Elmer H. Antonsen, whose approach (the structuralist type) is centered around the phonological system, sides with the opinion of his student Richard L. Morris according to whom runic writing was necessarily created before Christ, even if we have no material evidence for it. Antonsen writes: “Runic writing must have been considerably older than the first inscriptions we know about.”91 Moreover, he’s virulently opposed to Erik Moltke’s Latin theory which, according to him, has absolutely no basis. He also sees no reason to believe that runic writing appeared near Roman limes or that Celtic populations were an intermediary in their propagation. It could have just as well been spread by sea, he observes, since trade between Rome and Northern Europe was done by land or by sea.
Another discussion related to this debate is the dialectal status of the language written down as inscriptions in Old Fuþark. The language of the oldest inscriptions is commonly believed to be urnordisch, altnordisch or späturnordisch, meaning the state of the language prior to linguistic innovations that took place around 500, a state that still involves vocalism in the endings of words. Ottar Grønvik, Wolfgang Krause or Erik Moltke are among the supporters of this “Proto-Nordic” theory, whereas Enver A. Makaev confines himself to talk of a “runic Koine,”92 and Robert Nedoma of “old-runic.” However, it makes sense to believe that the older the first inscriptions are, the more the language they represent is close to the common Germanic language. Elmer H. Antonsen is one of those who think that those inscriptions correspond to a language closer to “Proto-Germanic” than “Proto-Nordic,” because the Old Fuþark demonstrates a phonological system that can only be found in the Urgermanisch period.93 That opinion, which was already held by Hans Kuhn and then Gustav Indrebø, is shared by Paolo Ramat. Hans Frede Nielsen believes that “old runic” resembles the northwestern Germanic language or even late the common Germanic language, but he thinks that most inscriptions in the Old Fuþark denote a language already somewhat close to Old Norse.94 Lastly, we still have to figure out whether the oldest runic inscriptions were written in the same language or in the same dialectal variant.
“We still don’t exactly know whence [runic writing] came,” writes Elmer H. Antonsen,
but the pieces of evidence we have got indicate an archaic Mediterranean writing with Greek or Latin origins. The fact that Latin writing was itself inherited from Greek makes it virtually impossible to ascertain which one was more directly responsible for the appearance of the Fuþark […] We aren’t currently capable (and we probably never will be) to identify a specific local Mediterranean alphabet that produced the runes. The only thing we know is that the Fuþark is derived from the great archaic Greek tradition of writing like the Latin alphabet.95
Aage Kabell,96 who believes that the origins of the runes are to be found in an archaic Greek alphabet, suggested in those circumstances to reexamine Isaac Taylor’s old theory, which dares to purport that the runic alphabet comes from a Thracian alphabet from the 6th century BC.97 Some of that theory was previously picked up by George Hempl.98 Of course Klaus Düwel objects to that “hyper archaic” theory that it’s surprising that not a single inscription from that 500-year-long period (between the 6th and 1st century BC) was found.99 Is that a decisive argument? Once again, runologists face the question of the preservation of the first inscriptions.
12
Provisional Appraisal
There are many theories on when runic writing was created and on who created it. Most of them contradict each other or are incompatible with each other. There is no consensus. Why didn’t the Germanic people use the Greek, Latin (or Etruscan) alphabet instead of creating their own writing from Greek, Latin or Etruscan?100 And especially, why did they feel the need to completely disrupt the writing system they borrowed from Mediterranean people? Why take only a part of their alphabet and add signs from an unknown source to it? Why did they completely change the order of the letters they borrowed? Why did they group them into three distinct groups (the ættir)? Why did they give a name to every letter in accordance with the principle of acronyms?
The Phoenician, Greek, Latin, Etruscan or north Italic alphabets are all comprised of a sequence of letters, and all those sequences are virtually always in the same order, beside a few variations. It never crosses the mind of the people who inherit an anterior alphabet to change the inner workings of its order. Moreover, all those alphabets are composed of a continuous sequence of letters, without any sort of grouping like the œttir, so why didn’t the Fuþark follow that pattern. It bears repeating that none of the theories explain the peculiar order of the Fuþark or the division of the letters into three ættir.
Some runes are identical with Latin, Greek or north Italic letters when it comes to their shape and phonetic values. Some other runes are much more random, or even dubious. Anyways, there are always some runes with no equivalent (like j, p or d). We have to believe that they came from somewhere else, but where?101 Whatever the answer, the Fuþark cannot be explained as a whole by a derivation or a borrowing from a single anterior writing system. In any case, runologists can only note reorganizations, additions, removals or modifications that they cannot account for.
If runic writing came from a Mediterranean alphabet, then it would be reasonable to assume that the oldest runic inscriptions would be found in southern Europe. Yet, it is completely the opposite: most of them are in northern Germany and in the Scandinavian peninsula, especially Denmark.102 In other words, the more one goes south, the less inscriptions are to be found, and the more one goes north, the more inscriptions there are.103 But this does not mean that the system is native to that region. Runic writing could very well have been invented in a meridional region and then have taken hold in Denmark and the neighboring territories after it spread there. Likewise, the objects bearing runic inscriptions that were found in Denmark could have been engraved somewhere else (especially since inscriptions do not necessarily have to be from the same historical period as the objects they are engraved on). Nonetheless, it is surprising that a writing that is supposed to have been created by coming into contact with Mediterranean populations left so few traces in the areas where that contact is supposed to have taken place. Since Denmark is 1100 kilometers away from the Mediterranean as the crow flies, we have to figure out who brought runic writing north, as well as in what form and under what conditions. It is generally assumed that the runes spread north by land, by following the Rhine and the Neckar valley, near current Württemberg, or by an Italy-Bohemia/Moravia-Denmark route. Musset notes that “thanks to archaeology, we know that it’s quite possible that alphabetical texts spread North.”104 Even more so since northern Europe and southern Europe have been in contact much before Christ, if only because of the routes formed since the Bronze Age to trade amber.105 But then again, specialists still disagree. None of the hypotheses raised so far are confirmed by substantial evidence.
Whether runic writing was invented by a single person or a group (of “merchants,” of “priests,” of “warriors” etc.) remains controversial as well. A borrowing from a Mediterranean alphabet obviously assumes that at least one Germanic language speaker could also speak and read the Mediterranean language that the alphabet transcribed. That means that that person was at some point in physical contact with the people that spoke the language. Many peoples are believed to have been the ones who spread it: the Goths from the banks of the Vistula (Akeber) or from the Black Sea (von Friesen), the Cimbri and the Teutons from the Transpadane region (Baseche, Altheim-Trautmann), the Marconni from Bohemia and the Quadi (Marstrander, Krause), the Heruli (Höfler), or even some Celtic intermediaries. Those claims remain just hypotheses.
All the theories that suggest a borrowing later than the 2nd century (like the one that relies on Goths from the Black Sea) have to be dropped for chronological reasons, since we now know of inscriptions prior to that period. It is obvious that runic writing can not have been created in southern Europe at a time when it was already being used in northern Germany or Scandi
navia. If runic writing was already used in the 1st century AD, then it’s unlikely that it was derived from Hellenistic Greek or Latin. Conversely, it would be more likely that it came from the North Italic alphabets (or the archaic Greek alphabets).
It is also quite daring to explain the creation of an alphabet from not one, but several sources (other alphabets). Whereas Ludwig F. A. Wimmer suggested to tie the runes only to the Latin alphabet, Bugge, von Friesen, Marstrander and Hammarström suggested tying it to several writing systems: to create the Fuþark, some letters were supposedly borrowed from an alphabet, and then some other letters were borrowed from another alphabet, and some more from a third alphabet. Psychologically speaking, the theory that the Fuþark was created by his inventor by picking some letters from different alphabets and mixing them with letters of his own creation is tenuous. Musset reckons that “the idea of drawing inspiration from several writing systems is not absurd,” but he admits that this idea “has been an insurmountable obstacle for many runologists.”106
Moreover, not only the letters’ shapes but also their phonological values must be taken into account. Too often we forget that “in an alphabet of the geometric kind, the number of stroke and curve combinations is quite limited, so letters cannot be seriously considered to have been borrowed or to be related unless they have enough in common not only when it comes to their signs, but also when it comes to the sounds they express.”107
As early as 1874, Ludwig F. A. Wimmer laid down the principle that if both the shape and the phonetic value of a rune matches that of a letter from Mediterranean alphabets, we can conclude that the rune is derived from the letter. But there is an issue with that principle when it is applied to the whole alphabet, because the likeness of shapes is not always linked with the phonological equivalence. For instance, the rune W resembles the Latin P or the Greek rho, but it denotes the sound /w/, but it’s the rune p which denotes the sound /p/. Why does the rune o express the sound /o/, whereas the rune 5 which is close to the Latin O expresses the sound /ng/? Why is it that the rune j expresses the sound /j/ when the rune y, which is close to the Latin Y, expresses the sound /z/? If we go by the derivation or borrowing theory, the discrepancies between letters, phonemes and sounds are hard to explain.
If we assume that the first runic inscriptions have an archaic character that alludes to the primitive stages of classical Mediterranean alphabets, that primitive character evidently removes the possibility of a derivation that took place in the classical period. Thus, runic writing must be more related to the north Italic alphabets than the Greek and Latin alphabets. However, we are certain that runic writing is even more related to archaic Greek alphabets, which are the forebears of the Italic alphabets.
David N. Parsons believes that there is actually “very little evidence that the runes were developed incrementally from an anterior alphabet,” but “different characteristics of that writing give us reason to believe that the inscriptions that survived were derived from a well established system that was especially well suited to the requirements of the Germanic language.”108 “We simply don’t know without a doubt where the runes come from,” writes Richard L. Morris, who adds that “estimating that the runes cannot be older than the birth of Christ, not only makes one base his theory on elements that aren’t backed by enough evidence, but it also leads one towards fallacious interpretations of the inscriptions themselves.”109 Elmer H. Antonsen goes further: “Without delving into the details of all the theories on the origin of [the runes], we can know one thing for sure: none of them fulfill adequately enough the requirements set by the researchers to be the final solution to that question. In other words, runologists have yet to identify with meaningful certainty a specific Mediterranean alphabet as the source of the Fuþark.”110
The main hypotheses on the origin of runic writing have something in common: they all are based only on chronological arguments. Since there is no proof that runic writing was present before the birth of Christ, then it is argued that it can only come from a writing that was present before the birth of Christ. But a derivation or a borrowing is not the only way to explain relatedness. Relatedness can come from a common heritage that sprang parallel evolutions, like it often occurs in linguistic evolutions. In this perspective, runic signs would be derived from a single European symbolic system that was already in use in protohistory, and the Mediterranean alphabets would also be derived from that system (maybe Ogham as well). That’s a bold hypothesis, but it deserves to be investigated further. That is what we are going to do now.
The great runestone of Jelling. It was erected in 983 by the son and successor of the king Gorm III, Harald Bluetooth, in memory of his parents and to celebrate his conquest of Norway and Denmark. Denmark offered a replica to the city of Rouen in 1911 to commemorate the one thousandth anniversary of the Treaty of Saint-Clair-sur-Epte.
An illustrated stone from the island of Gotland (8th century). It represents the welcome of warriors in the Valhöll (Valhalla). In the top right corner: Oðhinn — Wodan riding his eight-legged horse, Sleipnir.
The runestone of Tune (Norway), dates back to around 450. It was discovered in 1867 on the shore of the Oslo gulf.
Slab from the Blanchard shelter (Dordogne) and dating to the Aurignacian (–35 000 years). According to Alexander Marshack, the sixty-nine marks in the shape of circles or crescents correspond to different phases of the moon.
The runic inscription of Nordhuglen.
The bracteate of Fyn.It represents a bird of prey, a divine figure and a galloping horse.
The Yttergärde runestone’s inscription. It was most likely engraved in the second quarter of the 11th century. It is read from right to left (starting from the snake’s head), and then from left to right. It commemorates a Swedish viking named Ulf.
The famous Ramsungberg runestone. Its length is 4.8 meters.
It depicts the legend of Sigurd.
Knife handle made of bone bearing the runic inscription “latam hari.”
A page from the “Codex runicus.”
The small Danish village named Jelling, near the city of Bejly, in Jutland. There are two burial mounds and two monolithic runestones that have different sizes there. This is the bigger one. The second one was erected by the king Gorm the Old, dead in 958, in memory of his wife Thyra.
Bracteate found in 1774 in Vadstena (Östergötland) listing the runes of the Fuþark.
Part II
13
Attempts at Explanation
As we have already pointed out: the first runic inscriptions present a system that is already perfectly stabilized. All runologists agree on that. Maurice Cahen writes that “We agree to accept that the order and the division of the runic alphabet were set around the time it was created: given how all the other Germanic alphabets are, it must date back to ancient times.”111 Lucien Musset writes that One of the most remarkable characteristics of the Fuþark is its relative flexity.”112 David N. Parsons writes about the Fuþark that it “goes back to the earliest days of the scripti.” “Since the very first inscriptions,” writes Wolfgang Krause, “runic writing appears everywhere under a definitively set form.”113 “One thing is unquestionable: since the first monuments, it [the Fuþark] appears under its final form and in its immutable order that is also present in half a dozen inscriptions from the 4th to the 6th centuries,” writes Alain Marez.114 The oldest inscriptions do not display a system that is being formed. It is already complete at the beginning.
The same goes for the peculiar order of the Fuþark and for the division of the letters into three eight-letter groups. “The order of the runes and its tripartite distribution within the sequence seem to be ancient, that may date back to the creation of system,”115 writes Alain Marez. The reason behind the division into three ættir remains unknown. But we should keep in mind that the Icelandic word ætt derives from the name of the number “eight” according to Magnus Olsen, which makes some sense since it refers to an sequence of eight signs.116
Many studies were conducted on the names of the runes, the most monumental one was Karl Schneider’s.117 Two theories arose to try to explain the order of the Fuþark’s runes from their names. One by trying to connect it with some kind of mnemonic poem, which is not very credible (everybody can memorize the order of the letters of a twenty-four sign alphabet), the other by noticing that most runes can be sorted in antithetical pairs, which is more interesting: “cattle” (*fehu) and “aurochs” (*ūruz), “giant” (*Þurisaz) and “Asa” (ferula) (*ansuz), etc. That idea that the system brings together runes with opposite or complementary meanings in couples was first brought up by Erik Brate,118 and then it was picked up in different ways by Friedrich von der Leyen, Elmar Seebold119 and Bernard Mees. Karl Schneider believes that the names of the runes were divided into four main groups, and that the concepts they expressed were assembled in pairs. Nonetheless, that approach remains speculative, like Wolfgang Jungandreas’ (who supports the Latin theory) attempt to explain the names of the runes by taking into account cosmological elements.120
Runes and the Origins of Writing Page 4