued to be used for many centuries, since the materials for runic writing were always readily at hand: everyone carried a knife, and a stick could be picked up from anywhere. The Viking-age people did not develop a written culture until the arrival of the church.

In the Viking age, runes were used for short notes only. The Viking culture was oral, and long works were remembered using poetry. Runes certainly could have been used for longer messages in the same way as Roman characters, but they were not. Perhaps the Norse people saw no need to preserve long works in written form, even though everything was in place to do so. Only a single rune stone containing a complete poem survives, although many stones contain individual verses. In chapter 78 of Egils saga, ï¿½orgerï¿½ur asked her father Egill to compose a memorial poem, telling him she would carve the verses into a rune stick (rï¿½sta ï¿½ kefli). Whether that was common practice or not is conjectural. The Rï¿½k stone is an extraordinary rune stone over four meters high (13 feet) and is covered on all five sides with runic inscriptions. The front (and the beginning of the inscription) is shown to the left, and the reverse is shown in the photo above left. Many of the rune stones, particularly later ones, are memorial stones, which commerated the dead and may have served as declarations of inheritance.

The purpose of the Rok stone is subject to debate, but may well be a memorial stone, as well. Poetry Surviving poems show a wide range of topics and tones: respectful and reverent; boastful and proud; witty and humorous; threatening and defiant; vile and obscene. However, scurrilous or satirical poems were banned because of the injury they caused to the subject and to his reputation. Poems, being a divine gift from Óðin (the highest of the gods), were thought to have special power. Poems had the power to bestow honor on a worthy man and to remove honor from a wretch. A skillful poet could earn a valuable reward from a generous king, or save his head from an angry king, by creating a well composed poem. Poems praising a woman were banned, both because of the publicity and the possible effect it might have on her reputation, but also because of possible spell binding effects the poem might have. (Surviving love poems suggest the ban was regularly ignored.) On hearing certain kinds of poetry (for instance, poetry implying that a man was womanish), a man was at liberty to kill the person reciting the poem.

The proscribed types of poetry are described in the medieval Icelandic lawbook Grï¿½gï¿½s (K 238). Norse poetry does not have the regular rhythm and end-rhyme that one conventionally associates with poetry, but rather uses alliteration and irregular stress which falls on the most significant words in each line. Norse poetry can be divided into three classes, depending on form and content. Rune poems were usually inscribed on monuments and serve to praise an individual. They are brief and usually have a simple meter and style. Eddic poems describe the Norse gods and ancient Norse heroes and their exploits. Eddic poetry also has relatively simple meter and style. The stories are exciting, packed with action, and frequently contain valuable object lessons. Little can be said about the development of eddic poetry, but it was probably in place and in use at the start of the Viking age. Skaldic poems typically praise the deeds of notable people, and they were usually written during the lifetime of the person being praised. While some of the surviving skaldic poetry dates from the medieval period, many of the poems are believed to date from the Viking age.

The Rï¿½k runestone shown above on this page records one stanza of skaldic poetry and dates from the middle of the 9th century. The Karlevi runestone shown to the right is the only skaldic verse in the elaborate drï¿½ttkvï¿½tt meter known to have been written down in the Viking age. It dates from roughly the year 1000 and is located in ï¿½land in Sweden. While the eddic poetry is uniformly anonymous, much of the surviving skaldic poetry is credited to a particular poet at a particular place and time. The skaldic poems have complicated meters, strict patterns of alliteration, and ornate metaphoric language, with wordplay to delight the sophisticated listener. The poems usually celebrate the exploits of a particular king or leader. Since, in the Viking age, exaggeration was considered to be mockery, and since mockery was considered a lethal insult, these poems are thought to be reliable testimony to the events, even though (in some cases) they weren't committed to writing for centuries after their composition. Unfortunately, the factual information in such poetry tends to be limited.

Skaldic poetry uses a variety of circumlocutions, such as kennings. A kenning uses a phrase as a metaphor to represent an idea. The usual form is a noun, qualified by another noun in the genitive case. For instance sweat of the sword is used to mean blood, or horse of the sea to mean ship. Some of the kennings can only be understood by someone with an extensive knowledge of the culture and of the great stories. For example, flame of the Rhine is used to mean gold but would probably be understood only by someone who is familiar with the Völsunga saga in which the great gold treasure of the Vï¿½lsungar ended up at the bottom of the river Rhine. Kennings can have multiple levels. For example, a poet might use a kenning for gold, and then use that phrase in place of the word "gold" in yet another kenning, such as flame of the sea-stead's path. Sea-stead's (ship) path is water, so flame of the water refers to gold. Some kennings depend on hyperbole. Enemy of gold refers to a man who does not like gold and gives it away: a generous man.

Some kennings take the form of puns, such as using sky of the eel to represent ice in identifying someone as an Icelander. The form of Norse poetry is complicated beyond the wordplay of the kennings. The need to fit strict rules of alliteration and rhyming and rhythm result in verses in which multiple ideas are being formed simultaneously. (This concept is illustrated on the skaldic stanza page.) Because Icelandic is a highly inflected language (word forms change depending on their usage in a sentence), it's possible to jumble the word order yet retain the meaning of a sentence. Norse visual arts share this property (left). Exceedingly complicated forms are used all over a figure to create a single unified image. It's been suggested that this similarity between poetry and visual arts derives from the same underlying sensibility, some innate appreciation of the baroque form in Norse culture. Because of its complexity and wordplay, I wonder whether skaldic poetry could be understood by a listener hearing a verse for the first time. There are examples in the stories that support this belief, such as chapter 18 of Gï¿½sla saga.

ï¿½ï¿½rdï¿½s overheard a verse spoken by her brother, Gï¿½sli , in which he took credit for the killing of her husband, ï¿½orgrï¿½mr. Not until she returned home did ï¿½ï¿½rdï¿½s interpret the verse and understand its meaning. I may be overstating my case. At least one scholar of skaldic poetry has told me that he believes the verses were easily understood by a listener in the saga age. Additionally, in an oral culture, it would be important to recall poetry without error. Because of the complexities of Norse verse, a defect in a recalled verse would be immediately apparent, since the rhyme, rhythm, or alliteration would no longer work. Any erroneous substitution would stand out. Thus, the complexity of the verse acted as a mnemonic aid to help recall the verse and to identify errors. This built-in error detection was one of the reasons that information conveyed by poetry during the Viking age was thought to be more reliable than information in prose. The 12th century authors who first wrote the histories and stories of Iceland viewed the words of poets to be more authoritative than other oral sources.

Some modern scholars disagree, and they suggest that in oral form, even poetry is unlikely to remain unchanged over long periods of time. Literature Many of the important poems were composed in the 9th through 12th century. These were part of the oral tradition, and were kept alive by repetition as they were passed from one generation to another. Poetry was likely a major form of entertainment for the Norse. Poets were held in high regard, not only for their ability to improvise poetic entertainment on the spot, but also because they were the repository of the shared cultural experience. They were the vessel through which the culture was passed from generation to generation. Once committed to poetry, a thought was expected to last "as long as the land is inhabited" or "as long as the Norse language is spoken". Story-telling was a popular entertainment wherever people gathered. Fï¿½stbrï¿½ï¿½ra saga says in chapter 23 that ï¿½orgrï¿½mr Einarsson told a story while sitting on his chair in front of his booth at the ï¿½ing. People sat all around him, listening to his tale.

When an unexpected downpour forced everyone to leave and seek shelter, ï¿½ormï¿½ï¿½r took advantage of the opportunity and killed ï¿½orgrï¿½mr. Beginning in the 12th century, educated men in Iceland, where the oral tradition was strongest, began to write down the important stories. Iceland was unique among European countries at this time in having a population comprised of a large number of relatively free, land-owning farmers. These men had the means to commission the creation of books in their own language, rather than in Latin as was the rule throughout the rest of Europe. The oral story-telling tradition of the Icelanders also favored writings in the vernacular. A wide variety of material was written down in the Icelandic language. One of the first books to be written in the northern lands was the Icelandic law codes, begun in the year 1117. Prior to this time, the law codes were remembered and recited orally by the law speaker (lögsögumaður) at the Alï¿½ing.

A short time later, a history of Iceland was written known as ï¿½slendingabï¿½k (the Book of Icelanders) by Ari frï¿½ï¿½i (the learned) around the year 1130. Scholars wrote books describing how to use Roman letters to represent the sounds of the Icelandic language. The First Grammatical Treatise was followed by three others. The genealogy and history of Icelandic settlers were written down in Landnï¿½mabï¿½k (the Book of Settlement)s. European literature was translated into Icelandic, including stories of the lives of saints, and learned books on topics including astronomy, natural history, and geography. Travel books were written by Icelandic visitors to Europe. New stories were written to commemorate the exploits of kings or other great leaders. Some of these books were in the form of histories, such as Heimskringla, a history of the kings of Norway.

Others described contemporary events, such as the sagas of the lives of Icelandic bishops, and Sturlunga saga, a compilation of sagas describing the events in the turbulent times when the sons of Sturla ï¿½ï¿½rï¿½arson were changing the political landscape of the Iceland. Icelanders also wrote down the stories of their ancestors. These Íslendingasögur (Sagas of Icelanders, also called family sagas) remain compelling and entertaining reading today. They are a unique and new form of story-telling unlike anything that preceded them. Most of these sagas are thought to have been composed between 1200 and 1400. These stories tell of the tales of farmers and chieftains living in Iceland from the 9th through the 12th century. Many of them follow families for generation after generation, from the settlement era to the commonwealth period in Iceland's history. They are distinctive in that they tell heroic tales not about heroes, but about just plain folks: the early Icelanders. Although distorted by the time that separates the events depicted and the writing of the stories, the family sagas present one of the best pictures we have of Norse society.

We know the names of only a very few of the writers of these works. It was not customary to put the author's name on the manuscript. However, one author who can be identified with some certainty is Snorri Sturluson (1179-1241). A 20th century sculpture of Snorri by Vigeland is shown to the left. Snorri feared that the tradition of composing poetry to commemorate great men and great events was dying. For this, and other reasons, he wrote the Snorra edda, a four part textbook on writing skaldic poetry. The book summarizes Norse mythology (necessary for the poet to understand the kennings), teaches the language of poetry, and presents examples of the various verse forms. The illustration to the right is from the section Gylfaginning (the tricking of Gylfi), showing Gylfi in a contest of wisdom with three ï¿½sir. The book not only provides us with a unique overview of the Norse mythology, but Snorri quotes excerpts from poems and stories as examples of proper form and technique.

In most cases, the full works are now lost, so the quotes from Snorra edda are the only way we have any knowledge of these stories. Over the centuries, the original manuscripts of the old stories were copied, transcribed, combined, interpolated, and edited. Material was deleted and new material written to bridge the gap. In some cases, the original stories may have been distorted, but in some cases, the stories may well have been improved. None of the surviving manuscripts represent the "original" version of the stories as set down by the first author. All the surviving manuscripts date from well after the time the stories were written down. Thus, each tells a different version of the story. Both early and late manuscripts survive for some stories, and occasionally, the differences are quite significant. In some cases, bored copyists may simply have made scribal errors. Many of the copies are thought to have been made at the monastery at ï¿½ingeyrar. (The ï¿½ingeyrar church is shown as it appears today to the left). The monastery held one of medieval Iceland's largest libraries, and it's likely that some of the histories and sagas were composed there, as well.

Like the poetry, the form of some of these sagas is complicated. Seemingly unrelated plot lines and characters are introduced and dropped and "stranded", only to be picked up later. But the sagas are a "verbal braid" of many strands whose meaning is not stated outright, but implied by the various juxtapositions and intersections. A Norse author of the time compared it to running water, which flows from many sources, yet all comes together to flow into a single place, the sea. The sagas are narrated in a sparse, objective style. The author rarely tells anything that could not be observed by a witness. Any internal thoughts or emotions a character might have are revealed to the reader through behavior or dialog observable by a witness. The author rarely explains or judges characters or events and rarely intrudes on the narrative. The stories survive today in the form of hand written manuscripts on vellum and (Iater) on paper, dating from the 13th through the 17th century. Scholars combed Iceland during the 17th and 18th century in search of surviving manuscripts. One of the best known of these scholars was the Icelander Árni Magnússon (right).

When found, the manuscripts were brought to Denmark (which governed Iceland at that time) for preservation. Tragically, fire swept through Copenhagen in 1728. While the best manuscripts were saved, many lesser works were lost. Of the Sagas of Icelanders, about 80 works survive, ranging from short-story length (called ï¿½ï¿½ttur) to long-novel length. Some of the manuscripts survive only in a single copy. For instance, most of the poems in The Elder Edda exist only in the manuscript called the Codex Regius. (A portion of a leaf of the Codex Regius is shown to the right.) On the other hand, seven manuscripts or fragments of Snorri Sturluson's Edda survive. Today, most of the manuscripts have been repatriated to Iceland for safekeeping at Stofnun ï¿½rna Magnï¿½ssonar (the Árni Magnússon Institute) in Reykjavík (left). The accuracy of the sagas (especially the Icelandic family sagas) has long been debated. They were not written down until centuries after the events they depict took place.

We don't know the authors of any of the sagas. We don't know where or when they were written. Are they factual records or simply stories and legends to while away the hours on long winter nights? Are they a wistful look backwards from the turbulence of the Sturlunga era and the loss of Icelandic independence (in which they were written) back to the golden age of Iceland's settlement (in which they are set)? Are they literary creations, composed by an author, or merely the written transcription of an older oral narrative? In some ways, I feel unqualified to step into this scholarly debate and so prefer to use the term "historical novel". On one hand, one takes a risk when one uses a saga as a primary reference or as a source of "facts". On the other hand, the sagas clearly are a valuable resource for information about society and culture and behavioral norms during the Viking age in Iceland. Our Viking combat research at Hurstwic is an example where the sagas, when combined with other sources, seem to be a very credible source, as discussed in the Hurstwic arms and armor article on sources of information .

A (somewhat dated) introduction to the Sagas of Icelanders and their use as a historical source is available here (700KB pdf file). Spelling and Pronunciation The original documents that form the basis for our knowledge of this period were written in Old Icelandic, not far removed from Old Norse, the language spoken throughout northern Europe during the period. The written Icelandic language has changed comparatively little over the centuries, such that modern speakers of Icelandic have less trouble reading the sagas in the original than do modern speakers of English reading Shakespeare, despite the sagas being twice as old. (However, I've recently been told by Icelanders that I overstate the case; the archaic vocabulary and phrasing make it difficult for modern Icelanders to read the sagas in the original.) Throughout these pages, I've tried to use the Icelandic spelling of names and places. As my knowledge of the language has increased, I've tried to be careful about usage and spelling, but I know I have not been consistent. Limitations in the characters available in HTML require me to use modern Icelandic substitutes in place of some of the old Norse characters. The Icelandic language has many sounds not present in modern English, and so it uses additional characters to represent those sounds.

There are two additional consonants. "Thorn" (ï¿½ ï¿½) which represents the sound "th" as in Thor, and "edh" (ï¿½ ï¿½) which represents the sound "th" as in father. There are many additional vowel sounds, which are represented by accents (such as ï¿½), ligatures (such as ï¿½) and umlauts (such as ï¿½). There are no equivalent sounds in English, so pronounce them as you like. I have seen several conflicting guides to the pronunciation of old Icelandic. I now understand that some of my confusion relates to my not comprehending all the pronunciation changes and dialect variations that occurred over the centuries that Old Norse was spoken. Since I don't know, I'm not even going to try to provide a guide. Barnes' recent old Norse textbook provides a detailed guide to pronunciation, as well as a fascinating discussion of the differences between old Norse and modern Icelandic pronunciation. I refer interested readers to his text. The full citation is on the references page.

So as not to leave readers totally in the dark about pronunciation, I conclude with an audio recording of a short excerpt from Völuspá performed by Sveinbjörn Beinsteinsson in old Icelandic. This excerpt is the first half-verse from the poem in which the speaker calls for the attention of the audience. Hliï¿½ï¿½s biï¿½ ek allar helgar kindir, meiri ok minni, mï¿½go Heimdallar. Saga | Define Saga at Dictionary.com saga noun 1. a medieval Icelandic or Norse prose narrative of achievements and events in the history of a personage, family, etc. 2. Synonyms: epic , tale , history . 3. Also called saga novel. a form of the novel in which the members or generations of a family or social group are chronicled in a long and leisurely narrative. 4. a dramatic history of a group, place, industry, etc.: the saga of the transcontinental railroad. 5. any very long story with dramatic events or parts: the sad saga of her life in poverty.

Origin of saga 1700-10; < Old Norse; cognate with saw 3 Dictionary.com Unabridged Examples from the Web for saga Expand The U.S. Cannot Confront China on Every Move it Disagrees With Zachary Karabell May 4, 2012 Historical Examples This is largely a matter of personal feeling, but Saxo's account seems to me pointless, till it is supplemented from the saga. Beowulf R. W. Chambers Epic and Romance W. P. Ker The simplest form of the saga occurs in Gildas, with very few historical ingredients. British Dictionary definitions for saga Expand noun 1. any of several medieval prose narratives written in Iceland and recounting the exploits of a hero or a family 2. any similar heroic narrative 3. Also called saga novel. a series of novels about several generations or members of a family 4. any other artistic production said to resemble a saga 5.

(informal) a series of events or a story stretching over a long period Word Origin C18: from Old Norse: a narrative; related to Old English secgan to say1 Collins English Dictionary - Complete & Unabridged 2012 Digital Edition © William Collins Sons & Co. Ltd. 1979, 1986 © HarperCollins Publishers 1998, 2000, 2003, 2005, 2006, 2007, 2009, 2012 Word Origin and History for saga Expand n. 1709, an antiquarians' revival to describe the medieval prose narratives of Iceland and Norway, from Old Norse saga "saga, story," cognate with Old English sagu "a saying" (see saw (n.2)). Properly, a narrative composition of Iceland or Norway in the Middle Ages, or one that has their characteristics. Meaning "long, convoluted story" is from 1857. Online Etymology Dictionary, © 2010 Douglas Harper (WPI) A cuspy but bogus raving story about N random broken people.

Here is a classic example of the saga form, as told by Guy Steele (GLS): Jon L. White (login name JONL) and I (GLS) were office mates at MIT for many years. One April, we both flew from Boston to California for a week on research business, to consult face-to-face with some people at Stanford , particularly our mutual friend Richard Gabriel (RPG). RPG picked us up at the San Francisco airport and drove us back to Palo Alto (going logical south on route 101, parallel to El Camino Bignum ). Palo Alto is adjacent to Stanford University and about 40 miles south of San Francisco. We ate at The Good Earth, a "health food" restaurant, very popular, the sort whose milkshakes all contain honey and protein powder. JONL ordered such a shake - the waitress claimed the flavour of the day was "lalaberry". I still have no idea what that might be, but it became a running joke. It was the colour of raspberry, and JONL said it tasted rather bitter. I ate a better tostada there than I have ever had in a Mexican restaurant.

After this we went to the local Uncle Gaylord's Old Fashioned Ice Cream Parlor. They make ice cream fresh daily, in a variety of intriguing flavours. It's a chain, and they have a slogan: "If you don't live near an Uncle Gaylord's - MOVE!" Also, Uncle Gaylord (a real person) wages a constant battle to force big-name ice cream makers to print their ingredients on the package (like air and plastic and other non-natural garbage). JONL and I had first discovered Uncle Gaylord's the previous August, when we had flown to a computer-science conference in Berkeley , California, the first time either of us had been on the West Coast. When not in the conference sessions, we had spent our time wandering the length of Telegraph Avenue, which (like Harvard Square in Cambridge) was lined with picturesque street vendors and interesting little shops. On that street we discovered Uncle Gaylord's Berkeley store. The ice cream there was very good. During that August visit JONL went absolutely bananas (so to speak) over one particular flavour, ginger honey.

Therefore, after eating at The Good Earth - indeed, after every lunch and dinner and before bed during our April visit --- a trip to Uncle Gaylord's (the one in Palo Alto) was mandatory. We had arrived on a Wednesday, and by Thursday evening we had been there at least four times. Each time, JONL would get ginger honey ice cream, and proclaim to all bystanders that "Ginger was the spice that drove the Europeans mad! That's why they sought a route to the East! They used it to preserve their otherwise off-taste meat." After the third or fourth repetition RPG and I were getting a little tired of this spiel, and began to paraphrase him: "Wow! Ginger! The spice that makes rotten meat taste good!" "Say! Why don't we find some dog that's been run over and sat in the sun for a week and put some *ginger* on it for dinner?!" "Right! With a lalaberry shake!" And so on. This failed to faze JONL; he took it in good humour, as long as we kept returning to Uncle Gaylord's. He loves ginger honey ice cream.

Now RPG and his then-wife KBT (Kathy Tracy) were putting us up (putting up with us?) in their home for our visit, so to thank them JONL and I took them out to a nice French restaurant of their choosing. I unadventurously chose the filet mignon, and KBT had je ne sais quoi du jour, but RPG and JONL had lapin (rabbit). (Waitress: "Oui, we have fresh rabbit, fresh today." RPG: "Well, JONL, I guess we won't need any *ginger*!") We finished the meal late, about 11 P.M., which is 2 A.M Boston time, so JONL and I were rather droopy. But it wasn't yet midnight. Off to Uncle Gaylord's! Now the French restaurant was in Redwood City, north of Palo Alto. In leaving Redwood City, we somehow got onto route 101 going north instead of south. JONL and I wouldn't have known the difference had RPG not mentioned it. We still knew very little of the local geography.

I did figure out, however, that we were headed in the direction of Berkeley, and half-jokingly suggested that we continue north and go to Uncle Gaylord's in Berkeley. RPG said "Fine!" and we drove on for a while and talked. I was drowsy, and JONL actually dropped off to sleep for 5 minutes. When he awoke, RPG said, "Gee, JONL, you must have slept all the way over the bridge!", referring to the one spanning San Francisco Bay. Just then we came to a sign that said "University Avenue". I mumbled something about working our way over to Telegraph Avenue; RPG said "Right!" and maneuvered some more. Eventually we pulled up in front of an Uncle Gaylord's. Now, I hadn't really been paying attention because I was so sleepy, and I didn't really understand what was happening until RPG let me in on it a few moments later, but I was just alert enough to notice that we had somehow come to the Palo Alto Uncle Gaylord's after all. JONL noticed the resemblance to the Palo Alto store, but hadn't caught on.

(The place is lit with red and yellow lights at night, and looks much different from the way it does in daylight.) He said, "This isn't the Uncle Gaylord's I went to in Berkeley! It looked like a barn! But this place looks *just like* the one back in Palo Alto!" RPG deadpanned, "Well, this is the one *I* always come to when I'm in Berkeley. They've got two in San Francisco, too. Remember, they're a chain." JONL accepted this bit of wisdom. And he was not totally ignorant - he knew perfectly well that University Avenue was in Berkeley, not far from Telegraph Avenue. What he didn't know was that there is a completely different University Avenue in Palo Alto. JONL went up to the counter and asked for ginger honey. The guy at the counter asked whether JONL would like to taste it first, evidently their standard procedure with that flavour, as not too many people like it. JONL said, "I'm sure I like it. Just give me a cone." The guy behind the counter insisted that JONL try just a taste first.

"Some people think it tastes like soap." JONL insisted, "Look, I *love* ginger. I eat Chinese food. I eat raw ginger roots. I already went through this hassle with the guy back in Palo Alto. I *know* I like that flavour!" At the words "back in Palo Alto" the guy behind the counter got a very strange look on his face, but said nothing. KBT caught his eye and winked. Through my stupor I still hadn't quite grasped what was going on, and thought RPG was rolling on the floor laughing and clutching his stomach just because JONL had launched into his spiel ("makes rotten meat a dish for princes") for the forty-third time. At this point, RPG clued me in fully. RPG, KBT, and I retreated to a table, trying to stifle our chuckles. JONL remained at the counter, talking about ice cream with the guy b.t.c., comparing Uncle Gaylord's to other ice cream shops and generally having a good old time. At length the g.b.t.c. said, "How's the ginger honey?" JONL said, "Fine!

I wonder what exactly is in it?" Now Uncle Gaylord publishes all his recipes and even teaches classes on how to make his ice cream at home. So the g.b.t.c. got out the recipe, and he and JONL pored over it for a while. But the g.b.t.c. could contain his curiosity no longer, and asked again, "You really like that stuff, huh?" JONL said, "Yeah, I've been eating it constantly back in Palo Alto for the past two days. In fact, I think this batch is about as good as the cones I got back in Palo Alto!" G.b.t.c. looked him straight in the eye and said, "You're *in* Palo Alto!" JONL turned slowly around, and saw the three of us collapse in a fit of giggles. He clapped a hand to his forehead and exclaimed, "I've been hacked!" [My spies on the West Coast inform me that there is a close relative of the raspberry found out there called an "ollalieberry" - ESR] [Ironic footnote: it appears that the meme about ginger vs. rotting meat may be an urban legend.

It's not borne out by an examination of mediaeval recipes or period purchase records for spices, and appears full-blown in the works of Samuel Pegge, a gourmand and notorious flake case who originated numerous food myths. - ESR]

Question: What are the epic tales associated with Iceland traditionally called?
Answer: Sagas