Sunday, August 03, 2008

Blood and Fire

If you haven't read Njal's Saga you really should. For one, it's an excellent yarn, full of fighting, feuding, marrying, piracy, war, witchcraft and courtroom drama. Though it's a long book, the chapters are very short and written in the clear, limpid prose of Grimm's märchen. Don't worry about the cast of hundreds, the numerous genealogies and almost complete absence of plot; most of the characters are bit-parts so there are only about a dozen you have to keep track of, you can skip the genealogies (although for my part some of the best stuff was in those footnotes), and the lack of coherent plot is actually one of its advantages. Basically it's a tale about how one tiny event escalates into the murder of an entire family (Njal and his sons). A man lies to his lover that he doesn't have a bride waiting for him at home. She knows he's lying (does he take her for a fool?). This small moment, like the proverbial butterfly's wing, sets in motion a chain of events that has hideous consequences for a family in no way connected with the original fib.

What makes Njal's Saga so gripping is that events are driven as much by a desire for glory and the redemption of honour, as they are by pettiness, spite, tale-bearing and envy. And yet there are no clear villains, just people getting in each other's way, taking umbrage, sulking and killing for no real defined goals. It's a story of the human condition, eat your heart out Sinclair Lewis.

There are also some interesting historical aspects. If you read between the lines, you get an inkling of the environmental crisis that was gradually looming on the horizon (see Jared Diamond's Collapse for more detail on why Iceland's colonies survived where Greenland's failed). And while you would think that the Vikings' favourite activity was raiding and fighting - and don't get me wrong, there is plenty of that - it turns out that what the Vikings most enjoyed was summoning each other to court. Yes, Vikings were the original bastard lawyers: tripping each other up with proceedural errors, declaring mistrials, transferring cases to courts where they would get a more favourable hearing, the Vikings wrote the book on that (except they didn't because it was all oral tradition, but you get my meaning). In fact, considering the ingrained tendency towards violence in the society, one has the suspicion that the legal code was deliberately geared towards encouraged these kind of proceedural tangles to absorb the murderous impulses of the protagonists. Given that the Viking althing forms the basis of Anglo-Saxon law that explains a lot. It makes me wish my grandfather was still alive; the distinction between Anglo-Saxon and Roman system of constitutional law was one of his pet subjects, I bet he would have something to say about the self-sustaining pattern of suit and counter-suit that makes up the last section of Njal's Saga.

And now, some of my favourite bits:

1) Hallgerd
Beautiful, seductive, proud, maddening, spiteful and lethal, Hallgerd ranks among the great femme fatales of literature. Like the Queen of Hearts from Alice in Wonderland, Hallgerd has the same solution for all her problems: the death of the perpetrator. Watching Hallgerd despatch yet another thrall to do some killing, her mother-in-law exclaims in exasperation "Housewives around here have managed well enough without resorting to manslaughter". Hallgerd responds as generations of women have to their MIL's criticism by ignoring her.

Here's another classic Hallgerd moment with her husband Gunnar:

"Gunnar rode to the Althing. Before he left home, he said to Hallgerd, 'Behave yourself while I am away, and don't try any mischief on my friends.'
'The trolls take your friends', she replied."

I believe I have heard my mother say much the same words to my father.

2) Sam the Dog
In the Platonic perfection of forms, the concept 'Dog' must be represented by the Irish wolfhound Sam. Intelligent, noble, courageous, the death of Sam is a tragic moment, heralding the even more tragic death of his master...

3) The death of Gunnar
The peerless hero of the Saga, Gunnar's siege and death is a terrific fight, marked with the laconic humour that characterises much of the Saga's dialogue, such as this exchange between two of the beseigers:

"Gizur looked up at Thorgrim and asked 'Is Gunnar at home?'
'That's for you to find out,' replied Thorgrim. 'But I know that his halberd certainly is.'
And with that he fell dead."

Gunnar is eventually overcome by his enemies when his bow-string breaks and Hallgerd refuses to give him her hair to restring the bow because she is in a mood. Have I mentioned that Hallgerd is seriously bad news to all her husbands?

4) Thangbrand converts Iceland to Christianity: Viking-Stylee

By all accounts Iceland converted to Christianity with alacrity, possibly encouraged by the thought that Christianity's dim view of murder might break the cycle of vengeance-killings (it didn't, at least not immediately). Nevertheless there was some opposition, but nothing could withstand the missionary zeal of Bishop Thangbrand. Thangbrand's most impressive public relations coup involved beating up a beserker with his crucifix.

5) The Battle of Clontarf
Super battle, but actually what struck me most about this is that I'm sure the Valkyrie hymn was quoted in an issue of 2000 AD's Slaine. This got me to thinking about the glory days when Pat Mills was actually a good writer.

So there we are. Next: Lavinia.

1 comment:

mylescorcoran said...

Glorious. I've had a copy of this on my shelf for years but never got round to reading it. I will now.

"The trolls take your friends." Beautiful.