Guide to Troth Clergy Research Projects The purpose of this work is to give Clergy trainees a clear sense of what is sought after in their writings and how best to go about presenting their various findings. As the Troth is in the unique position of drawing heavily both upon historical sources and modern vision and intuition for the understanding of our god/esses and our religion, clear standards of judgement and analysis are necessary to maintain. Thus: Presentation When a statement is made based on someone else's work, references must be given. This applies not only to direct quotations, but to summaries of a discussion and theories put forward by a particular author. In the body of the paper, reference to a secondary source may be limited to (author's last name, Short Title of Book or 'Short Title of Article', p. #): as (Turville-Petre, Myth and Religion, p. 23), or even, if there is only one text cited by that author, (Turville-Petre, p. 23). Avoid the Harvard system (Turville Petre: 1968, p. 28) as it is less informative and more difficult to work with. All works used in the preparation of a paper, whether they are cited or not, must be listed fully in the bibliography. The preferred format is: For primary sources (original sources, as for instance the Eddas and sagas): Title of Work, ed. by Editor's Name, tr. by Translator's Name (Place of Publication: Publisher, Date of Publication). For secondary sources (commentary and analysis of primary sources): Author's Name/Editor's Name, Title of Book, tr. by Translator's Name (Place of Publication: Publisher, Date of Publication). For reference works (dictionaries, museum catalogues, indices): Author's/Editor's Name, Title of Work (Place of Publication: Publisher, Date of Publication). For articles in journals: Author's name. 'Title of Article'. Name of Journal number of journal (date), pages. For articles in anthologies: Author's name. 'Title of Article', in Title of Book, ed. by Editor (Place of Publication: Publisher, Date of Publication). For personal communications (conversation, letter, etc.): Name of Communicator, personal conversation (date)/letter (date). Names should be alphabetized by the first letter of the last name, except when citing Icelandic or Germanic-style patronymics (Alice Karlsdóttir; Finnur Jónsson). In all such cases, the first name should always go first and be alphabetized accordingly: Alice Karlsdóttir would be listed under A, Finnur Jónsson under F. When such names begin with characters that do not exist in the English language, the alternatives are as follows: Standard English convention alphabetizes special characters as if they were ordinary English characters: Á is listed under A, Þ is treated as Th. In Icelandic, characters with acute marks are often alphabetized following the character without the acute mark: A, Á, B. Characters with umlauts can be alphabetized either as if they had no umlauts or they may be listed at the end of the alphabet. The former convention is German, the latter Swedish. Pick one and stick to it. For the convenience of Troth purposes, since we often deal with names and titles in languages which include special characters, other foreign characters may be alphabetized in this order: X,Y,Z,Å,Ä,Ö,Ü,Æ,Ð,OE,Þ Note that this is an artificial construct. Papers submitted to outside publications should, in general, follow the standard English convention. Primary sources should usually be separated from secondary sources. Reference works may be listed separately or cited under secondary sources. When referring to an Eddic poem, the title should be italicized and the verse referred to if appropriate: 'Hávamál 48 tells us...' Page references are unnecessary. When referring to a skaldic poem, the author should be given as well as the title, the title italicized, and the verse referred to if appropriate. When citing a saga, the title should be italicized. The chapter must always be given (either Roman or Arabic numerals are acceptable), even in casual reference, as this allows those who have a different edition than you do to find the reference; the page number should also be given, (though it is not quite as crucial, especially if your edition is out of the ordinary): Ynglinga saga, ch. VII, p. 39. If the saga is within a larger collection, such as Heimskringla or Flateyjarbók, this, too should be referred to in most cases, as some saga-names are duplicated in these collections: Óláfs saga ins helga, Flateyjarbók vol. ii, ch. LVI, p. 223; or Heimskringla's Óláfs saga ins helga. When referring to a physical object, provenance should be given (as: 'The Bentley Grange boar-helm'; 'the Torslunda helm-plate matrices'). If it is not an extremely well-known item, the general date should also be given (tenth-century, Migration Age, early Bronze Age); if the provenance is not immediately obvious, country of origin should be stated together with the place in question ('the early ninth-century ulfhedhinn amulet from Kungsangen, Sweden'). Again, if the item is not extremely well-known, it is preferred that you also cite a text in which the article is mentioned or discussed: 'the eleventh-century ring-holding warrior figure from Daugmale, Latvia (cited in Roesdahl & Wilson, From Viking to Crusader, p. 294, catalogue # 248) or else mention the museum in which you saw it: 'the 7th-century Frankish decapitated-horse burials (Museum für Vor- und Frühgeschichte, Frankfurt)'. When quoting from a text originally written in a foreign language, the original language should ideally be quoted together with your own translation (if possible) or a properly credited translation from elsewhere. Godwo/men are not expected to have even a basic word-recognition capacity in archaic languages and therefore have no need to do this: quoting from standard translations of the Eddas and Sagas is sufficient. Elders should at least have some clue of what the original says, since the generally available translations, particularly of the Poetic Edda, are notoriously inaccurate, especially concerning spiritual vocabulary. This is not as important in regards to the Prose Edda, for which Anthony Faulkes has given us a good, reliable, and readily available translation. Sagas may also be difficult to come by in the original, as the Íslenzk fornrit volumes are not only rather costly, but are published and shipped to bookstores throughout the world with less than perfect efficiency. There is, however, an edition of the Old Norse Poetic Edda (Neckel & Kuhn, 5th ed.), in print and possible to order from the publisher, and there is now an extremely good Eddic Norse > English dictionary which is also in print and possible to order from the publisher (see the Garth reading list in Our Troth for details on both). When writing on a specialized or disputed subject (such as "shamanism"), always be careful to begin by fully defining your terms. A more specific definition is always preferred to a more general one: for instance, the word dís can be used to mean a human kinswoman (Helgakviða Hundingsbana II 51; Reginsmál 11), a living woman of magical powers (Helgakviða Hundingsbana I 16), or generally for any type of female (cf. the phrase "Herjan's (Óðinn's) dísir" for valkyries in Gudhrunakviða I, 19); however, when used without a qualifier (such as "dís of the Skjldings" for Sigrún, kinswoman of the Skjldings, "Vanadís" for Freyja, kinswoman of the Vanir, or "Herjan's dísir" for the valkyries, supernatural daughters/adopted daughters of Odhinn and workers of his will), the term is most often used as a collective to mean "the dead kinswomen who ward their living kin and call them home when the time of their death has come". In its widest sense, the word could apply to all female wights; but if used so widely, it would become effectively meaningless in defining the cult of the female ancestors, as it would mean no more and no less than "Germanic female being". A particularly bad example of indiscriminate generality can be found in Helen Damico's Beowulf's Wealhtheow and the Valkyrie Tradition, in which Damico attempts to prove that Weahltheow is a valkyrie and ends up demonstrating, by the terms of her argument, that all Germanic females of power, including Christian saints such as Juliana, were originally valkyries. Since the word "valkyrie" itself is intensely specialized in the Old Norse poetry (cf. Kveldulfr Gundarsson, 'The Valkyrie in the Cult of Odhinn', Idunna 4:3 (1992), pp. 15-23), this argument is not only unsupportable, but, if accepted as a definer in our religious practice, would lead to a severe distortion of the beliefs of our forebears. When choosing name-forms for gods (Þórr, Thor, Thunar, Thonar, or Donar, for example), it is not necessary, and not even particularly desired, to maintain perfect consistency. What is recommended is that, in discussing any given textual point, the name-form be that used in the text. Thus you might say, 'We know that Wodan has many names. In Grímnismál, Óðinn lists a number of them...' In general writing, it is, however nicer to maintain a certain degree of unity. For instance, a sentence like 'The clan of the Ases includes Wodan and Thor' is rather jarring; it would be better as 'The clan of the Ases includes Wodan and Thonar' or 'The clan of the Æsir includes Óðinn and Þórr'. Sources and Documentation You must always document your material, citing both primary and secondary sources. Not only will this make life easier for those using your work as a springboard for their own research, and demonstrate the authenticity of your statements, but actually looking up the relevant materials may surprise you, as received ideas about 'Norse mythology' and the statements actually made in the sources are not necessarily the same: for instance, although Thonar is often popularly perceived as not being too bright, when his actions, for example, in Alvíssmál and during his journey to Geirrodhr's home (Prose Edda) are considered, he shows himself to be extremely wise and sensible. Never assume that what you take to be the essential character of a god, or for that matter of our forebears, precludes a source from saying what it actually says. An example of such bad practice can be found in Moltke's Runes and their Origins: Denmark and Elsewhere, in which the Korpbron stone's inscription 'sithi Thur', literally, 'Þórr, perform seiðr!' is reinterpreted because 'sitha (with an i-acute or long i - Ed.), work magic, does not seem to make sense - if there was one thing Thor was not at home with, it was black magic and wizardry' and a new, unattested verb sitha (with a short i - Ed.), 'to put something into order' is invented in order to make the inscription fit with Moltke's concept of Þórr as an ordinary hearty bruiser (pp. 243-44, note 6). In fact, there is good argument for Þórr as showing shamanistic traits, and possibly even as having some connection with the arts classed as 'seiðr', given his cross-dressing in Þrymskviða and the association of seiðr with 'unmanliness' (see Our Troth for further discussion). This problem is also a good argument against trusting translations too far: the job of a translator, after all, is to convey the sense as s/he perceives it. A particularly blatant example of distortion in translation appears in Hollander's rendition of Völuspá 5: From the south the sun by the side of the moon,
heaved his right hand over heaven's rim.
the sun knew not what seat he had...
the moon knew not what might she had. In the Old Norse, the second line of this verse simply reads 'the left hand' (hendi inni hgri); while the following lines are 'sól þat né vissi, hvar hon sali átti...máni þat né vissi, hvat hann megins átti': 'the sun did not know where she had a hall...the moon did not know what might he had'. Hollander has arbitrarily transsexualized both sun and moon due to being brainwashed by the Mediterranean sun-god/moon-goddess paradigm! Avoid making sweeping statements based on general ideas. It is often stated, for instance, that the Norse did not kneel before their god/esses, but always prayed standing with head and hands raised. This is simply not true. Norse attitudes of prayer ranged from the standard Asatru position mentioned above to full prostration, as described by ibn Fadlan in his report on the Rus on the Volga; Diana Paxson also lists several other examples of Heathen bending, bowing, and prostration in Our Troth pp. 386-87. Another example can be found in looking at various presentations of the Vanir. They are often presented as 'nature-gods', but this is not always demonstrably the case. Fro Ing has only the vaguest historical connection to the natural world (he fights with a stag-horn at Ragnark, and has control over those aspects of nature which affect agriculture), and the Frowe has none: she is a goddess of riches, battle-strife, sexuality, and magic, but we never see her in the woodlands - nor, for that matter, does she even do anything for the fruitfulness of the cultivated fields. In spite of the fact that she is Vanic and they are Æsic, there is better reason to think Thonar to be a nature-deity and a deity of fruitfulness than there is to think Freyja one, and many more explicit references to Wodan as a god of fruitfulness, both in Old Norse sources such as Heiðreks saga and Völsunga saga and in the widely spread folklore of the Last Sheaf/Wild Hunt (see Our Troth for further discussion). The danger of an exacting analysis of our materials is that it may frequently overturn commonly held and even beloved ideas: what makes it worthwhile is that such analysis brings us closer to the true character of our god/esses as our forebears knew them. Attempts to simplify or to categorize too strictly almost inevitably lead to distortion of the troth of our forebears. The Dumezilian tripartite system, when taken to its extremes, offers a particularly bad example of this. As presented in A Book of Troth, it is stated thus: 'sovereignty must rule over force, and generation must serve the interests of the whole again under the direction of sovereignty...In the Troth, the gods Tiw and Woden are the gods of the sovereign powers of consciousness; Thunar is the god of physical force; and the Wanes, and especially Freya and Frey, are the divinities of generation' (p. 72). This might lead to the idea that Tiw and Woden are somehow superior to, and direct or rule over, Thunar and the Wanes. Since even a casual glance at descriptions of Viking Age worship (Adam of Bremen, Heimskringla, Flateyjarbók) shows us that Þórr and Freyr were seen as 'chief gods' more often than Óðinn, and we never see Óðinn (let alone Týr) as either directing or ruling the other gods in actual practice - not in the Norse literature, not in the fragments surviving on early Germanic religion - (in fact, Snorri's presentation of the Norse pantheon as even somewhat hierarchical shows a strong influence from Classical models), it can thus clearly be observed that to take the Dumezilian system too seriously would be to depart from our forebears' actual beliefs about the relative places of their gods. Such systemization also leads to ignoring or marginalizing significant aspects of our deities: for instance, the magic of Thonar, the strong battle-aspects of Fro Ing and his significant role as god of kingship, and so forth. Another bad example is the tendency to make a Vanic-matriarchal-passive/Æsic-patriarchal-aggressive distinction. The Vanir are, if anything, slightly more male-centered than the Æsir: we note that in the oath-formula given in Landnamabók ch. S309/H270, p. 315, the Yule toasts of Heimskringla's Hákonar saga ins godha ch. 14, p. 168 and Egill Skalla-Grímsson's curse against Eiríkr Blood-Axe and Gunnhildr (Egils saga Skalla-Grímssonar, ch. 56, p. 163) the pair seen is not 'Freyr ok Freyja', but 'Freyr ok Njrðr'. Freyr himself is the holy father of the Ynglings, whose image is recognised by his erect phallus, whereas Freyja never appears as a holy mother of any line (either human or godly). The chief Vanic emblem is the boar, clearly a battle-beast (Freyja's Hildisvíni in Hyndluljóð 7, the Anglo-Saxon/Swedish boar-helms such as that found at Bentley Grange, those referred to in Beowulf 303-06, and those pictured on the Torslunda helm-plate matrices): anyone who thinks that the Vanir are intrinsically either peaceful or passive is recommended to ask a wild boar, or even a farm-raised pig, about the matter. Contrariwise, among the Æsir, we also see the prominence of the Ásynjur - nearly all our goddesses, as far as we can tell, come either from the Æsic clan or from the etins. Thus we see that great care must be taken to prevent theory getting in the way of fact. If a hypothesis contradicts the data, something is wrong with the hypothesis; and citing specifics is the best way to find this out. Do not assume that simply because something is written in an academic text - even a major and recommended one - that it is necessarily true. Always be careful to apply the same close standards of evaluation to your secondary sources that you do to your own work. An example of this might be looking at Rudolf Simek's statement that 'Freyja is descended from the Vanir and is therefore a goddess of fertility' (Dictionary of Northern Mythology, p. 90). Although Simek gives specific references for all his other statements about Freyja, he is unable to document this in the least: it is simply a product of recently (19th-20th century) defined ideas about the Vanir applied as a general assumption. When dealing with a widely accepted consensus, try to avoid statements such as "Several scholars believe..." Instead, write something like, "Many scholars, including Turville-Petre (Myth and Religion, p. 23) and Jan de Vries (Religionsgeschichte, II, p. 97), have accepted the theory that..." Dealing with the sources themselves also presents some problems. The literary sources were all recorded in the post-conversion period. Some of the Eddic poems may well have been composed by Christian antiquarians, and the prose frameworks for the actual verses were certainly written by Christian antiquarians, who can in some cases be demonstrated to have misinterpreted their data (for instance, the identification of the women in the Helgi poems and Völundarkviða as 'valkyries' - the word is specifically not used for these women in the poetry, and the description of valkyries in Þórbjrn hornklofi's Hrafnsmál (ca. 900) and Sigrdrífumál makes it clear that romantic involvement was one of the most specific things that valkyries didn't do as long as they were functioning as valkyries). Accounts of Norse religion given in the sagas were written some two to four hundred years after the conversion (depending on the saga). The Prose Edda, source of most of our stories, is particularly unreliable: not only was Snorri a Christian, albeit one with considerable affection for the old days, but, more importantly, he was trying very hard to create a consistent cosmology and mythic structure for a collection of religious beliefs which had not had such an order previously. His efforts at systemization seem to have involved a fair bit of invention (some of it quite major - for instance, only in the Prose Edda is there any hint that Muspellheimr played any part in the creation of the worlds; it is utterly absent from the accounts of Völuspá andVafþrúðnismál, and elsewhere, as in the Old High German poem Muspilli (Braune & Ebbinghaus, eds., Althochdeutsches Lesebuch) is simply the embodiment of the force which will destroy the world) and a lot of careful snipping and restitching. A certain degree of distortion and Christian contamination is, thus, inevitable: we cannot take our religious materials for granted. The only reliably datable literary sources are skaldic poetry: if a detail from a tale is referred to in a kenning dating from, say, the middle of the tenth century, then chances are that it was well-known to our Heathen forebears. Although the skaldic poetry was not written down until long after the conversion (most of it coming either from Snorri's Skáldskaparmál (a section of the Prose Edda) or via inclusion in various sagas), its highly structured form made it unlikely to be distorted in the process of transmission (which would have rendered it nonsensical), and many of the poems specifically refer to documented historical events, so we may safely take it that skaldic poems were probably composed by the skald to whom they are attributed, at roughly the time generally assigned to them. Para-historical sources (written by people from an outside culture, such as the Roman and Greek historians describing the Germanii, or the English and German historians who wrote about Norse Heathenry) are useful in that they are generally contemporary, but problematical in that, by definition, they are usually written by outsiders who relied heavily on hearsay (as with Adam of Bremen, who never saw the hof at Uppsala), could easily have misunderstood what they did see, and can be suspected of having made things up for the sake of sensationalism (how did the Arabic chronicler ibn Fadlan know all the gory, sexual details of what was going on in that closed tent at the Rus chieftain's funeral on the Volga?). Archaeological/iconographic sources are often useful in sorting genuine belief from antiquarian fancy: for instance, the Alskog Tjängvide and Ardre VIII picture stones (Gotland, 8th century) show us that the belief in Óðinn's eight-legged horse was well and truly established at least by the beginning of the Viking Age. The Torslunda helm-plate matrix (Sweden, Vendel Age), which shows a one-eyed man in a bird-crowned helmet dancing with another man wearing a wolfskin, confirms Snorri's association of the berserks/úlfheðnar with the cult of Óðinn (Ynglinga saga ch. 6, p. 17). However, they, too, can be problematical. Most of us are familiar with the Viking Age Swedish 'valkyrie' pendants which show a woman bearing a drinking horn. The difficulty here is that, although these images are sometimes interpreted as valkyries because of the similarity in dress, hairstyle, and attitude to the women greeting the eight-legged horse on the picture stones (cf. Helen Damico, Beowulf's Wealhtheow and the Valkyrie Tradition), in fact most Norsewomen dressed the same way, and it was the duty of every Germanic woman of good standing to bear drink to guests. Thus, one cannot assume that these pendants represent valkyries: they could equally well be goddesses, idises, or human women. Please do not believe that just because your secondary source identifies a picture as Óðinn, Freyja, or a valkyrie, this identification must be correct. Always attempt to seek out documentation for the item (most archaeological materials are published, and a good source will refer to the major publications on such artifacts), or else state clearly the source of the identification: e.g., "H.R. Ellis-Davidson identifies this belt-buckle as possibly representing one of the Einherjar in 'The Finglesham Man' (Antiquity 39 (1965), pp. 17-32)". The most effective way to deal with unreliable sources (that is, just about all of them) is to cross-reference: if something shows up in a late fourteenth-century saga, Snorri, an Eddic poem, a skaldic poem, an iconographic depiction, and a Roman para-historical description, then it is extremely safe to say that it is genuine. An example of this would be Óðinn's role as god of the hanged: he receives sacrifice in this manner in Gautreks saga (Fornaldar sgur III, p. 24); Snorri mentions his relationship with hanged men in Ynglinga saga ch. 7, p. 18; Hávamál 138-39 describes his own hanging; skalds refer to him as Hangaguð and Hangi, among other epithets describing him as both hanged and ruler of the hanged (Meissner, Die Kenningar der Skalden, p. 254); an Odhinnic hanging-sacrifice, complete with tree and noose, spear, valknútr, and an eagle being offered for sacrifice beside the men, appears on the Larbrö St. Hammars I picture-stone (Gotland, eighth century), and Tacitus mentions the gibbets prepared by Hermann the Cheruscan for his Roman captives, together with the sacrifice in the holy groves (Annals I, LXI, pp. 346-48). Obviously we are not lucky enough to have this much data for every problem we face; but the more diverse sources that can be gathered in support of a statement, the likelier it is to reflect accurately the religion of our forebears. When dealing with major concepts, it is especially important to get a sense of their position in Germanic thought through linguistic analysis. Terms such as 'numinous' and 'hypostasis' may sound very well in modern scholastic English, but what would they have meant to our forebears? We must be careful not to let our bastardized language impose foreign concepts upon our religion. An example of a problematic case in this respect would be the definition of Wodan as 'a god of ecstasy'. There is no native Germanic word corresponding to 'ecstasy': the closest we come to it, wod, means 'violent physical frenzy', without implying the modern sense of pleasure or, as the word literally means, 'being taken out of oneself'. Our forebears literally could not have conceived of Wodan as a 'god of ecstasy' because their language prevented it! Whether we experience him as such today is another matter altogether - but the question here would be to what degree we risk reinterpreting our deities through the lens of a foreign culture, and to what degree such adaptation is desirable or even wise. Some are of the opinion that it is appropriate, since the god/esses may grow and reflect us even as we grow and reflect them; others hold that beginning by understanding the god/esses as our forebears knew them, even when they were dark and bloody (as Wodan often was), is better than the reinterpretation and perhaps sanitization of them through the lens of modern metaphysics. Intuitive Materials: The first problem for a researcher who also experiences his/her religion personally is the question of how, and whether, to separate personal intuition from that which can be demonstrated in the sources. As our sources are by no means comprehensive, especially in regards to figures whom we suspect to have been important but are not told a great deal about (for instance, Eir and Heimdallr), we often find ourselves with no choice but to rely on intuition, which, particularly in the difficult task of reconstructing an insufficiently documented religion, can be as valuable as documentable historical research. In dealing with materials gained in this manner, there are several things to keep in mind: 1. When dealing with a subject that is well-documented in the sources, begin by collecting all the material available and citing it before you go on to discuss your personal inspirations. A discussion of the cult of the alfs, for instance, would begin with discussion of the common phrase 'Ases and alfs' in the Poetic Edda; the álfablót of Sigvatr Þorðarson's Austrfaravísur; the sacrifice made to the alfs for healing in Kormáks saga ch. 22, p. 288; the etymological theories concerning the origin of the 'alf'-word; names and sayings incorporating 'Alf'; and some folklore of the alfs. With this groundwork established, you can then go on to explain your own understanding and/or experiences with these wights. 2. If your intuitive understanding of a subject that is not directly documented is supported by, or hinted at in any way by, an historical source, please cite that source fully and explain the exact relationship. For instance, in Texas we have felt for a long time that Thonar is the god to call on against tornados. This is made obvious by his name (Thunder) which associates him with storms; his function of protecting humans, whereby his titles verliða vinr (friend of the human hosts - Hymiskviða 11) and Miðgarðs Veurr (Warder of the holy steads of the Middle-Garth - Voluspa 56); and his battles with the Middle-Garth's Wyrm (Hymiskvidha, Voluspa), as the tornado is literally a 'sky-wyrm'. This is, thus, a fairly safe conclusion to come to, and indeed fits more into the realm of sensible extrapolation than of spiritual enlightenment. A more difficult problem is the relationship of Fro Ing with nature. Many have intuitively felt this, but in the sources, his fertility-aspects deal entirely with harvest (Snorra Edda; Ynglinga saga ch. 10, pp. 23-25; Heimskringla's Hakonar saga ins godha ch. 14, p. 168) and human fruitfulness (Adam of Bremen mentions him being invoked for weddings - Gesta Hammaburgensis Ecclesiae Pontificum, ch. 26, p. 470). Only Snorri's reference (Snorra Edda) to Freyr fighting Surtr with a stag-horn at Ragnarok gives us a hint that Freyr might have some connection with the wilds. In such a case, the reference to Snorri must be given, and thereafter discussion of Fro Ing as a god of the woodland, wild beasts, and so forth must be framed in terms of, 'In modern times, Fro Ing is often perceived as being/doing/relating to...' or even, 'I personally have felt/experienced Fro Ing in this manner'. So long as a clear distinction is made, no one can fault you for excessive enthusiasm in interpreting the sources. Sometimes intuition is marginally or indirectly supported, and conclusions which may be useful, if not necessarily historically valid, can thus be reached. For instance, it is a documentable fact that well-off Migration Age women wore belt-hangings consisting of a rock crystal sphere set in silver nestled in the bowl of a silver spoon, which were apparently female status symbols and/or amulets of some sort (Owen-Crocker, Gale, Dress in Anglo-Saxon England, p. 58) and could have been used for scrying, though we do not know that they were. In modern times, at least three people (two of whom are Troth Elders) have independently felt that rock crystal and silver were Frija's favourite ornaments. Since Frija is one of the most notable of the goddesses (status symbol-function), a seeress (scrying-function), and the frowe of home, hearth, and cooking (the spoon), women today might well wear such items as her amulets. This does not, however, mean that the women who wore them in the Migration Age saw them as having any connection with her! This is something which, unless hitherto undiscovered documents come to light, we can never know. Thus, it is right to say that we can interpret these amulets in this fashion and use them today in the cult of Frija for this reason; it is absolutely wrong to say, 'Migration Age women often wore crystal sphere/spoon belt-hangings as amulets of Frija'. 3. If your intuition is something that is entirely unsupported, and unsupportable, by the sources, state it clearly as such. An example of this would be the colours which we are coming to associate with various gods and goddesses. Wodan's blue-black (bla'r) cloak is documented in Volsunga saga ch. 11, p. 28 and the introductory prose of Grimnismal, but nowhere, for instance, is Eir's garb described. In visions, however, folk today often see her in green and/or white. The best way to present such intuitions is, 'Although no information concerning this has survived, Eir appears in modern visions as dressed in green and/or white (and it is all the better if specific people can be cited on this; in this case, Gefjon Cleghorn and Siegroa Lyfjagydhja) and therefore we now take these to be her colours'. 4. If your intuition actively contradicts the sources, you are in trouble. The Warder of the Lore has seen both 'The warlike Æsir conquered the peaceful Vanir' and 'the Vanir won the war by subtle tactics'. Both, in fact, are in direct contradiction to the description in Snorra Edda: the war ended in a truce, sealed by the exchange of hostages and the creation of Kvasir. This truce leads into one of our more significant events, the brewing and winning of the mead of poetry, which could not have happened if one side or the other had conquered. When researching an obscure deity, often the name may be the main clue to the nature. Please do not ignore it. To invent a gross example, the name of Thonar's daughter is Trude (Old Norse Thru'dhr), meaning 'strength'. If one were to intuitively sense her as a delicate, helpless maiden, one's intuition would be in serious need of a check-up. Etymological analyses may be found in Rudolf Simek's Dictionary of Northern Mythology and Jan de Vries' Altnordisches Etymologisches Worterbuch. Book-Hoard Primary Sources: Althochdeutsches Lesebuch, ed. by Wilhelm Braune and Ernst A. Ebbinghaus, 16th edn. (Tuebingen: Niemeyer, 1979). Annals I, Cornelius Tacitus, in Tacitus III, ed. by J.P. Goold, tr. by John Jackson, Loeb Classical Library (Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard University Press, 1931, rep. 1979). Edda, Snorri Sturluson, ed. and tr. by Anthony Faulkes (J. M. Dent & Sons, Ltd.: London, 1987) Edda: Die Lieder des Codex Regius nebst verwandten Denkmalern, ed. by Gustav Neckel, rev. by Hans Kuhn, 3rd edn. (Heidelberg: Carl Winter, 1962). Edda Snorra Sturlusonar, ed. by Finnur Jónsson (Copenhagen: Nordisk Forlag, 1931) Gautreks saga, in Fornaldar sogur (3 vols.), ed. by Valdimar Asmundarsson (Reykjavik: vol. 1, Sigmundur Guðmundsson; vols. 2-3, Sigurður Kristjansson, 1885-93). Gesta Hammaburgensis Ecclesiae Pontificum, Adamus Bremensis, in Fontes Saeculorum Noni et Undecimi Historiam Ecclesiae Hammaburgensis Necnon Imperii Illustrantes, ed. by Werner Trillmich and Rudolf Buchner, Ausgewaehlte Quellen zur Deutschen Geschichte des Mittelalters, 11 (Darmstadt: Wissenschaftliche Buchgesellschaft, 1961). Hakonar saga ins godha, in Heimskringla I, ed. by Bjarni Adhalbjarnarson. Islenzk fornrit 26 (Reykjavik: Hidh islenzka fornritafelag, 1979) Heimskringla I, ed. by Bjarni Adhalbjarnarson. Islenzk fornrit 26 (Reykjavik: Hidh islenzka fornritafelag, 1979). Kormaks saga, ed. by Einar Ol. Sveinsson. Islenzk fornrit 5 (Reykjavik: Hidh islenzka fornritafelag, 1939). Landnamabok, ed. by Jakob Benediktsson. Islenzk fornrit 1 (Reykjavik: Hidh islenzka fornritafelag, 1936). Den Norsk-Islandske Skjaldedigtning, 4 vols., ed. by Finnur Jónsson (Leutershausen: Strauss & Kramer, 1912-15, repr. Copenhagen: Rosenkilde & Bagger, 1967-73). Poetic Edda, ed. and tr. by Lee Hollander (Austin: University of Texas Press, 1962). Volsunga saga ok Ragnars saga Lodhbrokar, ed. by Magnus Olsen (Copenhagen: Møller, 1906-08) Ynglinga saga, in Heimskringla I, ed. by Bjarni Adhalbjarnarson. Islenzk fornrit 26 (Reykjavik: Hidh islenzka fornritafelag, 1979). Reference Works Meissner, Rudolf, Die Kenningar der Skalden (Bonn: Schroeder, 1921). Roesdahl, Else, and David M. Wilson, eds., From Viking to Crusader: The Scandinavians and Europe 800-1200 (New York: Rizzoli, 1992). Simek, Rudolf, Dictionary of Northern Mythology, tr. by Angela Hall (Cambridge: Brewer, 1993). de Vries, Jan, Altnordisches Etymologisches Worterbuch, 2nd edn. (Leiden: Brill, 1962, repr. 1977). Secondary Sources Damico, Helen, Beowulf's Wealhtheow and the Valkyrie Tradition (Madison: University of Wisconsin Press, 1984). Edred Thorsson, A Book of Troth (St. Paul: Llewellyn, 1989). Davidson, H.R. Ellis, and S.C. Hawkes, 'The Finglesham Man', Antiquity, 39 (1965), 17-32. Moltke, Erik, Runes and their Origins: Denmark and Elsewhere (Copenhagen: National Museum of Denmark, 1985). KveldulfR Gundarsson, ed., Our Troth (Seattle: The Ring of Troth, 1994). Kveldulfr Gundarsson, 'The Valkyrie in the Cult of Odhinn', Idunna 4:3 (1992), pp. 15-23. Owen-Crocker, Gale R., Dress in Anglo-Saxon England (Manchester: Manchester University Press, 1986). Turville-Petre, E.O.G., Myth and Religion of the North (London: Weidenfeld & Nicolson, 1964). de Vries, Jan, Altgermanische Religionsgeschichte, 3rd edn. (2 vols.) (Berlin: de Gruyter, 1956). |
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