1

Norse Mythology: The Faith of My Forefathers

Presented at the Unitarian Church of Montreal Sunday November 14, 2004

By Dr. Gunnar K. Sletmo

The Norse Universe
The readings from the Edda we just heard on Creation and Odin are part of
Norse myths, stories passed from generation to generation. There is no holy
book, no divine revelation, no commandments written in stone. In fact, there is
no religion in any traditional sense.

Snorre Sturlason, that greatest of all Norse song-smiths, tells us that time and
universe stem from opposites, cold and warm, good and evil, gods and giants.
The elements, rather than being created by an All-Mighty, are the source from
which life springs forth, in the shape of a monstrous clay giant, Ymir, and one
enormous cow, Audhumla who gave life to the Asa-gods, forefathers of Odin.

In the Norse universe gods are human (and mortal) and men seek (or steal)
knowledge from gods and jotner (giants) alike. And when some day Ragnarok
comes – the ultimate battle – men shall fight alongside the gods against the
jotner.

There is no real word for “faith” (fides) in Nordic languages. Instead the word
“tru” is used, a word that refers to loyalty. These were (and are) cultures where
man survived in a harsh environment by his wits and courage and through
honorable solidarity among brothers and neighbors.

A Personal Journey
This subject is a rather personal one, a journey into childhood memories, into
dreams and nightmares, recalling bedside stories and mountain hikes. As I
reflect and relive the stories of the Sagas, Odin, Thor and Loki are no longer
mysterious images simply appearing in books; they have become living
creatures, part of who I am.

I was born into a state church, The Norwegian Lutheran Church, but my blood
already carried the memory of an older religion. It is only in adult life that I
discovered that while I became Christian by studying, I was always a pagan.
Except we do not call ourselves pagan. We are Norsemen, “people of the
north”. More remarkably perhaps, I discover that this is what profoundly ties
me to my homeland. It is with the voices of skalder, the heroic poets of the

Presented at the Unitarian Church of Montreal Sunday November 14, 2004. Rev. November 23, 2004

2

Sagas, that Norway’s rolling hills and stark mountains, shimmering fiords and
dark lakes, blue glaciers and rocky beaches call me back again and again.

My childhood landscape was full of little mysterious mounds that were fun to
play on – they were Viking graves. I did not know then that my forefathers’
spirits lived there. Our home was on the west side of Viken, the homeland of
my traveling ancestors. My childhood was full of places and names going back
to the beginning of times, or so it seemed. My sister’s house was called
Aasberg, Mountain of the Gods. Most houses and farms still have names going
back to early settlement of the region more than a thousand years ago. And I
went hiking in Jotunheimen the home of jotner, and in Dovre, the mountain of
the trolls. All so wonderfully real then, comforting now.

I like to think that my Norse heritage came with my father’s seed. He was a
Christian wearing dark suits on Sunday, but I have come to understand he loved
the history of our land as much as the Bible, maybe even more. He was ready to
give his life for our freedom, that is to preserve our heritage, our way of life.

My father read fairytales to me when I was ill and feverish; he interpreted
nature to me and made me see and hear the hidden world of elves, of hulder and
trolls. I learnt to listen to Thor’s hammer smiting Dovre in the summer. And to
listen to trolls and wolves under star-lit skies in the dark, frigid forest. This is
not book learning to be memorized and then forgotten some day; this is visceral
knowledge that shall stay with me to the end.

These stories are not mine alone. They belong to a nation, long struggling to
regain its national identity after centuries as a minor Danish province. When
Henrik Ibsen wrote his play, Peer Gynt, he borrowed heavily from Norse
mythology and legends. He wrote at a time when it was felt that Norwegian
culture was nearly obliterated by centuries of dominance by the far more urban
and modern Denmark. Ibsen in this play links the Norwegian character directly
to old legends that are specifically Norwegian (so much so that the play loses
something in translation). Grieg’s accompanying music draws on old
Norwegian folk songs and dances that reinforce the mythical, magic words and
moods of Ibsen’s poetry.

Bipolar Energies: Functioning Cosmos against Energy-Filled Chaos
The basic myth in Norse mythology is one where the existential energies are
bipolar. Like magnets, they both attract and repel each other. The role of gods
and people is to create a functioning cosmos in an energy-filled chaos.

Presented at the Unitarian Church of Montreal Sunday November 14, 2004. Rev. November 23, 2004

3

Existence is inexorably dynamic, everything is in flux and the order of the
universe is vulnerable.

The tension between jotner and gods frequently involve attraction, seduction, or
rejection. Eros is a fundamental life force that brings love and hate and thus can
deeply affect the equilibrium of a fragile cosmos.

Death is a transition to a new world with greater opportunities and our
ancestors are our providers. Therefore, their tombs must be close to the
survivors. There is Eros also in death and death may be chosen as a source of
knowledge.

In one myth a man meets a rider in the forest, a woman riding a wolf, using live
serpents for harness. She is a jotun woman and invites him to join her but he is
free to refuse. If he does ride with her, it may change him forever and he may
gain unique knowledge. But he may also end up as her slave and die in
captivity. The attraction to the woman may be fatal or it may enable him to
acquire new knowledge to be used in the service of mankind. It is a dangerous
game whose outcome depends on the man’s fortitude and his ability to outwit
the jotun woman.

The search for knowledge is ever present in this running battle between jotner,
gods and humans. Wisdom is the highest good but to find it man may have to
accept the risk of riding with the jotun woman or other forces of the outer
world.

As a child I learnt that the Saga says, “Norsemen will travel far”. Our beloved
19

th

century poet, Bjørnson wrote a poem all children learnt by heart:

"Undrer mig paa hvad jeg faar at se - over de høie fjelde ... "

“I wonder what I shall see beyond the high mountains…” This wonderment
was also an impulsion, rooted in the Viking’s world vision.

The tension between the urge to travel and the need for roots seems to increase
as we get farther away yet we are driven in our search for new experiences. In
the Viking world identity is grounded in the family, in the family farm, the tribe
(“slekt”). This collective unit is closely tied to a landscape where every
physical feature is known and remembered as if they were the lines and
wrinkles of a beloved face. At the center of it all is the old tree in the middle of

Presented at the Unitarian Church of Montreal Sunday November 14, 2004. Rev. November 23, 2004

4

the farmyard, surrounded by buildings. This is the place one always wants to
return to.

The Norse Cosmos
Every religion has a spatial concept of its cosmos. Traditional Christian religion
can be said to have a vertically arranged universe with heaven above, the
human race down on earth, and the devil in the underworld, deep below
ground. And you cannot travel from one to other except collectively at
judgment day.

The Vikings saw their cosmos as horizontal, consisting of three concentric
circles. Aasgaard, the land and farms of the main gods, is at the core of this
universe. This is a place somewhat like a traditional Norwegian farmland with
individual farms dispersed over a rather sparsely settled landscape.

The human world is the next circle, surrounding that of the gods. This second
circle is known as Midgaard (the farm and land in the middle) Midgaard is
surrounded by ocean and fenced in by Midgaardsormen – the Midgaard
Serpent who holds the world together by biting his own tail, thus making a full
circle around Midgaard. This serpent is an outsider of the jotun family. Thus
people are caught between the gods on the one hand and the jotner (singular:
jotun) on the other.

The jotner live in Utgaard (the outer farm or land) which is the third and final
circle of the Viking universe. Jotner go back to the beginning before gods
existed. Like gods, they are beings in possession of power. Their diversity in
nature and appearance can match that of the eccentric bar scene in Star wars.
Many of these beings are ‘shape shifters’ who can camouflage themselves as
plants, animals or beautiful women, hulder (those dangerous seductresses of the
forest, beautiful in front, cow tail hidden in the back).

They are the adversaries of gods and people and because of their great age and
experience may be both smarter and wiser than gods. Besides, they also possess
objects and remedies that the gods desperately need and want.

Utgaard is a dangerous place and anyone who wanders in there risks never
returning or returning transformed forever. But it is in Utgaard that knowledge
and fresh energy can be found. Exploring it and battling the mights – the
“powers” or “forces” which reside there – constitute vital obligations. If this is
not done, the balance of forces and with it, cosmos, will be destroyed.

Presented at the Unitarian Church of Montreal Sunday November 14, 2004. Rev. November 23, 2004

5

Mountains and rivers, sea and ocean are the borders of Utgaard. Voyages into
this unknown are at the core of Viking myths and the old Sagas. Such travels
are more than lifelines to other worlds. They are a fulfillment of duty and bring
honor to travelers and their families.

Shame, Not Sin
The Norse gods are not ethical beings and they are neither “good” nor
righteous. They are capable of betrayal and trickery. Especially Odin, the
central god, is good at such acts. The jotner are not all bad but they are full of
energy (which is a desirable thing).

There is no “sin” to be forgiven. In its place we find honor and shame and
many unwritten rules of behavior. Those who violate these rules, risk the
ultimate condemnation, to be expelled from society, to become fredløse, those
without peace, the outlaws, les sans-repos. To be thus condemned means living
at the outer fringes, in Utgaard, where dangerous creatures roam. Yet, even that
might not mean the end. While the Christian hell is a one-way affair, Utgaard is
a place where the brave and intrepid may survive and come back stronger.

Battle of Gods and Jotner Ending in Ragnarok
Norse myths treat the opposing forces of existence as an ever-lasting battle
between the gods and the jotner, a battle not unlike that of fighting lovers. Love
and hate both play a role. This is far removed from the Christian dichotomy of
good and evil. Instead we find a diverse, differentiated, ever changing struggle
where sophisticated strategies, clever distractions and treason abound. Gods
and jotner are both strong groups, neither is entirely good, neither is entirely
bad. Each has weaknesses and strengths. Neither group possesses absolute
power or absolute knowledge. The gods seek to maintain a cosmos of order
while the jotner represent chaos and creativity. Both the order-seeking gods and
the energetic and creative jotner are necessary for cosmos to survive. But to
maintain cosmos is a constant battle. Battle is good. It is the source of vitality
and knowledge.

Norse farms are typically built around a courtyard (tun). In the middle there is
the revered and precious tun tree, usually an ash. This tree symbolizes the
family and its generations and the tree must never be damaged. On special
occasions it may be watered with beer and also given other offerings.

Presented at the Unitarian Church of Montreal Sunday November 14, 2004. Rev. November 23, 2004

6

The Yard Tree and even Yggdrasil, the World Tree, shall come to an end some
day. And so shall cosmos itself. This end is Ragnarok, the ‘end of the mights’
i.e., gods and jotner alike.

Where Does the Story End?
Our little story has to end but the Sagas were never-ending stories. What finally
is the message I learnt from my father? First and foremost, that we have every
right, even an obligation, to pick fruit from the Tree of Knowledge; that one has
to fight for knowledge and that one may die seeking it.

My forefathers believed risk taking and bravery bring honor. Betrayal and
timidity carry shame. These are the stories of proud peoples striving for
survival under harsh conditions. They were small farmers and fishermen yet
their beliefs propelled them to distant corners of the known universe – and
beyond. No better death than that in battle.

This concept of fight is not one just of war. It is valid for all aspects of life. It
applies equally to men, women and children. Courage to go it alone, to walk
into the unknown, to seek knowledge and a wider horizon is not only an ideal
but a duty.

I am grateful to Odin that my father was a true Norseman who knew where
hulder and jotner lived, who could speak in the voice of a troll and who could
smell Christian blood just like trolls do, a man who transformed wolves and
bears into friends, and who walked strong and fearlessly into Utgaard, ready to
die for that which he knew was right.

Presented at the Unitarian Church of Montreal Sunday November 14, 2004. Rev. November 23, 2004