Njord and Skadi

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Njord and Skadi Page 19

by Sheena McGrath


  Tolley does make a good point about the word mornir, which could also be a masculine singular word, "sword". But I disagree with his contention that there was no cult of giantesses, as I have shown elsewhere in this book. It's not impossible that either the horse's penis was offered to them as a sacrifice or else an offering to Freyr (which would support the "sword" reading) could work.

  A giantess-cult could possibly be one of the house-cults like the one Vsp refers to when Heidr is going about to women's houses and teaching them seidr. It is not the sort of activity that needs temples or public spaces of any kind, and this volsi-offering may well have been of the same kind. That does not mean that the author is not poking fun at it; the whole episode is too literary and patterned for it not to be a carefully-polished story. What lies behind it, what the author selected in order to make it sound convincing, is a matter for speculation. As Tolley himself points out, it still has scholars arguing over whether it was real or not, and if so what it meant.[317]

  Chapter 14

  Why Could Skadi Claim Atonement and Compensation?[318]

  (There is also one woman who is both to pay and take a wergild ring, given that she is an only child, and that woman is called "ring lady." She who takes is the daughter of the dead man if no proper receiver of the main ring otherwise exists but atonement payers are alive, and she takes the three-mark ring like a son, given that she has not accepted full settlement in compensation for the killing, and this until she is married, but thereafter kinsmen take it. She who pays is the daughter of the killer if no payer of the main ring otherwise exists but receivers do, and then she is to pay the three-mark ring like a son, and this until she enters a husband's bed and thereby tosses the outlay into her kinsmen's lap.)

  Translation from Laws of Early Iceland: Grágás, tr. Andrew Dennis, Peter Foote, Richard Perkins (Winnipeg: Univ. of Manitoba Press, 1980), p. 181; Clover's italics.

  This passage from the Grágás tells us under what (very exceptional) circumstances a woman may claim compensation for a crime against her family. Usually women were not allowed to do this, leading to the image of the whetting woman in the sagas, who urges her men on to revenge since she has no legal standing of her own. As we can see from Skadi's appearance at Asgard in armour and carrying weapons, she clearly feels that she is entitled to claim compensation.

  There were two schedules for compensation in Grágás, Baugatal and Vígslóđi, and both divide the kin of a slain person into four tiers, according to how closely related they were to the victim. The first is made up of the nearest kin, father, brother or son, who must pay up if their relative committed the crime, or collect if they are the plaintiffs. Their share is the main "ring" of the compensation. Then come lesser kinsmen, whose share of the wergild is less. The two schedules are exhaustive, tracing out all permutations of relationships. However, they are almost without exception men, aside from the "ring-lady", who gets the largest share of the compensation if there is no one else left to collect, basically.

  This may not seem so unusual, but what makes it striking is that this relativeless woman fills the breach "as a son and even - since the clause applies only to the unmarried - as a "maiden". That the practice is of some antiquity in Scandinavia is suggested by the presence of similar statutes in the early Norwegian laws."[319] As the law-code says:

  Now, there is one maiden who is called a baugrygr; she both pays into the baug and receives payments form it, if she is an only child and has come into an inheritance, till she is seated in the bridal chair; then she throws [the right and duty in the matter of the] inheritance back upon the knees of her kinsmen; after that she shall neither pay into, nor receive payment from, the baug.[320]

  This law claims to date from the time of King Hakon, grandson of Sverri, who enacted a new law-code in 1260 CE. This provision appears in the section on the reckoning of the wergild system.

  Presumably the "ring-lady" had to be a legal man, with no living male relatives, because in Old Icelandic law women could not go to law. This is one of the very few instances in which a woman could represent herself and claim compensation in her own right. (Back then, your best bet was to be a widow if you wanted independence.) If you follow the sagas, women seem to have had a great deal of informal power, but the actual formal mechanics of the law had to proceed through a male relative, whether by blood or marriage. Since most Icelanders seem to have reckoned kin bilaterally, either would do.

  The minute a woman married, however, any right to compensation she had went to her husband, since he was her legal representative. According to the law, any claim on her family for compensation went to the husband as well, but that doesn't apply here, since the right to wergild reverts to the woman's relatives on her marriage.

  If you follow Clunies-Ross, this is why the gods give in to her request for a husband. Once married, as the law says, the duty of seeking compensation or continuing the feud falls to her kinsmen. Of course, they may also have wanted to settle the whole thing and have it over with - they'd had plenty of trouble with Thiazi already, and now it was coming from beyond the grave. It may well have been an attempt to better relations with the giants, thus staving off Ragnarok, from gods who'd suddenly had to face their own mortality each time they looked in the mirror or at one another. (Stephen Mitchell, for one, thinks the marriage was a way of resolving conflict.[321])

  It seems counterintuitive, though, to be so keen to marry Skadi to Njord. Odin and co. must have been very sure that Njord wouldn't get "turned" so to speak, since one of the most common motifs in the sagas is that of a husband or other kinsman being goaded into avenging a wrong done to a woman. They were obviously very confident about Njord. Also, as Miller points out:

  Practical kinship, whether based on shared blood, marriage, or even fictive kinship relationships, provided one of the chief bases for group recruitment in saga Iceland. People looked to kin and affines for aid in law and life. They avenged each other's wrongs; they invited each other to weddings and funerals; they gave each other gifts. They stood surety for each other and hired on their poorer cousins as servants.[322]

  Since the last thing that the Aesir wanted to do was associate themselves with their despised relatives, it's odd that they would agree to marrying one of them. Since Njord was a Vanir, it might not have mattered so much if he married a giantess. Perhaps the contest was rigged, because what would they have done if she had chosen Baldr?

  The other parts of her compensation involve Loki humiliating himself to make her laugh, and, in a completely unexpected gesture, Thiazi's eyes being made into stars. We notice that the gods do not offer her any monetary compensation or treasured objects. There were probably two reasons for this. First, and least pleasant, is that the gods were not in the habit of giving things to the giants, but taking them. Second, and a bit more speculative, is that Skadi had enough wealth of her own (after all, her father and his two brothers were proverbial for it) that her marriage to Njord the Wealthy would not seem incongruous. Marriage among people of unequal status or wealth was discouraged, although there were very few actual repercussions, mainly social rather than legal.[323]

  The ring-lady in Gragas is assumed to be seeking compensation, since women did not usually seek vengeance. There has always been some ambiguity about Skadi's arrival at Asgard - it is unclear whether she is armoured and seeking to prosecute a blood-feud, or simply strengthening her claim to compensation by reminding the Aesir of what could happen if they didn't pay up. (Since it is in their interest to stave off Ragnarok as long as possible, the Aesir would not want to start a war with the giants.)

  On the other hand, we know that the gods are immortal, and the only threat so far to their immortality has just died. His only issue is standing right in front of them. Still, the Aesir and giants do not have a blood-feud on the go, though Snorri seems to read their stories in that light, more than other writers.

  For example, in Gylf we are told the story of Utgard-loki and how he deceived Thor and his companions.
Immediately Gylfi/Gangleri asks how Thor revenged this, and Harr responds with the tale of Thor's visit to Hymir. Again when they get to Baldr's death, Gylfi again asks if it was avenged, and is assured that Loki will not forget it.[324]

  There doesn't appear to be the sort of score-keeping that characterizes feuding among humans (although it gets slippery in long-running ones), but Lindow suggests it may be behind the pairings-off at Ragnarok. The gods, however, are immortal, and so for now the giants "must content themselves with raiding and other forms of harassment."[325] This is the real handicap the jotunns labour under - unlike the gods they can be killed. Thus Thiazi's theft of the apples changed the rules of engagement to their advantage.[326]

  Given this, Skadi's decision to ask for compensation in the form of an Aesir husband seems odd. But, she is following the prescribed female role in asking for compensation, and for a husband. Where she is atypical is that she journeys to Asgard, across what we're told is a long distance through hostile terrain, and risks death to demand what she feels is her due. In a certain sense, she is in the same position as rich American women in the late 1800s coming to Britain. She has money, and she would like position, and the way to acquire that is through a husband.

  So we have two different images of Skadi: either warrior maiden or, if not exactly peace-weaver, then someone who doesn't want the feud to escalate. As is often the case with this goddess, she manages to be outside the usual categories. This may help to explain how she got into Asgard in the first place, and how once inside she managed to broker a deal with the gods.

  How powerful is Skadi?

  So, the question becomes, what was so threatening about Skadi’s grief that the Aesir felt they had to give in to her demands?

  The first and most obvious response is that the Aesir wanted to delay the war with the giants as long as possible, to avoid the destruction of themselves and the world. But this begs the question of whether Skadi had that much power, either in herself or in her allies. She presumably has no near male relatives or else she wouldn’t have been negotiating with the gods herself.[327] She may have carried some of Thiazi’s prestige with her, but Thiazi was dead. We know he was rich, and powerful in magic, but Skadi doesn’t appear to have inherited his abilities, only his home.

  But the Aesir do negotiate with her, which suggests that either she carries a threat in herself (more on this below) or else that Thiazi, who is described as “terrible”, “powerful-minded”, “mighty”, or perhaps crucially, wealthy carries more clout than we know.

  Another part of the answer lies in Skadi’s reply to Loki’s taunts about her father:

  You know, if first and foremost you were at the killing

  when you attacked Thiazi,

  from my sanctuaries and plains shall always come

  baneful advice to you.[328] (Lks 51)

  Clearly Skadi had temples and land set aside for her cult. This cuts two ways – first it tells us that Skadi had worshippers, which gives her worldly power, and second, reminds us that there is no record of Loki having any cult. It is also significant that she is the only goddess who defends herself. The rest either try to soothe him down, or in Freyja’s case, stand up for another but not herself. This suggests a forceful personality, and self-assurance.

  In addition, she was given the title dís, goddess. As Else Mundal points out, the distinction between goddess and giantess is a lot blurrier than that of god and giant.[329] Thorgerdr Holgabrudr was a Norwegian goddess with her own temple, who was also described as a giantess.[330] This is probably because there were so many, overlapping, categories of powerful female beings, such as valkyries and the disir, who were not always well-defined but could be called on for assistance. (I always wonder, when trying to categorize all these different beings, how a medieval Scandinavian would react to my efforts. With laughter or bafflement, probably.)

  So Skadi is as much a goddess as say, Freyja or Sif. They could argue, however, that in addition to their family connections, they were inherently divine, while Skadi had to "marry in". What’s interesting, though, is that she retains her status even after the divorce. Perhaps godhood, like priesthood, cannot be revoked.

  Ingunn Ásdísirdóttir thinks that as the Germanic tribes moved northward, they came up against the cult of Freyja, and had to incorporate her into their religion because it was so prevalent, even though they already had Frigg to fill that slot..[331] In the same way, Skadi may have been “written into the script”. This would explain the discrepancies in the material between the acknowledged power of giants and giantesses, and the fact that they’re made out to be the enemies of the Aesir. This ambivalence runs all through the myths and sagas.

  It also raises the point – what exactly is the difference between a giant and a god? It’s not necessarily size. The many recorded instances of gods mating with giant women would be ludicrous if it were. (In the story of Hadingus, he raises this very objection to the giantess who would be his lover. She tells him she can change her size. No difficulty, then.)

  The two main characteristics of giants that are significant here are monstrosity, of which large size is but one kind, and wisdom, mainly of a magical nature. In a myth-system that regarded such knowledge as powerful, that gave the giants an advantage. As Lotte Motz points out, apart from Odin, the gods tend to rely on their courage and strength to help them defeat giants. Only Odin would presume to match them in wisdom and lore.[332]

  We also know that both Skadi and Gerdr were considered beautiful, the latter so much so that Frey was smitten as soon as he saw her. Skadi is described as the "bright bride of the gods" (Grim.), which hardly fits the image of a mountain-giantess. Snorri tells us that Gerdr was "the most beautiful of all women" (Gylf). He goes on to say that when "she lifted her arms and opened the door for herself, light was shed from her arms over both sky and sea, and all worlds were made bright by her."[333] (This led Lonnroth to suggest that maybe Gerdr wasn't a giantess after all, since she far outclassed them, which seems a tautological argument.)

  While I would not suggest that either giantess was powerful because they were beautiful, it suggests that the usual idea of a troll-wife does not apply, and that the two were always closer to goddesses than those who would make clear lines of demarcation would admit.

  Both Skadi and Gerdr are given lineages, as well. No doubt part of that is the fact that both married (or at least had some sort of liaison with) gods, and were royal ancestors. Margaret Clunies-Ross suggests that Skadi's status as a royal ancestor of the earls of Hladir in Norway may have influenced Snorri's version of the myth, but that still implies that she was a powerful force to be reckoned with, except that her power would come from her descendants rather than her father.[334] (The line supposedly descended from Skadi and Odin's son Saeming through to the earls of Hladir, who ruled Trøndelag and Hålogaland in Norway from the 9th century to the 11th century). [335]After all, it's the first story related in Skáldskaparmál, which is a treatise on poetry, after all. Whatever political clout Skadi had in mythical time, in this world and that time she had pull through her family associations.

  Finally, in the section on Loki's vulgarity, I discussed other myths from around the world that depict grieving deities as a threat to the world order. The most famous example is probably Demeter, who staged the world's first sit-down strike after Hades carried off her daughter. The next best-known is the sun-goddess Amaterasu, who retreated into a cave after her brother the storm-god grossly insulted her and killed one of her maids. (Obviously, I'm ranking these from my own, Western POV.) Two more are the Egyptian sun-god Ra, who refused to adjudicate between Horus and Set, when the adult Horus came to seek revenge for his father Osiris' murder by Set, and the story of the Hittite earth-god Telipinu, whose story is similar to Ra's.

  The other myth, from India, is of the goddess Kannaki, whose husband dies, after which she goes into violent, prolonged mourning that is only relieved when she sees young men playing the horn game. When the horn broke, she laughed. I
n all these cases, obscenity or a suggestive innuendo (in the horn game it is the "male" horn which is supposed to break - one can imagine the comments from the spectators) startles the deity into laughter, which ends the mourning.

  In all these cases, the deity's prolonged mourning is dangerous to earthly life - the sun not shining, the crops not growing, and in Kannaki's case a goddess so deranged by grief that she causes the city of Maduri to burst into flames.

  It is often thought, and I think it may be a valid idea, that by making Skadi laugh, Loki hoped to neutralize her death-aspect. At any rate, he turned aside her wrath, and whether he ever followed it up by actually sleeping with her, he had broken the force of mourning and anger that propelled Skadi to Asgard in the first place.

  Did Skadi win or lose?

  The pressing question, of course, is did Skadi gain anything by her attempt to avenge her father, or did the gods just buy her off? She set very unusual conditions, because while she asked for atonement and compensation (the usual legal formula), the form that that compensation took was unique. The demand for a husband from among the Aesir has a certain logic to it, but the demand that they make her laugh (which she was sure they could not do) is strange enough that I will discuss it, and what I see as the pattern behind it, at some length.

 

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