Asgard - "Enclosed region where the Æsir live"

Midgard - Middle Earth

Æsir - the pantheon of Norse gods, which eventually included the Æsir and Vanir

Vanir - small family of gods including Njord (M), Frey (M), and his twin sister, Freyja (F)

Ymir - the primordial giant

Odin - the All-Father; Val-Father "father of the slain"; the High One; god of wisdom and sovereignty, leads Æsir with skills in magic, prophecy, and governance; travels between the worlds of the living and dead on his 8-legged horse, Sleipnir.

Thor - god of the sky; of thunder; Odin's eldest son; known for killing giants and his Hammer (Mjollnir), iron gloves, and iron belt/girdle; worshipped by farmers and seamen.

Freyja - daughter of Njord and Frigg; twin sister to Frey

Asynjur - female Æsir 

Loki - trickster-figure; Janus-like (can change gender); a shape-shifter; not quite a god; a cultural hero; rebel rouser and creative problem solver; wins significant prizes for the gods from the dwarves

Valkyrie - supernatural war maidens who serve Odin and choose fallen warriors for Valhalla; rode on horses to battlefields wearing helmets and shields; could both protect and cause death of warriors they did or did not favor

Einharjar - the souls of dead heroes in Valhalla

Valhalla - the hall of slain warriors led by Odin; a splendid palace roofed with shields; a training ground where warriors fight each other every day and every night feast on boar and mead, drinking mead from horns and the udders of goats. 

Dwarves - (dvergar) are the first to emerge from the flesh of Ymir, like maggots; gods eventually give them human understanding and assured likeness of men; became master craftsmen and smiths in metal, wood, stone, and gold (taking over from the Æsir)

Ragnarök - Doomsday or "doom of the gods"; the end of the world of gods and men; a series of events and catastrophes that mark the demise of the gods over the demons and giants; the world is then reborn.

Sagas: Narrative Prose texts written in Scandinavia between c. 1100 and 1500 (not counting the so-called “post-classical Sagas”) and chiefly in Iceland and a few in Norway. These texts tell the tales of various individuals, both historical, pseudo-historical and fictional in Scandinavia or other places. Sub-genres are Sagas of the Icelanders (takes place in Iceland-Norway c. 800–1100), Sagas of the Kings (take place in Continental Scandinavia c. 800–1300), Sagas of Ancient times (take place in Continental Scandinavia, prior to c. 800), Sagas of Knights (take place in Europe, in mostly non-historical times and/ or Arthurian times) and Sagas of the Bishops (takes place in Iceland-Norway c. 1000–1200).

Skaldic poetry: a genre of native Norse poetry chiefly taking the form of encomiastic (i.e. praise) poems painting the poet’s patron (king, chieftain, lord) in a good light by using mythological imagery. Seemingly originated in Norway and span a time period between (allegedly) c. 800–1300. The Skaldic genre fell into disarray in the late middle age when another (this time fully Icelandic) poetic form, the rímur, came into prominence.

The Poetic Edda: the name of about two dozen mythological and heroic poems, chiefly found in the 13th century Icelandic manuscript Codex Regius (and a handful of others) and of unknown origin, authorship and function. Generally believed to have been composed in either Norway or Iceland, some are viewed as genuinely pre-Christian while others not so much. A lot of uncertainty surrounds these poems.

The Prose Edda: essentially speaking, it is “A Handbook on Skaldic Poetics” written in the early 13th century, generally attributed to the Icelandic chieftain, Snorri Sturluson. This Edda is a handbook written with the explicit aim to teach younger skalds about ancient, often extremely complex Skaldic poems, their meters, rules and obscure mythological references. Often thought to be the oldest example of research on Norse Mythology.

“The Mead of Poetry”
From: The Children of Ash and Elm by Neil Gaiman

‘At the end of the war of the divine families, the gods sealed the peace by splitting into a communal vessel, and from the saliva they made a man. His name was Kvasir; he knew the answer to every riddle and could untangle any puzzle of words. On his travels, Kvasir was waylaid and murdered by two dwarves, who mixed his blood with honey to make a mead that contained all the powers of poetry. After a series of evil deeds, the dwarves fell afoul of a giant and were forced to surrender the drink to escape with their lives. The fame of the mead spread, but it was guarded inside a mountain by the giant’s daughter, Gunnlod. Having tried to trick his way to a taste of the potion Odin eventually tunneled inside the rock in the form of a snake, and seduced Gunnlod. He stayed with her for three nights. She gave him three draughts of mead, but he gulped it all down. Transformed into an eagle, Odin flew back to Asgard, evading the pursuing giants and vomiting the mead into containers the gods set out in readiness.’

“Chapter 34” from Saga of the Ere-Dwellers (Eyrbyggja Saga)

From: Eyrbyggja Saga [Eer-bih-gee-ya] | Publisher: University of Toronto Press

Translated by Hermann Pálsson and Paul Edwards

After Thorolf died, a good many people found it more and more unpleasant to stay out of doors once the sun had begun to go down. As the summer wore on, it became clear that Thorolf wasn’t quiet, for after sunset no one out of doors was left in peace. There was another thing, too: the oxen which had been been used to haul Thorolf’s body were ridden to death by demons, and every beast that came near his grave when out of its mind and howled itself to death. The shepherd at Hvamm often came running home with Thorolf after him. One day that autumn neither sheep nor shepherd came back to the farm, and next morning, when a search was made for him, the shepherd was found dead not far from Thorolf’s grave, his corpse coal-black, and every bone in his body broken. They buried him near to Thorolf.  All the sheep in the valley were found dead, and the rest that had strayed into the mountains were never seen again. Any bird that happened to land on Thorolf’s cairn dropped dead on the spot. All this grew so troublesome that no one would risk using the valley for grazing any longer.

At night the people at Hvamm would hear loud noises from outside, and it often sounded as if there was somebody sitting astride the roof. That winter, Thorolf often appeared on the farm, haunting his widow most of all. A lot of people suffered badly from it, but she was almost driven out of her wits, and eventually the strain of it killed her. Her body was taken up to Thorsardale to be buried beside Thorolf’s cairn, and after that the people of Hvamm abandoned the farm.

Thorolf now began haunting the whole valley, and most of the farms were abandoned because of it. His ghost was so malignant that it killed people and others had to run for their lives. All those who died were later seen in his company.

Everyone complained about this reign of terror and thought it was Arnkel’s business to put a stop to it. Those who thought themselves safer with Arnkel than anywhere else were invited to stay at his farm, as Thorolf and his retinue caused no harm when Arnkel was around. As the winter wore on, people grew so scared of Thorolf’s ghost, they were too frightened to travel, no matter how urgent their business.

So the winter passed. Spring brought fine weather; and when all the frost on the ground had thawed, Arnkel sent a messenger over to Karsstad asking the Thorbrandssons to come and help him carry Thorolf away from Thorsardale and find him another resting-place. It was the law in those days, just as it is now, that everybody must help bury the dead if asked to give assistance. All the same, when word reached the Thorbrandssons they said they had no reason to help Arnkel and his men out of their troubles. But their father Thorbrand said, “You ought to do whatever the law requires. You must not refuse to do what you’ve been asked.”

So Thorodd said to the messenger, “Go and tell Arnkel that I’ll stand in for my brothers. I’ll go up to Ulfar’s Fell and meet him there.”

The messenger went back and told Arnkel. He got ready at once and set out with eleven men, a few oxen, and some tools for digging. First they went up to Ulfar’s Fell, where Thorodd Thorbrandsson joined them with two more men, then they all travelled together across the ridge into Thorsardale and up to Thorolf’s cairn. When they broke into the cairn they saw his body was uncorrupted and very ugly to look at. They pulled him out of the grave, laid him on the sled, hitched up a powerful pair of oxen, and hauled him up as far as Ulfarsfell Ridge. By then the oxen were so exhausted they had to get another yoke of them to haul the corpse west along the ridge. Arnkel wanted to take Thorolf all the way to Vadilshofdi and bury him there, but when they came to the end of the ridge, the oxen panicked and broke loose. They ran down the ridge, then north by the hillside, past the farmstead at Ulfar’s Fell, and so down to the sea, where they both collapsed. By now Thorolf had grown so heavy that the men could hardly shift him, but they managed to drag him up to a small knoll nearby, and there they buried him. This place has been known as Twist-Foot’s Knoll ever since. After that Arnkel had a wall built right across the knoll just behind the grave, so high that only a bird in flight could get over it, and here Thorolf rested quietly enough as long as Arnkel lived. You can still see traces of the wall.

“The Lay of Sigrdrifa” (pronunciation [See-GUR-dree-fuh]  or “Sigrdrifumol” [See-gur-DREE-fu-mole]
From: The Poetic Edda compiled by Snorri Sturluson; Translated by Jesse L. Byock | Publisher: Penguin Classics | copyright 2005

[The Ballad of The Victory-Bringer]

Sigurth rode up on Hindarfjoll and turned southward toward the land of the Franks. On the mountain he saw a great light, as if fire were burning, and the glow reached up to heaven. And when he came thither, there stood a tower of shields, and above it was a banner. Sigurth went into the shield-tower, and saw that a man lay there sleeping with all his war-weapons. First he took the helm from his head, and then he saw that it was a woman. The mail-coat was as fast as if it had grown to the flesh. Then he cut the mail-coat from the head-opening downward, and out to both the arm-holes. Then he took the mail-coat from her, and she awoke, and sat up and saw Sigurth, and said:

1. "What bit into my corslet? How have I shaken off sleep?
Who has lifted me from my pallid coercion?"

He answered:
"Sigmund's son—the sword of Sigurd,
Which a short time ago was cutting the raven’s corpse-flesh."

2. "Long I slept, long was I sleeping,
Long are the woes of men;
Odin brought it about that I could not break
The sleep-runes."

Sigurd sat down and asked her name. She took a horn full of mead and gave him a memory-draught.

3. "Hail to the day! Hail to the sons of day!
Hail to night and her kin!
With gracious eyes may you look upon us two,
And give victory to those sitting here!

4. "Hail Æsir! Hail to the goddesses!
Hail to the mighty, fecund earth!
May you give eloquence and native wit to this glorious pair
And healing hands while we live!”

She was called Sigrdrifa, and was a valkyrie. She said that they were two kings who were fighting one another; one was called Helmet-Gunnar (Hjalmgunnar), he was old and a great warrior and Odin had promised him victory; and:

‘The other was Agnar, the brother of Auda (Autha),
Whom no creature wanted to protect.’.

Sigrdrifa brought down Helmet-Gunnar in battle. And Odin pricked her with a sleep-thorn in revenge for this and said that she would never again fight victoriously in battle and said that she should be married. ‘And I said to him that I had sworn a great counter-oath, to marry no man who was acquainted with fear.’* He asked her to teach him wisdom, if she had news from all the worlds. Sigrdrifa said:

5. "Beer I give you, apple-tree of battle,*,
Mixed with magical power and mighty glory;
It is full of spells and favourable letters,
Good charms and runes of pleasure"

6. “Victory-runes you must cut if you want to have victory,
And cut them on your sword-hilt;
Some on the blade-guards, some on the handle,
And invoke Tyr twice.”

7. “Ale-runes must you know if you do not want another’s wife
To beguile your trust, if you trust her;

On a horn they should be cut and on the band of the hand,
And mark your nail with “Nauð”.*

8. “The full cup should be signed over and guarded against mischief,
And leek thrown in the liquid;
Then I know that for you there will never be
Mead blended with malice.”

9. “Helping-runes you must know if you want to assist
And release children from women;
They shall be cut on the palms and clasped on the joints,
And then the disir asked for help.”*

10. “Sea-runes you must cut if you want to have guaranteed
The sail-horses on the sea;
On the prow they must be cut and on the rudder,
And burnt into the oar with fire; 

However steep the breakers or dark the waves,
Yet you’ll come safe from the sea.”

Continues in DIFFERENT TRANSLATION: The Poetic Edda by Henry Adams Bellows, 1936

15. He bade write on the shield | before the shining goddess,

On Arvak's ear, | and on Alsvith's hoof,
On the wheel of the car | of Hrungnir's killer,
On Sleipnir's teeth, | and the straps of the sledge.

16. On the paws of the bear, | and on Bragi's tongue,

On the wolf's claws bared, | and the eagle's beak,
On bloody wings, | and bridge's end,
On freeing hands | and helping foot-prints.

17. On glass and on gold, | and on goodly charms,
In wine and in beer, | and on well-loved seats,
On Gungnir's point, | and on Grani's breast,
On the nails of Norns, | and the night-owl's beak.

*    *    *    *    *    *

18. Shaved off were the runes | that of old were written,
And mixed with the holy mead,
And sent on ways so wide;
So the gods had them, | so the elves got them,
And some for the Wanes so wise,
And some for mortal men.

19. Beech-runes are there, | birth-runes are there,
And all the runes of ale,

[17. Charms: the wearing of amulets was very common. Gungnir: Othin's spear, made by the dwarfs, which he occasionally lent to heroes to whom he granted victory. Grani: Sigurth's horse; the Volsungasaga has "giantesses'."

19. Stanzas 18-19, which editors have freely rearranged, apparently come from another source than any of the rest. Shaved off: the runes were shaved off by Othin from the wood on which they were carved, and the shavings bearing them were put into the magic mead. Wanes: cf. Voluspo, 21, note.

19. Lines 3, 6, and 7 look like spurious additions, but the whole stanza is chaotic. Beech-runes: runes carved on beech trees.]

And the magic runes of might;
Who knows them rightly | and reads them true,
Has them himself to help;
Ever they aid,
Till the gods are gone.

*    *    *    *    *    *

Brynhild spake:
20. "Now shalt thou choose, | for the choice is given,
Thou tree of the biting blade;
Speech or silence, | 'tis thine to say,
Our evil is destined all."

Sigurth spake:
21. "I shall not flee, | though my fate be near,
I was born not a coward to be;

[20. Stanzas 20-21 are all that remains of the dialogue between Brynhild and Sigurth from the poem to which stanzas 2-4 belong; In the intervening lost stanzas Brynhild has evidently warned Sigurth of the perils that will follow if he swears loyalty to her; hence the choice to which she here refers. Tree, etc.: warrior. The manuscript does not indicate the speaker of either this or the following stanza; the Volsungasaga names Sigurth before stanza 21.

21. It is quite possible that the original poem concluded with two stanzas after this, paraphrased thus in the Volsunga saga: "Sigurth said: 'Nowhere is to be found any one wiser than thou, and this I swear, that I shall have thee for mine, and that thou art after my heart's desire.' She answered: 'I would rather have thee though I might choose among all men.' And this they bound between them with oaths." Stanzas 22-37, which the Volsunga saga paraphrases, may have been introduced at a relatively early time, but can hardly have formed part of the original poem.]

Thy loving word | for mine will I win,
As long as I shall live."

22. Then first I rede thee, | that free of guilt
Toward kinsmen ever thou art;
No vengeance have, | though they work thee harm,
Reward after death thou shalt win.

“Höfuðlausn”(Head Ransom) and “Sonatorrek” (On the Loss of My Sons)
From: Egil’s Saga compiled by Snorri Sturluson / poems by: Egill Skallagrimsson

Written in runhent meter (end-rhyme). Egill saved his own life when he was in the power of King Eiríkr blóðøx Haraldsson in York by composing this poem overnight and reciting it to the king the next morning. It is simply a poem of praise to the king, in drápa form, having repeated "refrains" throughout the poem.

HEAD-RANSOM

1.

‘Westward I sailed the wave,
Within me Odin gave
The sea of song I bear
(So ’tis my wont to fare):
I launched my floating oak
When loosening ice-floes broke,
My mind a galleon fraught
With load of minstrel thought.
2.

‘A prince doth hold me guest,
Praise be his due confess’d:
Of Odin’s mead let draught
In England now be quaff’d.
Laud bear I to the king,
Loudly his honour sing;
Silence I crave around,
My song of praise is found.
3.

‘Sire, mark the tale I tell,
Such heed beseems thee well;
Better I chaunt my strain,
If stillness hush’d I gain.
The monarch’s wars in word
Widely have peoples heard,
But Odin saw alone
Bodies before him strown.
4.

‘Swell’d of swords the sound
Smiting bucklers round,
Fiercely waxed the fray,
Forward the king made way.
Struck the ear (while blood
Streamed from glaives in flood)
Iron hailstorm’s song,
Heavy, loud and long.
5.

‘Lances, a woven fence,
Well-ordered bristle dense;
On royal ships in line
Exulting spearmen shine.
Soon dark with bloody stain
Seethed there an angry main,
With war-fleet’s thundering sound,
With wounds and din around.
6.

‘Of men many a rank
Mid showering darts sank:
Glory and fame
Gat Eric’s name.
7.

‘More may yet be told,
An men silence hold:
Further feats and glory,
Fame hath noised in story.
Warriors’ wounds were rife,
Where the chief waged strife;
Shivered swords with stroke
On blue shield-rims broke.
8.

‘Breast-plates ringing crashed,
Burning helm-fire flashed,
Biting point of glaive
Bloody wound did grave.
Odin’s oaks (they say)
In that iron-play
Baldric’s crystal blade
Bowed and prostrate laid.
9.

‘Spears crossing dashed,
Sword-edges clashed:
Glory and fame
Gat Eric’s name.
10.

‘Red blade the king did wield,
Ravens flocked o’er the field.
Dripping spears flew madly,
Darts with aim full deadly.
Scotland’s scourge let feed
Wolf, the Ogress’ steed:
For erne of downtrod dead
Dainty meal was spread.
11.

‘Soared battle-cranes
O’er corse-strown lanes,
Found flesh-fowl’s bill
Of blood its fill.
While deep the wound
He delves, around
Grim raven’s beak
Blood-fountains break.
12.

‘Axe furnished feast
For Ogress’ beast:
Eric on the wave
To wolves flesh-banquet gave.
13.

‘Javelins flying sped,
Peace affrighted fled;
Bows were bent amain,
Wolves were battle-fain:
Spears in shivers split,
Sword-teeth keenly bit;
Archers’ strings loud sang,
Arrows forward sprang.
14.

‘He back his buckler flings
From arm beset with rings,
Sword-play-stirrer good,
Spiller of foemen’s blood.
Waxing everywhere
(Witness true I bear),
East o’er billows came
Eric’s sounding name.
15.

‘Bent the king his yew,
Bees wound-bearing flew:
Eric on the wave
To wolves flesh-banquet gave.
16.

‘Yet to make more plain
I to men were fain
High-soul’d mood of king,
But must swiftly sing.
Weapons when he takes,
The battle-goddess wakes,
On ships’ shielded side
Streams the battle-tide.
17.

‘Gems from wrist he gives,
Glittering armlets rives:
Lavish ring-despiser
Loves not hoarding miser.
Frodi’s flour of gold
Gladdens rovers bold;
Prince bestoweth scorning
Pebbles hand-adorning.
18.

‘Foemen might not stand
For his deathful brand;
Yew-bow loudly sang,
Sword-blades meeting rang.
Lances aye were cast,
Still he the land held fast,
Proud Eric prince renowned;
And praise his feats hath crowned.
19.

‘Monarch, at thy will
Judge my minstrel skill:
Silence thus to find
Sweetly cheered my mind.
Moved my mouth with word
From my heart’s ground stirred,
Draught of Odin’s wave
Due to warrior brave.
20.

‘Silence I have broken,
A sovereign’s glory spoken:
Words I knew well-fitting
Warrior-council sitting.
Praise from heart I bring,
Praise to honoured king:
Plain I sang and clear
Song that all could hear.’

“Sonatorrek” (On the Loss of My Sons)

(from Bjarni Einarsson’s modern Icelandic translation) and in English (from the Penguin edition).

Mjǫk erum tregt

tungu at hrœra

eðr loptvætt

ljóðpundara,

era nú vænt

um Viðurs þýfi

né hógdrœgt

ór hugar fylgsni. (146)

My tongue is sluggish

for me to move,

my poem’s scales

ponderous to raise.

The god’s prize 

is beyond my grasp,

tough to drag out

from my mind’s haunts. (171)

Imagine your own rendition of this magical elixir that imparts creativity, knowledge, and divine wit. What does it look, sound, taste, and feel like? Using a mixture of prose and poetry, create (and title) your own symbol of poetic inspiration, reflecting on certain environments, practices, cultures, traditions, amulets, and/or memories that spark an ineffable return to self. And what obstacles have you endured to access this sacred symbol? Think of the various characters within this story and employ a similar set within your own.

Employ the use of kennings to write an encomiastic poem (a poem of praise) to Night Eyes! - a title and a sort of inherent kenning to what is a specific form of mead - using your tasting notes as well as elements of Norse mythology.

Create your own ending to the Lay of Sigrdrifa, writing the two final stanzas in alliterative verse.