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Dragons all are dire/to the dull-hearted
Feb. 8th, 2022 09:17 pmAfter having read J.R.R. Tolkien’s The Death of Arthur earlier this year I moved onto his The Legend of Sigurd & Gudrún, two English-language poems that retell, in the traditional meter and style, two segments of old Norse heroic stories from the Eddas.
The book is probably 30% poem and 70% notes. Ordinarily this would not be a complaint, since old Norse poetry is confusing to me and I definitely need notes! The problem here is that old Norse poetry is so confusing to me that I was still confused after the notes. The style of the poetry is freaking great–stanzas of eight short lines, full of what Professor Tolkien called a “demonic” energy. The poems are constructed to give you just the most-dramatic highlights, barely strung together, so they have the sort of manic pace of the “Previously on…” reel at the beginning of an episode of one of the better sorts of TV shows. The problem here is that those Previously Ons are very helpful to jog your memory if you actually did watch the earlier episodes, but they’re significantly less helpful if you are actually starting a show at Episode 8 or whatever and trying to catch up. Sadly, I am unfamiliar enough with the whole Sigurd myth cycle that I remained gloriously lost the entire time.
That said, what I did experience was still cool enough that it makes me want to get more familiar with this myth cycle so that I can figure out what’s going on and have an experience that was more like my time reading The Death of Arthur. There’s some really bonkers, bloody stuff in here, curses and dragons and poison and cursed gold, and it sounds like Attila the Hun makes an appearance, and clearly this is right up my alley so it’s probably time to read, like, the copy of The Nibelungenlied that I’ve been carting around since I was first introduced to the Baby’s First Germanic Myths version in high school, and maybe track down a copy of either or both of the Eddas.
It just occurred to me that since most of the notes are endnotes to the poems, it might also behoove me to go back and read the poems again now that I’ve read the notes. You can tell how infrequently I read anything remotely difficult that I did not do this as soon as I got to the end of the notes.
::intermission music plays::
OK THIS IS BETTER
I’m definitely spotting some Lord of the Rings-y stuff in the first poem, The Lay of the Völsungs, both in terms of plot elements (a sword shattered and the pieces kept and re-forged later for the chosen one, dragons, dwarves unleashing great evil) and just general vibes. There are also some parallels I can spot between this and other mythology, but I suppose there’s only so many things you can make up before you have to start re-using elements. For example, Sigurd tastes a drop of the blood of the dragon Fafnir, as he is roasting Fafnir’s heart for the dwarf Regin to eat, and starts being able to understand bird talk. This to me seems to parallel the ancient Irish story of Fionn mac Cumhaill and the one drop of hot fat from the Salmon of Knowledge that he accidentally tastes while cooking the Salmon for somebody else.
Everything that happens once Gudrún’s shitty family is introduced makes a lot more sense on the second read, and some long-forgotten memories of the plot of The Nibelungenlied are stirring in my brain. I am more clear on the bit where Brynhild tells a whopper (which I support, even if it does get everybody murdered) but am still a bit lost on why one of Gudrún’s brothers is now a werewolf.
The second poem, the Lay of Gudrún, is a SEQUEL, it picks up just after the funeral pyre of Sigurd and Brynhild, this makes more sense now. These poems are very big on ladies wreaking horrible bloody vengeance (which, as mentioned, I support). Gudrún’s horribly bloody vengeance manages to be even more horrible and bloody than Brynhild’s, which is saying something, and it’s a much more gripping story the second time around now that I’ve figured out who Högni is and just generally what’s going on with Atli and the cursed gold. In fact, reading it a second time, I feel dumb because Gudrún actually recaps everything that happens right at the end before she commits suicide. Whoops.
Anyway, these are some delightfully murdery poems, but apparently the order of operations for uncultured philistines like me is: read poems, read notes, read poems again.
The book is probably 30% poem and 70% notes. Ordinarily this would not be a complaint, since old Norse poetry is confusing to me and I definitely need notes! The problem here is that old Norse poetry is so confusing to me that I was still confused after the notes. The style of the poetry is freaking great–stanzas of eight short lines, full of what Professor Tolkien called a “demonic” energy. The poems are constructed to give you just the most-dramatic highlights, barely strung together, so they have the sort of manic pace of the “Previously on…” reel at the beginning of an episode of one of the better sorts of TV shows. The problem here is that those Previously Ons are very helpful to jog your memory if you actually did watch the earlier episodes, but they’re significantly less helpful if you are actually starting a show at Episode 8 or whatever and trying to catch up. Sadly, I am unfamiliar enough with the whole Sigurd myth cycle that I remained gloriously lost the entire time.
That said, what I did experience was still cool enough that it makes me want to get more familiar with this myth cycle so that I can figure out what’s going on and have an experience that was more like my time reading The Death of Arthur. There’s some really bonkers, bloody stuff in here, curses and dragons and poison and cursed gold, and it sounds like Attila the Hun makes an appearance, and clearly this is right up my alley so it’s probably time to read, like, the copy of The Nibelungenlied that I’ve been carting around since I was first introduced to the Baby’s First Germanic Myths version in high school, and maybe track down a copy of either or both of the Eddas.
It just occurred to me that since most of the notes are endnotes to the poems, it might also behoove me to go back and read the poems again now that I’ve read the notes. You can tell how infrequently I read anything remotely difficult that I did not do this as soon as I got to the end of the notes.
::intermission music plays::
OK THIS IS BETTER
I’m definitely spotting some Lord of the Rings-y stuff in the first poem, The Lay of the Völsungs, both in terms of plot elements (a sword shattered and the pieces kept and re-forged later for the chosen one, dragons, dwarves unleashing great evil) and just general vibes. There are also some parallels I can spot between this and other mythology, but I suppose there’s only so many things you can make up before you have to start re-using elements. For example, Sigurd tastes a drop of the blood of the dragon Fafnir, as he is roasting Fafnir’s heart for the dwarf Regin to eat, and starts being able to understand bird talk. This to me seems to parallel the ancient Irish story of Fionn mac Cumhaill and the one drop of hot fat from the Salmon of Knowledge that he accidentally tastes while cooking the Salmon for somebody else.
Everything that happens once Gudrún’s shitty family is introduced makes a lot more sense on the second read, and some long-forgotten memories of the plot of The Nibelungenlied are stirring in my brain. I am more clear on the bit where Brynhild tells a whopper (which I support, even if it does get everybody murdered) but am still a bit lost on why one of Gudrún’s brothers is now a werewolf.
The second poem, the Lay of Gudrún, is a SEQUEL, it picks up just after the funeral pyre of Sigurd and Brynhild, this makes more sense now. These poems are very big on ladies wreaking horrible bloody vengeance (which, as mentioned, I support). Gudrún’s horribly bloody vengeance manages to be even more horrible and bloody than Brynhild’s, which is saying something, and it’s a much more gripping story the second time around now that I’ve figured out who Högni is and just generally what’s going on with Atli and the cursed gold. In fact, reading it a second time, I feel dumb because Gudrún actually recaps everything that happens right at the end before she commits suicide. Whoops.
Anyway, these are some delightfully murdery poems, but apparently the order of operations for uncultured philistines like me is: read poems, read notes, read poems again.