Treasury of Norse Mythology: Stories of Intrigue, Trickery, Love, and Revenge

Text Copyright © 2015 Donna Jo Napoli

Illustrations Copyright © 2015 Christina Balit

Compilation Copyright © 2015 National Geographic Society

All rights reserved. Reproduction of the whole or any part of the contents without written permission from the publisher is prohibited.

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ILLUSTRATIONS CREDITS

All illustrations: Christina Balit.

Photos: 1.2 (INSET), Vito Palmisano/Getty Images; 2.2 (INSET), filmfoto/Shutterstock; 3.2 (INSET), Werner Forman Archive/Statens Historiska Museum, Stockholm/Heritage-Images/Art Resource, NY; 4.3 (INSET), Ko Backpacko/Shutterstock; 5.3 (INSET), Oldmantravels/Flickr; 6.2 (INSET), Werner Forman Archive/Statens Historiska Museum, Stockholm/Heritage-Images/Art Resource, NY; 7.2 (INSET), Detail of figures illustrating a saga, from the Isle of Gotland (stone) by Viking (9th century), Historiska Museet, Stockholm, Sweden/Bridgeman Images; 8.2 (INSET), David Robertson/Alamy; 8.2 (INSET BACK), Chanwut Jukrachai/Shutterstock; 9.2 (INSET), The Market of Tlatelolco, detail from the Great City of Tenochtitlan, from the cycle “Pre-Hispanic and Colonial Mexico,” 1945 (mural) (see also 97395), Rivera, Diego (1886–1957)/Palacio Nacional, Mexico City, Mexico/Bridgeman Images; 10.2 (INSET), Shutterstock; 11.2 (INSET), © Juan Carlos Munoz/Robert Harding World Imagery; 12.2 (INSET), Fedorov Oleksiy/Shutterstock; 13.2 (INSET), Soldiers for the Norwegian King Sverre, Torstein Skevla and Skjervald Skrukka carrying the king’s son Hakon Hakonsson, 1869 (oil on canvas)/Bridgeman Images; 14.2 (INSET), simonekesh/Shutterstock; 15.2 (INSET), Henrik Larsson/Shutterstock; 16.2 (INSET), Jason Steel/Shutterstock; 17.2 (INSET), Odin, with his two crows, Hugin (thought) and Munin (memory) (pen & ink on paper), Icelandic School (18th century)/Royal Library, Copenhagen, Denmark/Bridgeman Images; 18.2 (INSET), NMPFT/Science Museum/SSPL/Getty Images; bm1.1, Heimdall Blowing His Horn Before Ragnarok, from “Melsted’s Edda” (pen & ink and w/c on paper), Icelandic School (18th century)/Arni Magnusson Institute, Reykjavik, Iceland/Bridgeman Images; bm1.2, Valhalla and the Midgard Serpent, 1680, Icelandic School (17th century)/Arni Magnusson Institute, Reykjavik, Iceland/Bridgeman Images

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Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

Napoli, Donna Jo, 1948- author.

Treasury of Norse mythology : stories of intrigue, trickery, love, and revenge

/ by Donna Jo Napoli; illustrated by Christina Balit.

pages cm

Audience: Ages 8-12

Includes bibliographical references and index.

eBook ISBN: 978-1-4263-2357-7

ISBN 978-1-4263-2098-9 (hardcover : alk. paper) – ISBN 978-1-4263-2099-6 (library binding : alk. paper)

1. Mythology, Norse–Juvenile literature. 2. Gods, Norse–Juvenile literature. 3. Tales–Scandinavia. I. Balit, Christina, illustrator. II. Title.

BL860.N25 2015

398.209368–dc23

15/RRDS/1

v3.1

Cover: Four inhabitants of Asgard: Odin on his throne, two wolves at his feet; stunning Freyja in her falcon-feather coat; Thor with his hammer high, ready to bash enemies; and Loki lurking, envious and spiteful

Version: 2017-07-07

For Barry, il mio vichingo. —DJN

For my very dear friend Joe Boyle …

a Norse traveler if ever there was one. —CB

Enormous gratitude for guidance throughout this project goes to Professor Scott Mellor of the Department of Scandinavian Studies at the University of Wisconsin at Madison. The author and illustrator also thank the National Geographic team who worked on this project for their resourcefulness, energy, and wisdom: Amy Briggs, Priyanka Lamichhane, Hillary Leo, and David Seager.

CONTENTS

Cover

Title Page

Copyright

Dedication

Introduction

Note on Norse Names

CREATION

THE COSMOS

THE GODS CLASH

ODIN’S QUEST

LOKI’S MONSTROUS CHILDREN

WAGERS & TREASURES

SHAPE-SHIFTERS

HEIMDALL’S MANY CHILDREN

FREYJA’S SHAME

THOR’S HAMMER

THOR THE GREEDY

IDUNN’S APPLES

SKADI & NJORD

FREY & GERD

DEATH BY BLUNDER

THE GODS TAKE VENGEANCE

KVASIR’S ENDURING POETRY

DESTRUCTION

AFTERWORD

Map of the Ancient Norse World

Time Line of Norse History

Cast of Characters

Bibliography

Index

About the Authors

INTRODUCTION

During the Middle Ages Latin became the language of writing and of much religious storytelling in many lands of Europe. So, for example, in Germany and France people would speak German or French to friends and business associates, but when they wrote books or told Christian stories, they used Latin. The countries in what is today Scandinavia spoke Old Norse, common to all three countries, Norway, Denmark, and Sweden. However, even after Latin writing came to Iceland—which was settled by Norse people—they wrote their own stories in Old Norse, not Latin. In Iceland the tradition of skaldic poetry and song was fundamental to daily culture. People gathered in large halls at any excuse to listen to stories, often because a visiting poet had come to the village. Stories could warm a long cold night, after all. This might well be the reason why some Norse people tenaciously maintained the worldview you will encounter in the stories here until the middle of the 12th century, in opposition to the rising strength of Christianity in neighboring countries.

The Norse stories in many ways reflect the geophysical world the people of Norway and Iceland inhabited. Norway is covered with mountains, the tallest of which are essentially barren—and four are volcanic. Iceland is covered with volcanoes, many of which are active. And both countries have snow and ice in many areas in winter and in some areas even year-round, and each has a long coast lapped by an icy ocean. In such an environment the land and sea themselves must have seemed alive. At any moment the earth might roar, spit fire, and swallow you, or it might shake and an avalanche of snow could smother your homestead. Even a piece of rock, if smacked against a glassy stone, could produce hot sparks that set afire whatever dry twigs were at hand. It’s no wonder then that not just living beings had names, but all sorts of objects had names, too. Bridges and halls, trees and swords, inanimate objects of so many kinds had personalities and powers, and it was important to show respect through calling them by name—and never, never to do so frivolously.

The world must have seemed outrageously dangerous; death waited behind any door, and, oh, how savage that death might be. Nevertheless, these people got in boats and braved seas turbulent with storms as they explored and exploited other worlds. The Norse both paid homage to and defied the unknown. The spirit of courage colors their mythology, even as trickery leads to tragedy. And perhaps facing adversity all the time is at least partly the reason why they had a democratic society in which all free men (not women, and not slaves) had a vote—just as all gods had a vote in the assemblies that the major god, Odin, led. Lives depended on decisions made in communal meetings, so it was best to share both the privilege and the responsibility.

NOTE ON NORSE NAMES

Old Norse used letters that don’t appear in the modern alphabet for English, such as Þ, which indicates the first sound in think; ð, which indicates the first sound in the; and æ, which indicates the first sound in act. They also added marks above or below vowels to indicate a variety of sounds. While these Old Norse alphabetic symbols are beautiful, I feared that using them here would inhibit you from reading passages aloud. I wouldn’t risk robbing you of that joy. So, I have anglicized all proper names here. Further, Norse names often end in r because a final r can be a nominative case marker, showing that the word is the subject of its sentence. Since English does not use case markings on names, for the sake of consistency, I’ve chosen to leave out nominative case-marking final r’s. Thus, “Óðinn, the Alfaðir of the Æsir,” is known here as “Odin, the Allfather of the Aesir.” “Þorr, who swings his hammer, Mjölnir,” is here “Thor, who swings his hammer, Mjolnir.” And so on.

If you would like to know more about Old Norse, please consult a site for the International Phonetic Alphabet (IPA), such as www.phonetics.ucla.edu/course/chapter1/chapter1.html or en.wikipedia.org/wiki/International_Phonetic_Alphabet. Then use the IPA to help you understand a site on Old Norse, such as www.omniglot.com/writing/oldnorse.htm. Please watch the wonderful video there.

The frost giant Ymir emerged from the melting rivers of Ginnungagap. A daughter sprang from his sweaty armpit; a son, from his feet. The sweet-tempered cow Audhumla licked at the ice until she uncovered the head of the first god, Buri.

CREATION

The north was frozen—snow and ice, nothing more. It was called Niflheim. It was the embodiment of bleakness.

The south was aflame–ready to consume whatever might come. It was called Muspell. It was the embodiment of insanity.

Between them lay a vast emptiness. It was called Ginnungagap. It waited.

In the midst of the northern realm, water bubbled up—in the spring known as Hvergelmir. From it ran 11 rivers, straight down into the void, filling the northern part of Ginnungagap. The cold rivers slowed and thickened, like icy syrup, but a venomous kind of syrup. One that matched the desolate cries of the haunted winds.

The southern part of Ginnungagap was hot, though. Muspell kept it molten, like lava.

So when the gusts from the northern part met the heaving heat from the southern part, the middle of Ginnungagap grew almost balmy. The icy rivers thawed just enough to drip over that wide middle part.

That was enough: The frost giant Ymir stepped out of those drops. From the sweat of his left armpit grew a frost giant son and daughter. Ymir’s feet rubbed together, and another frost giant was born. Ymir’s every move, every thought, resulted in more frost giants. And all of them were spitting mean. What else could they be, given the bitter source of the very liquid in their veins?

Heavenly Movements

The moon and sun

People used to think the sun and moon crossed the sky. But in 1543 astronomer Nicolaus Copernicus argued that the Earth circles the sun, based on his observations of constellations and a lunar eclipse. Later astronomers Tycho Brahe and Johannes Kepler made astronomical measurements, which led to Kepler’s laws of planetary motion around the sun. In 1609 astronomer Galileo Galilei invented the telescope and added support to Copernicus’s model based on observations of the planet Venus.

The ice of Ginnungagap kept melting as the air grew milder. It formed a cow, a huge good-natured beast, from whose udders spurted four milk rivers. Her name was Audhumla. She stood in the middle of the glistening blocks of salty ice, and like any good cow, she immediately started licking. She licked all day long, until, under her great rasping tongue, hair appeared out of the ice. She licked all the next day, until a whole head appeared. By the evening of the third day, an entire being stood there. He was Buri, the first god.

Buri soon had a son named Bor, and Bor married the daughter of a frost giant and fathered three sons, the grandchildren of Buri: Odin and Vili and Ve.

Now the trouble began: The sons of Bor and the gang of frost giants hated each other. Inevitably, perhaps, for the world was still such an inhospitable place, ice on one side, fire on the other, that hate found a natural home there. Bor’s sons killed Ymir.

The blood of that ancient frost giant surged out over Ginnungagap and drowned all the other frost giants—all but two: Bergelmir and his wife. They got in their boat and let the gory current carry them where it would.

But now the sons of Bor found themselves with this enormous corpse, and they recognized the possibilities: Life could come from death. That could be the circle of things. So they used every part of the slain Ymir to create many worlds. His blood made seas and lakes. His flesh made earth. His bones formed mountains. His teeth became rocks and pebbles.

Ymir’s hollowed-out skull made the sky, and the three sons of Bor took the maggots crawling in Ymir’s rotted carcass and created small creatures called dwarfs. They set a dwarf under each of the four corners of this skull-sky to hold it up, arching over the earth. One dwarf was called Nordri—North; one, Austri—East; one, Sudri—South; one, Vestri—West. The other dwarfs ran off to live in the rocky caves. They became skilled craftsmen. It was they who wrought the decorative treasures of the gods.

The three sons of Bor killed the frost giant Ymir and used his body parts to create worlds and the objects within those worlds. From his skull they made the sky.

But there was still more of Ymir’s body to exploit. The sons of Bor threw his brains up into the sky to form clouds. They stole embers from Muspell and created the sun and moon, and from the sparks they made all the many stars.

With Ymir’s eyebrows they made a wall to keep out the giants. The land outside that wall was called Jotunheim, and the only two giants left alive settled there. The land inside that wall was called Midgard.

So now the land of Midgard was protected from giants, from ice, from fire, and it had sweet air above. It grew green with leeks and fragrant clover. Trees shot up, spruce and elm and ash. The gods, who had grown in number, wandered over this land. From two pieces of driftwood on the seashore, three gods created a man and a woman, the first humans. Odin put his mouth to theirs and gave them Ond—Breath—so they could live and love. Hoenir gave them Od—Mind—so they could understand and laugh. Lodur gave them La—Sense—so they could appreciate beauty. And that lone man, Ask, and that lone woman, Embla, set about having children to populate the land of Midgard.

The giantess Night, of the blackest hair, and her son Day, of the blondest hair, rode chariots across the sky. Later their chariots would be guided by humans, and the savage wolf Skoll with his brother wolf would chase them.

Meanwhile, the giants were having children, too. One giant woman had raven black hair and skin the hue of tree bark. To touch her was to shiver. Her name was Night. She had a son with hair that looked like the tips of the flames in Muspell and skin the color of Audhumla’s milk. To touch him was to smile. His name was Day. Their contrast fascinated Odin—he couldn’t resist; he set Night and her son Day in two chariots that race across the sky, the one after the other. Night’s chariot horse is Hrimfaxi, with frost clumped in his mane. Day’s chariot horse is Skinfaxi, with sparkles flying from his mane.

A human living in Midgard had children that were stunningly beautiful, as beautiful as anything the gods had created. He called his daughter Sun and his son Moon. Such audacity was a grave mistake. In fury, the sons of Bor snatched them and made Sun guide the chariot of Day and Moon guide the chariot of Night. The chariots are always in a hurry because each is chased by a savage wolf, sons of a giantess witch who lives in Ironwood Forest to the east of Midgard. The wolf Hati Hrodvitnisson goes after Moon—he will run Moon down in the end, at the cosmic battle of Ragnarok. The wolf Skoll snaps and growls behind Sun. In the end, he will catch her, too.

That’s how it all began. That’s how it all will end.

One-eyed Odin presides over Asgard, the world of the Aesir gods, as a guardian father—the Allfather. A flaming bridge, Bifrost, leads from Midgard, the world of the humans, up past the wall that surrounds Asgard.

THE COSMOS

The cosmos consisted of separate worlds arranged on three levels. In the middle level many creatures made a home. Humans had Midgard. Frost giants had Jotunheim.

The gods needed a home, too. Now up on the top level of the cosmos there was only one world at this point: Alfheim. That’s where the light elves lived, happy souls. So the sons of Bor chose to build a world for the gods up there, beside Alfheim. They named the world of the gods Asgard. It had spreading green meadows and splendid meeting halls.

By now the deities had multiplied and they had welcomed into their group various other creatures, friendly giants and elves. Odin was looked at as the father god; they called him Allfather. And the deities of this huge family called themselves the Aesir. They built a flaming rainbow bridge called Bifrost that spanned the distance from Midgard up to Asgard. Between Bifrost’s flames and the high rock wall that surrounded the world, others were blocked from invading Asgard. But Bifrost’s flames welcomed the Aesir; they simply shimmered in three colors under the gods’ galloping horses as they passed across into their new dwelling.

The Aesir built a hall from a single slab of gold, called Gladsheim, and it served as their court. They built a hall specifically for the goddesses, called Vingolf. They built a home with a forge and made hammers, tongs, anvils, all manner of tools, and furnished it well with goods of stone and wood and metal. The dishes they ate from were gold.

Odin built his own hall, Valaskjalf, and thatched it with sheer silver. He sat there on a high seat called Hlidskjalf, from which he could look out over all the worlds in the cosmos.

Those worlds now included one more: Vanaheim. The gods had split into two groups, the Aesir, who inhabited Asgard, and the Vanir, who lived in Vanaheim. The Aesir saw themselves as the true rulers of the cosmos. Given that attitude, it was no surprise that the feelings between the Aesir and the Vanir were less than friendly. So Odin watched Vanaheim with special care.

Odin ruled from his high seat, a helmet on his head and a raven on each shoulder. At his feet crouched two wolves, Geri and Freki, ravenous beasts who ate whatever food Odin dropped for them, which was abundant, since Odin himself lived only on wine. But these two wolves were also rumored to feed on nasty things—maybe even the corpses of men.