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Prose Edda - Anderson Trans.


Notes


Sensual sin waxes huge.

                There are sword-ages, ax-ages---
                Shields are cleft in twain,---
                Storm-ages, murder-ages,
                Till the world falls dead,
                And men no longer spare
                Or pity one another.

        Upon the whole we may say that a sun-myth first represents the death of the day at sunset, when the sky is radiant as if dyed in blood. In the flushing morn light wins its victory again. Then this same myth becomes transferred to the death and birth of summer. Once more it is lifted into a higher sphere, while still holding on to its physical interpretation, and is applied to the world year. Finally, it is clothed with ethical attributes, becomes thoroughly anthropomorphized, and typifies the good and the evil, the virtues and vices (light and darkness), int he character and life of gods and of men. Thus we get four stages in the development of the myth.

CHAPTER 15

        Ragnarok. The word is found written in two ways, Ragnarök and ragnarökr. Ragna is genitive plural, from the word regin (god), and means of the gods. Rök means reason, ground, origin, a wonder, sign, marvel. It is allied to the O.H.G. rahha = sentence, judgment. Ragnarök would then mean the history of the gods, and applied to the dissolution of the world, might be translated the last judgment, doomsday, weird of gods and the world. Rökr means twilight, and Ragnarokr, as the Younger Edda has it, thus means the twilight of the gods, and the latter is adopted by nearly all modern writers, although Gudbr. Vigfusson declares that Ragnarok (doomsday) is no doubt the correct form. And this is also to be said in favor of doomsday, that Ragnarok does not involve only the twilight, but the whole night of the gods and the world.

THE NIFLUNGS AND GJUKUNGS

        This chapter of Skaldkaparmal contains much valuable material for a correct understanding of the Nibelungen-Lied, especially as to the origin of the Niblung hoard, and the true character of Brynhild. The material given here, and in the Icelandic Volsunga Saga, has been used by Wm. Morris in his Sigurd the Volsung and the Fall of the Niblungs. In the Nibelungen-Lied, as transposed by Auber Forestier, in Echoes from Mist-Land, we have a perfect gem of literature from the middle high German period, but its author had lost sight of the divine and mythical origin of the material that he wove into his poem. It is only by combining the German Nibelungen-Lied with the mythical materials found in Norseland that our national Teutonic epic can be restored to us. Wagner has done this for us in his famous drama; Jordan has done it in his Sigfrid's saga; Morris has done it in the work mentioned above; but will not Auber Forestier gather up all the scattered fragments relating to Sigurd and Brynhild, and weave them together into a prose narrative, that shall delight the young and old of this great land?
        We are glad to welcome at this time a new book in the field of Niblung literature. We refer to Geibel's Brunhild, translated, with introduction and notes, by Prof. G. Theo. Dippold, and recently published in Boston.

MENJA AND FENJA

        This is usually called the peace of Frode, which corresponds to the golden age in the life of the asas. Avarice is the root of crime, and all other evils. Avarice is at the bottom of all the endless woes of the Niblung story. The myth explaining why the sea is salt is told in a variety of forms in different countries. In Germany there are several folk-lore stories and traditions in regard to it. In Norway, where folk-lore tales are so abundant, we find the myth about Menja and Fenja recurring in the following form:

WHY THE SEA IS SALT

        Long, long ago there were two brothers, the one was rich and the other was poor. On Christmas eve the poor one had not a morsel of bread or meat in his house, and so he went to his brother and asked for mercy's sake to give him something for Christmas. It was not the first time the brother had had to give him, and he was not very much pleasant to see him this time either.
        "If you will do what I ask of you, I will give you a whole ham of pork," said he.
        The poor man promised immediately, and was very thankful besides.
        "There you have it, now go to hell," said the rich one, and threw the ham at him.
        "What I have promised, I suppose, I must keep," said the other. He took the ham and started. He walked and walked the whole day, and at twilight he came to a place where everything looked so bright and splendid.
        "This must be the place," thought the man with the ham.
        Out in the wood-shed stood an old man with a long white beard, cutting wood for Christmas.
        "Good evening," said the man with the ham.
        "Good evening, sir. Where are you going so late?" said the man.
        "I am on my way to hell, if I am on the right road," said the poor man.
        "Yes, you have taken the right road; it is here," said the old man. "Now when you get in, they will all want to buy your ham, for pork is rare food in hell; but you must not sell it, unless you get the hand-mill that stands back of the door for it. When you come out again I will show you how to regulate it. You will find it useful in more than one respect."
        The man with the ham thanked the old man for this valuable information, and rapped at the devil's door.
        When he came in it happened as the old man had said. All the devils, both the large ones and the small ones, crowded around him like ants around a worm, and the one bid higher than the other for the ham.
        "It is true my wife and I were to have it for our Christmas dinner, but, seeing that you are so eager for it, I suppose I will have to let you have it," said the man. "But if I am to sell it, I want that hand-mill that stands behind the door there for it."
        The devil did not like to spare it, and kept dickering and bantering with the man, but he insisted, and so the devil had to give him the hand-mill. When the man came out in the yard he asked the old woodchopper how he shoud regulate the mill; and when he had learned how to do it, he said "thank you," and made for home as fast as he could. But still he did not reach home before twelve o'clock in the night Christmas eve.
        "Why, where in the world have you been?" said the woman. "Here I have been sitting hour after hour waiting and waiting, and I haven't as much as two sticks to put on the fire so as to cook the Christmas porridge."
        "Oh, I could not come any sooner. I had several errands to do, and I had a long way to go too. But now I will show you," said the man. He set the mill on the table, and had it first grind light, then a table-cloth, then food and ale and all sorts of good things for Christmas, and as he commanded the mill ground. The woman expressed her great astonishment again and again, and wanted to know where her husband had gotten the mill, but this he would not tell.
        "It makes no difference where I have gotten it; you see the mill is a good one, and that the water does not freeze," said the man.
        Then he ground food and drink, and all good things, for the whole Christmas week, and on the third day he invited his friends: he was going to have a party. When the rich brother saw all the nice and good things at the party, he became very wroth, for he could not bear to see his brother have anything.
        "Christmas eve he was so needy that he came to me and asked me for mercy's sake to give him a little food, and now he gives a feast as though he were both count and king," said he to the others.
        "But where in hell have you gotten all your riches from?" said he to his brother.
        "Behind the door," answered he who owned the mill. He did not care to give any definite account, but later in the evening, when he began to get a little tipsy, he could not help himself and brought out the mill.
        "There you see the one that has given me all the riches." said he, and then he let the mill grind both one thing and another. When the brother saw this he was bound to have the mill, and after a long bantering about it, he finally was to have it; but he was to pay three hundred dollars for it, and his brother was to keep it until harvest.
        "When I keep it until then, I shall have ground food enough to last many years," thought he.
        Of course the mill got no chance to grow rusty during the next six months, and when harvest-time came, the rich brother got it; but the other man had taken good care not to show him how to regulate it. It was in the evening that the rich man brought the mill home, and in the morning he bade his wife go and spread the hay after the mowers, ---he would get dinner ready, he said. Toward dinner he put the mill on the table.
        "Grind fish and gruel: Grind both well and fast!" said the man, and the mill began to grind fish and gruel. It first filled all the dishes and tubs full, and after that it covered the whole floor with fish and gruel. The man kept puttering and tinkering, and tried to get the mill to stop; but no matter how he turned it and fingered at it, the mill kept on, and before long the gruel got so deep in the room that the man was on the point of drowning. Then he opened the door to the sitting room, but before long that room was filled too, and the man had all he could do to get hold of the door-latch down in this flood of gruel. When he got the door open he did not remain long in the room. He ran out as fast as he could, and there was a perfect flood of fish gruel behind, deluging the yard and his fields.
        The wife, who was in the meadow making hay, began to think that it took a long time to get dinner ready.
        "Even if husband does not call us, we will have to go anyway. I suppose he does not know much about making gruel; I will have to go and help him," said the woman to the mowers.
        They went homeward, but on coming up the hill they met the flood of fish and gruel and bread, the one mixed up with the other, and the man came running ahead of the flood.
        "Would that each one of you had an hundred stomachs, but have a care that you do not drown in the gruel flood," cried the husband. He ran by them as though the devil had been after him, and hastened down to his brother. He begged him in the name of everything sacred to come and take the mill away immediately.
        "If it grinds another hour the whole settlement will perish in fish and gruel," said he.
        But the brother would not take it unless he got three hundred dollars, and this money had to be paid to him.
        Now the poor brother had both money and the mill, and so it did not take long before he got himself a farm, and a much nicer one than his brother's. With his mill he ground out so much gold that he covered his house all over with sheets of gold. The house stood down by the sea-shore, and it glistened far out upon the sea. All who sailed past had to go ashore and visit the rich man in the golden house, and all wanted to see the wonderful mill, for its fame spread far and wide, and there was none who had not heard speak of it.
        After a long time there came a sea-captain who wished to see the mill. He asked whether it could grind salt.
        "Yes, it can grind salt," said he who owned the mill; and when the captain heard this, he was bound to have it, let it cost what it will. For if he had that, thought he, he would not have to sail far off over dangerous waters after cargoes of salt. At first the man did not wish to sell it, but the captain teased and begged and finally the man sold it, and got many thousands dollars for it. When the captian had gotten the mill on his back, he did not stay there long, for he was afraid the man might reconsider the bargain and back out again. He had no time to ask how to regulate it; he went to his ship as fast as he could, and when he had gotten some distance out upon the sea, he got his mill out.
        "Grind salt both fast and well," said the captian. The mill began to grind salt, and that with all its might. When the captain had gotten the ship full he wanted to stop the mill; but no matter how he worked, and no matter how he handled it, the mill kept grinding as fast as ever, and the heap of salt kept growing larger and larger, and at last the ship sank. The mill stands on the bottom of the sea grinding this very day, and so it comes that the sea is salt.



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