Part 5

What our mythic records tell us about the sons of Ölvaldi and the sons of Ivaldi is under such circumstances to be regarded as fragments which come to us from one and the same original myth. When combined, the fragments are found to dovetail together and form one whole. Völundarkviða 28 indicates that something terrible, something that in the highest degree aroused his indignation and awakened his deep and satanic thirst for revenge, had happened to Völund ere he, accompanied by his brothers, betook himself to the wintry wilderness, where he smithied the sword of revenge and the gand rings; and the poem makes Völund add that this injustice remained to be avenged when he left the Wolf-dales. It lies in the nature of the case that the saga about Völund did not end where the fragment of the Völundarkviða which we possess is interrupted. The balance of the saga must have related what Völund did to accomplish the revenge which he still had to take, and how the effort to take vengeance resulted. The continuation probably also had something to say about that swan-maid, that dis of vegetation, who by the name Hervör Alvitur spends nine years with Völund in the Wolfdales, and then, seized by longing, departs with the other swan-maids, but of whose faithful love Völund is perfectly convinced (Völundarkviða 11). While Völund is Nidad's prisoner, the hope he has built on the sword of revenge and victory smithied by him seems to be frustrated. The sword is in the power of Mimir-Nidad, the friend of the gods. But the hope of the plan of revenge must have awakened again when Svipdag, Völund's nephew, succeeded in coming up from the lower world with the weapon in his possession. The conflict between the powers of frost and the kinsmen of Ivaldi, who had deserted the gods, on the one side, and the gods and their favourite Halfdan, the Teutonic patriarch, on the other side, was kindled anew (see No. 33). Halfdan is repulsed, and finally falls in the war in which Völund got satisfaction by the fact that his sword conquered Thor's Mjölnir and made Thor retreat. But once more the hope based on the sword of revenge is frustrated, this time by the possessor of the sword itself, Völund's young kinsman, who - victor in the war, but conquered by the love he cherished for Freyja, rescued by him - becomes the husband of the fair asynje and gives the sword of Völund to Frey, the god of the harvests. That, in spite of this crossing of his plan of revenge, Völund still did not give it up may be taken for granted. He is described not only as the most revengeful, but also as the most persistent and patient person (see "Deor the Scald's Complaint"), when patience could promote his plans. To make war on the gods with the aid of the giants, when the sword of victory had fallen into the hands of the latter, could not give him the least hope of success. After the mythology has given Völund satisfaction for the despicable judgment passed on the products of his skill, it unites the chain of events in such a manner that the same weapon which refuted the judgment and was to cause the ruin of the gods became their palladium against its own maker. What was Völund able to do afterwards, and what did he do? The answer to this question is given in the myth about Thjazi. With Idunn - the Hervör Alvitur of the heroic poem - he confined himself in a mountain, whose halls he presumably decorated with all the wonders which the sagas of the middle ages, describing splendid mountain-halls and parks within the mountains, inherited from the mythology. The mountain must have been situated in a region difficult of access to the gods - according to Skáldskaparmál in Jötunheim. At all events, Thjazi is there secure against every effort to disturb him, forcibly, in his retreat. The means against the depredations of time and years which Idunn possesses have their virtue only when in her care. Without this means, even the gods of Asgard are subject to the influence of time, and are to grow old and die. And in the sense of a myth symbolising nature, the same means must have had its share in the rejuvenation of creation through the saps rising every year in trees and herbs. The destruction of the world - the approach of which Völund wished to precipitate with his sword of revenge - must come slowly, but surely, if Idunn remains away from Asgard. This plan is frustrated by the gods through Loki, as an instrument compelled by necessity - compelled by necessity (Haustlaung 11), although he delighted in the mischief of deceiving even his allies. Near Thjazi's mountain-halls is a body of water, on which he occasionally rows out to fish (Skáldskaparmál). Once, when he rows out for this purpose, perhaps accompanied by Skadi, Idunn is at home alone. Loki, who seems to have studied his customs, flies in a borrowed feather guise into the mountain and steals Idunn, who, changed into a nut, is carried in his claws through space to Asgard. But the robbing of Idunn was not enough for Loki. He enticed Thjazi to pursue. In his inconsiderate zeal, the latter dons his eagle guise and hastens after the robber into Asgard's vaferflames, where he falls by the javelins of the gods and by Thor's hammer. Sindri's work, the one surpassed by Völund, causes his death, and is avenged. I have already pointed out that this event explains Loki's words to Idunn in Lokasenna, where he speaks of the murder of one of the Ivaldi sons, and insists that she, Idunn, embraced the one who caused his death.

The fate of the great artist and his tragical death help to throw light on the character of Loki and on the part he played in the mythology. Ivaldi's sons are, in the beginning, the zealous friends of the gods, and the decorators and protectors of their creation. They smithy ornaments, which are the symbols of vegetation; and at their outpost by the Elivagar they defend the domain of vegetation against Jötunheim's powers of frost. As I have already stated, they are, like the Ribhus, at the same time heroes, promoters of growth, and artists of antiquity. The mythology had also mannfestly endowed the sons of Ivaldi with pleasing qualities - profound knowledge of the mysteries of nature, intelligence, strength, beauty, and with faithfulness toward their beloved. We find that, in time of adversity, the brothers were firmly united, and that their swan-maids love them in joy and in distress. For the powers of evil it was, therefore, of the greatest moment to bring about strife between the gods and these their "sworn men". Loki, who is a geðreynir (Þórsdrápa), "a searcher of the qualities of the soul," a "tempter of the character," has discovered in the great artist of antiquity the false but hitherto unawakened qualities of his character - his ambition and irreconcilable thirst for revenge. These qualities, particularly the latter, burst forth fully developed suddenly after the injustice which, at Loki's instigation, the gods have done to the sons of Ivaldi. The thirst for revenge breaks out in Thjazi-Völund in a despicable misdeed. There is reason for assuming that the terrible vengeance which, according to the heroic saga, he took against Nidad, and which had its counterpart in the mythology itself, was not the worst crime which the epic of the Teutonic mythology had to blame him for. Hárbarðsljóð 20 alludes to another and worse one. Speaking of Thjazi (19), Hárbarður-Loki [*] there boasts that -

harðan jötun
eg hugða Hlébarð vera,
gaf hann mér gambantein,
en eg vélta hann úr viti.

[* Holtzmann and Bergmann have long since pointed out that Harbard is identical with Loki. The idea that Harbard, who in every trait is Loki in Lokasenna, and, like him, appears as a mocker of the gods and boasts of his evil deeds and of his success with the fair sex, should be Odin, is one of the proofs showing how an unmethodical symbolic interpretation could go astray. In the second part of this work I shall fully discuss Hárbarðsljóð. Proofs are to be found from the last days of heathendom in Iceland that it was then well known that the Harbard who is mentioned in this poem was a foe of the gods.]

Harbard-Loki here speaks of a giant who, in his mind, was a valiant one, but whose "senses he stole," that is, whom he "cunningly deprived of thought and reflection". There are two circumstances to which these words might apply. The one concerns the giant-builder who built the Asgard-wall, and, angry on account of the trick by which Loki cheated him out of the compensation agreed on, rushed against the gods and was slain by Thor. The other concerns Thjazi, who, seeing his beloved carried away by Loki and his plan about to be frustrated, recklessly rushed into his certain ruin. The real name of the giant alluded to is not given, but it is indicated by the epithet Hlébarður, which, according to the Younger Edda (Nafnaþulur), is a synonym of Vargur and Gyldir. It has already been shown above that Vargur in Þórsdrápa and Fjallgyldir in Haustlaung are epithets of Thjazi. Loki says that this same giant, whose sense he cunningly robbed, had previously given him a gambanteinn. This word means a weapon made by Völund. His sword of revenge and victory is called gambanteinn in Skírnismál. But gambanteinn is, at the same time, a synonym of mistilteinn, hence, in an Icelandic saga from the Christian time, Völund's sword of victory also reappears by the name mistilteinn (see No. 60). Thus the giant Hlebard gave Loki a weapon, which, according to its designation, is either Völund's sword of victory or the mistletoe. It cannot be the sword of victory. We know the hands to which this sword has gone and is to go: Völund's, Mimir-Nidad's, the night-dis Sinmara's, Svipdag's, Frey's, Aurboda's and Eggther's, and finally Fjalar's and Surt's. The weapon which Thjazi's namesake Hhebard gives Loki must, accordingly, have been the mistletoe. In this connection we must bear in mind what is said of the mistletoe. Unfortunately, the few words of Völuspá are the only entirely reliable record we have on this subject; but certain features of Gylfaginning's account (Chapter 49) may be mythologically correct. "Slender and fair" - not dangerous and fair to behold - grew, according to Völuspá, the mistletoe, "higher than the fields" (as a parasite on the trees); but from the shrub which seemed innocent became "a dangerous arrow of pain," which Höður hurled. According to a poetic fragment united with Vegtamskviða ("Baldur's draumar"), and according to Gylfaginning, the gods had previously exacted an oath from all things not to harm Baldur; but, according to Gylfaginning, they had omitted to exact an oath from one thing, namely, the mistletoe. By cunning Loki found this out. He went and pulled up the mistletoe, which he was afterwards able to put into Hödur's hand, while, according to Gylfaginning, the gods were amusing themselves by seeing how every weapon aimed at Baldur hit him without harming him. But that Loki should hand Hödur this shrub in the form in which it had grown on the tree, and that Hödur should use it in this form to shoot Baldur, is as improbable as that Hödur was blind. [*]

[* When I come to consider the Baldur-myth in the second part of this work, I shall point out the source from which the author of Gylfaginning, misunderstandingly, has drawn the conclusion that the man of exploits, the warrior, the archer, and the hunter Hödur was blind. The misunderstanding gave welcome support to the symbolic interpretation, which, in the blind Hödur, found among other things a symbol of night (but night has "many eyes"). ]

We must take Völuspá's words to mean that the shrub became an arrow, and we must conceive that this arrow looked like every other arrow, and for this very reason did not awaken suspicion. Otherwise the suspicion would at once have been awakened, for they who had exacted the oath of things, and Frigg who had sent the messengers to exact the oaths, knew that the mistletoe was the only thing in the whole world that had not been sworn. The heathen songs nowhere betray such inconsistencies and such thoughtlessness as abound in the accounts of the Younger Edda. The former are always well conceived, at times incisive, and they always reveal a keen sense of everything that may give even to the miraculous the appearance of reality and logic. The mistletoe was made into an arrow by some one who knew how to turn it into a "dangerous arrow of pain" in an infallible manner. The unhappy shot depended on the magic qualities that were given to the mistletoe by the hands that changed it into an arrow. The event becomes comprehensible, and the statements found in the various sources dovetail together and bear the test of sound criticism, if Loki, availing himself of the only thing which had not been bound by oath not to harm Baldur, goes with this shrub, which of itself was innocent and hardly fit for an arrow, to the artist who hated the gods, to the artist who had smithied the sword of revenge, and if the latter, with his magic skill as a smith, makes out of the mistilteinn a new gambanteinn dangerous to the gods, and gives the weapon to Loki in order that he might accomplish his evil purpose therewith. As Hlebard is a Thjazi-synonym, as this Thjazi-synonym is connected with the weapon-name gambanteinn, which indicates a Thjazi-work, and as Loki has treated Thjazi as he says he has treated Hlebard - by a cunning act he robbed him of his senses - then all accessible facts go to establish the theory that by Hlebard is meant the celebrated ancient artist deceived by Loki. And as Hlebard has given him a weapon which is designated by the name of the sword of revenge, but which is not the sword of revenge, while the latter, on the other hand and for corresponding reasons, also gets the name mistilteinn, then all the facts go to show that the weapon which Hlebard gave to Loki was the mistletoe fraught with woe and changed to an arrow. If Gylfaginning's unreliable account, based on fragmentary and partly misunderstood mythic records presented in a disjointed manner, had not been found, and if we had been referred exclusively to the few but reliable statements which are to be found in regard to the matter in the poetic songs, then a correct picture of this episode, though not so complete as to details, would have been the result of a compilation of the statements extant. The result would then have been: (1) Baldur was slain by an arrow shot by Hödur (Völuspá, Vegtamskviða); (2) Hödur was not the real slayer, but Loki (Lokasenna 28); (3) the material of which the arrow was made was a tender or slender (mjór) mistletoe (Völuspá); (4) previously all things had sworn not to harm Baldur ("Baldur's draumar"), but the mistletoe must, for some reason or other, have been overlooked by the messengers sent out to exact the oaths, since Baldur was mortally wounded by it; (5) since it was Loki who arranged (réð) matters so that this happened, it must have been he who had charge of the mistletoe for the carrying out of his evil purpose; (6) the mistletoe fell into the hands of a giant-smith hostile to the gods, and mentioned under circumstances that refer to Thjazi (Hárbarðsljóð); (7) by his skill as a smith he gave such qualities to the mistletoe as to change it into "a dangerous arrow of pain," and then gave the arrow to Loki (Hárbarðsljóð); (8) from Loki's hands it passed into Hödur's, and was shot by the latter (Lokasenna, Völuspá).

It is dangerous to employ nature-symbolism as a means of mythological investigation. It is unserviceable for that purpose, so long as it cannot be subjected to the rules of severe methodics. On the other hand, it is admissible and justifiable to consider from a natural symbolic standpoint the results gained in a mythological investigation by the methodological system. If, as already indicated, Hlebard is identical with Thjazi-Völund, then he who was the cause of the fimbul-winter and sent the powers of frost out upon the earth, also had his hand in the death of the sun-god Baldur and in his descent to the lower world. There is logic in this. And there is logic in the very fact that the weapon with which the sun-god is slain is made from the mistletoe, which blossoms and produces fruit in the winter, and is a plant which rather shuns than seeks the light of the sun. When we remember how the popular traditions have explained the appearance and qualities of various animals and plants by connecting them with the figures of mythology or of legendary lore, then I suppose it is possible that the popular fancy saw in the mistletoe's dread of light the effect of grief and shame at having been an instrument in evil hands for evil purposes. Various things indicate that the mistletoe originally was a sacred plant, not only among the Celts, but also among the Teutons. The Hinduic Aryans also knew sacred parasitical plants.

The word gamban which forms a part of gambanteinn means "compensation," "ransom," when used as a noun, and otherwise "retaliating". In the Anglo-Saxon poetry occurs (see Grein's Dictionary) the phrase gamban gyldan, "to compensate," "to pay dues". In the Norse sources gamban occurs only in the compounds gambanteinn (Skírnismál 32; Hárbarðsljóð 20), gambanreiði (Skírnismál 33), and gambansumbl (Lokasenna 8). In the song of Skirnir, the latter threatens Gerd, who refused Frey's offer of marriage, that she shall be struck by gambanreiði goða, the avenging wrath of the gods. In Lokasenna, Loki comes unbidden into the banquet of the gods in Ægir's hall to mix bitterness with their gladness, and he demands either a place at the banquet table or to be turned out of doors. Bragi answers that the gods never will grant him a seat at a banquet, "since they well know for whom among beings they are to prepare gambansumbl," a banquet of revenge or a drink of revenge. This he manifestly mentions as a threat, referring to the fate which soon afterwards happens to Loki, when he is captured and bound, and when a venom-spitting serpent is fastened above his mouth. For the common assumption that gamban means something "grand," "magnificent," "divine," there is not a single shadow of reason. Gambanteinn is accordingly "the twig of revenge," and thus we have the mythological reason why Thjazi-Völund's sword of revenge and the mistletoe arrow were so called. With them he desires to avenge the insult to which he refers in Völundarkviða 28: Nú hefi eg hefnt harma minna allra nema einna íviðgjarnra.