Welcome to this issue #11, falling between Holy-Moon and Winter-Moon solar months. We have another episode of Ingrid Fischer’s profound and powerful Germanic Soul-Lore, on the Fylgia.

FYLGIA

The fylgja (‘guidance’ or ‘following spirit’, a noun related to the verb fylgja which means ‘to accompany’, ‘to help’), or fetch, is that part of the body/soul complex that receives the energies rising from Urdhr (past deeds) and Verdhandi (current deeds) and transforms them into the individual’s drives and powers which influence his life.

The manns-fylgja (ON, the fetch of a man) is always portrayed as being of the opposite sex, which is reminiscent of Jung’s animus/anima. It works on a mostly semi-conscious, psychosomatic level but individuals who have taken up communication with their unconscious will come to know it and integrate it into their conscious psyche. This is part of what I mean with ‘taking one’s fate into one’s own hands’. The fylgja (at least the manns- and the ættar-fylgja) is passed on after the death of an individual mostly within one family, and we can see why people in old times put great emphasis on their ancestors. This is also partly the reason why it was so important to lead an honourable life and be remembered by one’s deeds.

However, once the individual has gained an insight into the past and his ættar-fylgja (ON, the family guardian spirit), it becomes more evident that the ‘being’ which seems to be ‘other’ than he, is in truth the sum total of all that he is, and all that he has done with the ‘gift’ of the Nornir when he was born.

Something more has to be said about manns- and ættar-fylgja. The first is a man’s individual fylgja, which everyone can have; some men have a very weak and underdeveloped one but powerful men have a strong fylgja. The second is the fylgja of the family or the clan and attaches itself always to the strongest member, who will also have a very strong hamingja. Our ancestors also believed that the fylgja could take on animal form (dyr-fylgja), and it depended on the man’s personality what animal this would be.

It seems that the fylgja is the most personal and individual part of the soul and puts a lot of emphasis on the personality of man; it is the most anthropomorphised of the various soul concepts and appears to have developed a will of its own.

Practical work:

If you have done the practical work over the last four weeks you should be ready to find your animal fetch or dyr-fylgja.

In the introduction to this course Ian mentioned Ristandi’s excellent work on how to get to know your dyr-fylgja, and I recommend that you try this method. This is a simple method from folk-tradition for finding out your animal fetch.

A more sophisticated, in-depth and time-consuming method is the Útiseta working or Rite of Sitting Out which is described in detail by Edred Thorsson¹.

Preparation, meditation and the lone work in a secluded place outside somewhere allow for a powerful experience.

1 Edred Thorsson, The Nine Doors of Midgard, Third Revised and Expanded Edition, Texas, 2003.

Welcome to Issue 10, Holy-Moon. This issue goes out three days early, because I will be travelling over the New Moon.

This month we have another Rune-Poem, a document that demonstrates an initiate’s understanding of the runes. The title of Nathalie’s poem should make sense to all those who have contemplated the Allfather’s self-to-Self sacrifice on Yggdrasil, and the words of Edred Thorsson on his own contact with Odin.

Runa murmurs to me…

by Nathalie F.

 

FEHU is the flame of the river that spreads all over;

The essential spark to any start.

But from the bond of the snake dissensions arise.

 

URUZ is a horned and courageous animal;

His ferocity defies the novice.

But the nectar fertilises the valleys and fills the horns.

 

THURISAZ is the rage of giants;

The sleep thorn that pricks the valkyrie.

But the hammer swirls and crashes on skulls.

 

ANSUZ is the Lord of the Aesir;

His vital breath bestowed life.

But the guardian of the fountain does not spare his pledge.

 

RAIDHO is the shaman who rides;

The wheel turns and the wagon goes forth.

But he who wants to travel far will spare his mount.

 

KENAZ is the blacksmith’s art and the sun of the house;

The torch releases the darkness.

But the consuming fire defies the piercing stare.

 

GEBO is a gift for a gift;

A sacrifice to the peak of the world.

But better is to refuse what cannot be honoured.

 

WUNJO is the bliss of the carefree man;

Birds of a feather flock together.

But happiness has true worth only when shared.

 

 

HAGALAZ is the hail that plummets and destroys everything;

The shower strikes and releases the sacred seed.

But the ever green plain will turn green again.

 

NAUDHIZ oppresses chests and tightens hearts;

The vital fire flickers and resists distress.

But the hero penetrates his web and shapes it.

 

ISA is the icy beauty of the ford and the sleep of the furrow;

The bark of the rivers leads to the deceased.

But the destitute is chilled to the bone near the tree of crows.

 

JERA is an abundant harvest;

One reaps what one sows.

But everything dies and everything is reborn eternally.

 

EIHWAZ is the sacred tree that underpins the world;

The traveller breathes its vapours.

But its berries taste like the wheat of wolves.

 

PERTHRO tests luck both in combat and games;

The bold rattles the cup of fate.

But Urðr has pronounced her judgement.

 

ELHAZ raises his antlers to the highest in the helm of air;

The initiate soars on the wavering path.

But stung are those who draw too close.

 

SOWILO is the candle of the world that shows the way;

She brings hope on the hawk of the shore.

But if the Cold collapses everything will go up in smoke.

 

 

TIWAZ is the shining lantern on the pathways of the moon;

Raising towards the sky it upholds order and justice.

But the one-armed no longer wields the bough of wounds.

 

BERKANO is the glade that welcomes and conceals;

The ribbons twirl around the immaculate pole.

But barren the sanctuary becomes a cemetery.

 

EHWAZ is the close bond between a horseman and his steed;

Eager for open spaces together they hurry and glide across the worlds.

But his neighing rings like a confidence.

 

MANNAZ is the pleasure of the exchange between peers;

A life of valor calls for a glorious death.

But any given word is immortal.

 

LAGUZ is an endless stretch and the gushing source of life;

The wave stallion bursts into flame and sails seawards.

But the stand of storms works for the ferryman of souls.

 

INGWAZ lies buried in the depths of the earth;

Matured it tears its flesh to coddle men.

But an excess of embraces distracts from the utmost aim.

 

DAGAZ is the Glittering that arouses hope amongst men;

The fires of Surt consume the remains of the ancient world.

But awakened the vitki sees beyond the veil.

 

OTHILA is the sacred ancestral enclosure;

The Follower bonds with the worthy youngest of the noble lineage.

But each one within the boundaries has a role to assume.

Welcome to the Mean Moon issue, with Episode 5 of Ingrid Fischer’s Germanic Soul-Lore. This part is on Dreams, and how they can manifest one’s fylgja for guidance and warning.

 

DREAMS

Dreams played a significant part in the lives of the Germanic peoples, and elaborate descriptions of dreams can be read in the Eddas, as in the Second Lay of Gudrun, the Atlamál and the Baldrs Draumar, and also in Old Icelandic saga literature. Dreams in Old Icelandic literature were a favourite means of developing and taking forward the story, especially if they served as prophecy of what was certain to happen later on in the tale. However, it would be all too simple to state that dreams were used as a stylistic device only, far from it. The Germanic peoples believed strongly in the prophetic nature of dreams and it was even considered a disease not to have dreams (ON draum-stoli means a dream-stolen man, a man who never dreams). One’s own fylgja would appear in one’s dreams and warn of striking disaster, or one would see one’s enemy’s fylgja (mostly in animal shape) approaching and would thus know that the enemy was near. Dreams often supply that which is lacking in a person’s conscious attitude and their contents may be seen as the individual’s psychological self-guidance. The prospective function of dreams is an anticipation of future achievements arising in the unconscious – this is Urdhr and Verdhandi necessarily leading to Skuld, or Urdhr and Verdhandi meet and the dreamer can see that which is to become. Dreams are a combination of all perceptions, thoughts and feelings which have escaped consciousness and, furthermore, they have the help of traces of memory which lie below the conscious threshold and are no longer accessible to the conscious mind.

Dreams in saga literature often serve as a means of conveying the inevitability of fate. Man’s feeling of helplessness and powerlessness against fate is shown in many dreams and frequently it is man’s fylgja that warns of doom. It seems almost as if the fylgja would want to offer man a way out – a way of challenging and defeating fate. And indeed, the fylgja is that part of the body/soul complex that brings hidden resources and powers to the fore and offers them to the individual to absorb them into his conscious traits, thereby almost putting them on a higher level and transforming his life – if the individual is open to this. Dreams in present time may be seen much like the ones described above. They frequently show us a way out or more accurately, a way forward, if we are open to listen to them. It will always be our own soul which shows us the way, and dreams are the window to gain us access to its hidden depths.

In the following I shall give you two famous examples of dreams in the saga literature; I recommend that you read some of the better-known sagas in order to get a fuller picture not only of dreams but of life in olden times in general.

Not only fylgjur in animal shapes appear in dreams, but we also find the expressions draumkona and draummaðr, namely dream-woman and dream-man. The most famous ones are probably Gisli’s¹ two draumkonur, who are two rival dream-women, one good and one evil, one believed to represent the new faith, i.e. Christianity, and the other one the ancestral belief. It is true that Gisli gave up sacrificing after coming under Christian influence when visiting Viborg in Denmark but, more strongly, the saga shows how Gisli adheres to the old ethics to the end and his belief in an inevitable fate is unbroken. The Saga of Gisli stands out from other sagas in that it describes in clear words the strong emotional bonds that finally lead to Gisli’s death, it speaks about feelings and thus goes further than other sagas, which put the emphasis on outer events, leaving the psychology of the hero in between the lines for the reader to guess. As much as the two opposite dream-women foretell Gisli’s untimely death, they even more show his inner turmoil. He has killed his brother-in-law, his beloved sister’s husband, and even though he was honour-bound to do so, he caused grief for his sister and therefore for himself and his family. Also, he is not by nature violent but is calm and considerate and a loving family man. The saga goes even further and describes how much Gisli has come to fear the dreams of the evil dream-woman; his anxiety grows to such an extent that he is unable to stay on his own and he risks discovery by his enemies rather than being apart from his loving wife and her comfort. One might say that Gisli’s slaying of his brother-in-law is a deed which is out of character and goes against the conscious traits of the hero. The blood and gore which plague him in his dreams accentuate his opposite side and as he is unable to balance the opposites in ways that would lead to him growing as personality, they seal his fate. This is made quite clear in the text where we can see the hero’s increasing inner exhaustion. It is never his courage that fails him, he becomes too weary and there is something self-resigning and passive in the way he faces his hopelessness. In the end, it seems that Gisli is glad to have arrived at the action of his last fight and his death is welcomed as bringing long desired peace.

Another well cited example of dreams in the saga literature can be found in Njal’s Saga. Gunnar of Hlidarend, lifelong friend of Njal, has the following dream: ‘…and in my dream I saw a pack of wolves coming out at me. I retreated down to Rang River, where they leapt at me from all sides, but we fought them off. I shot those that were in the lead, until they pressed so close that I could not use my bow. Then I drew my sword and fought with sword in one hand and halberd in the other; I never used my shield and did not know what was protecting me. I killed many of the wolves, and you were protecting me, Kolskegg; but they overpowered Hjort and ripped open his chest, and one of them seized his heart in its jaws. Then in my dream my rage was so violent that I sliced the creature in two behind the shoulder; and with that the rest of the wolves fled.’² Later that very day of Gunnar’s prophetic dream events took place just as he had described them. Again, we see animals as the bearers of what is to come, and in this example they are wolves as the fylgjur of Gunnar’s enemies. Not long after this bloodbath with the feud ongoing, Gunnar is made an outlaw for three years and ordered to leave the country. He refuses to do so, as he cannot bear to give up the beauty of his homeland. This and the treachery of his wife, Hallgerd, eventually lead to his untimely death – just as his prescient friend Njal had foreseen.

Practical work:

Having concentrated on the core triad for the last two weeks, you should now start keeping a dream diary (if you already do so, even better). Watch out for any symbolism or very realistic dreams about the three components of your soul’s core triad. Are there any animals appearing in your dreams? Do you feel they could hint at your animal fetch?

1 The Saga of Gisli, translated by George Johnston, notes by Peter Foote. University of Toronto Press, Toronto, 1963.

2 Njal’s Saga. Translated with an introduction by Magnus Magnusson and Hermann Pálsson, Penguin Books, 1960

Welcome to this, the Afterlithe-Moon issue. This month, we have a Rune-Poem by D. Jonathan Jones, who is a poet and a Master in the Rune-Gild. His books of poetry include The Songs, available here.

There are a small number of historical Rune-Poems which all runic practitioners will (or should) know their way around. Beyond this, part of the initiatic process of the Rune-Gild’s Nine Doors programme is to write your own Rune-Poem, crystallizing your own understanding of the staves into something that can act to inspire other Runers. David’s Rune-Poem is written to the staves of the Elder Futhark, in a special structure with nine lines to each stave.

We shall also be publishing other Rune-Poems in the next few months.

Three Paths Through Midgard

A Rune Poem
By D. Jonathan Jones

Fehu
I awoke! As if at the first dawn.
What was this burning that stirred me thus?
As if all my open eyes beheld
Were a flame and as lit from within
Or as by some magic spun from gold.
Where my eye fell was fire and gilded.
Kin saw not, minds chewed cud and slept still.
The grey shapes moved silent in the woods,
Heavy hung the gold torc mystery.

Uruz
Fled I from the herd to the wild moor.
To heal, grow strong, twixt water and earth,
And so thus I did in Utgard thrive.
Bold I roamed the moor to hone my form.
I sought the beast, sought the great horned one,
My mettle to prove in hunt and kill.
I saw him not, save once in a dream,
He nosed the scraps of my shed man-skin
Said “No beast here is abroad save thee”.

Thurisaz
Thus, as a thurs I roamed the wildness,
And delighted in my strength and force,
Hate and fear my only bedfellows.
A terror to men and women was,
Till all had fled and alone I stood.
Raged I then at the wind and mountains,
Raged I then at my own fierce raging,
Until, as though I watched some other,
Sat down a fool and in this was wise.

Ansuz
Now my power seethed within its banks.
Safe, the sword enclosed within its sheath.
Thus, I set to seeking out all things
And by knowing all, perchance know me.
My eyes sought the stuff behind all forms,
Each knowing brought a hundred questions.
Was there no end to each mystery,
As I spoke its name and knew its soul?
So behold! A god now rode the beast.

Raidho
And, so the road it lay before me.
Ever I sought my stories’ kenning.
Who knows how far then did I wander?
Oft I made a path where there was none;
Driven on as if I was the mount,
Lost to the rhythm of the riding
And found within the rhythm of it.
I was road and rider and ridden;
The endless destination was self.

Kenaz
By my journeying, changed was I made.
The fevered sore brought forth the new flesh.
Ran glad into uncertain darkness,
Lit with torch of self in search of self,
Stoked I glad the timbers of my pyre.
Beat slag from mind with hammer of mind,
Forged anew, shook myself from ashes,
Burning with craft all formed at my thought,
As though it were thought that gave all form.

Gebo
Given the greatest of gifts I was.
Yet, was this body new to my mind
Or mind gifted fresh to this poor flesh?
Each breath as though a world in full flux,
Each moment charged with aeons portent,
I was gift and giver and gifted.
This one prize of all and of nothing.
To which god should I give for this luck?
Mind given mind, in this I was god.

Wunjo
Joy was all; life a roaring pleasure.
From this high place my laughter rang loud,
But the shadow that it must end loomed.
How then to cheat death in this revel?
Where voices sang my name, there was I.
Where mind sought mind, there was I searching.
Return then I, though outside remain.
I mirthsome rode to holy mischief,
To light fires in the minds of sleepers.

Hagalaz
Wyrd crashed in like hail on the barley.
Knew we our borders through their breaching.
Most crave frith, good harvest, a straw death.
What is a warrior without war?
Secret our smiles at peace broke in shards,
Enemies welcomed as an old friend.
War is the holy; it brings forth change.
Wherever swords meet there is Utgard,
The sacred isle where heroes endure.

Nauthiz
The frost of war drove our need fire’s bow,
This, then, the ordeal of our heart’s wood.
All chests tighten at the call to arms;
When steel meets steel, which need proves greater?
The coward’s life or family name?
Whose bold red dew flows down to wyrd’s well?
Whose heart proves weak and beats on in shame?
Who shall lie ash and who rise as fire?
Our doubt, the grand thrill in this testing.

Isa
With ice of will we hearth the war fire,
Fix firm in mind thought of victory.
The new blade is tempered in cold flow,
Thus hard, its doom to bathe in blood warm.
True warriors cool in battle’s heat,
Heart as stone to the death, gore and screams.
His own death as nought to the bold man.
Worse, freeze in fear or flee from the field?
Who dies, whose name and deeds live in song?

Jera
The season of war gives frith meaning.
Long are the hours at play with steel,
Thus, arms grow stronger for the harvest.
The fruit of this toil: skill at slaughter.
What is sown and grown must then be reaped.
How we die gives meaning to our life.
Warriors scream loud at the spear thrust,
But greater fear a silent deathbed,
Worse still, live on as a foe’s plough-slave.

Eihwaz
Dead is the tree without root or branch.
Rich blood flows down to roots, well and Hel,
What soars up to the highest of boughs?
Warriors are all light and all shade,
Minds dappled wild in Utgard’s bower.
Our praises sung while we were at war,
Fearful eyes watch us brood in boredom.
Peace? Better for us death’s cold embrace;
I know not me till I find a foe.

Perthro
Fate rolls our dice out on the bloodfield,
Where luck is tested best, in struggle.
Some throw the bloodtwigs and ponder Wyrd,
But the warrior’s soul is action
In the gaming of king against king,
But kings move, too, as a God’s board piece.
When swords meet, time stops, wyrd and should sleep.
The unfolding is all, is endless,
Till the lot is cast and one must die.

Elhaz
He gave good service, left not the field,
Bold in the fray his cuts were deadly.
Slain now, in youth’s full bloom and vigour.
Did some eye mark him for greater cause?
Though he lies dead what figure here comes?
Beauty beckons. A sister? Lover?
His soul soars up away from cold flesh,
In swan wings gathered toward a new fray:
Just reward for valour well tested.

Sowelo
Now onward and upward toward the glow,
Holy light strikes the crystal of will,
Thus the rainbow bridge is cast for use.
Stepped out of the cycles of rebirth,
The bold of all ages now benchmates,
No longer is a piece, but player.
He stands shoulder to shoulder with Gods
In the fight at the grand end of time,
Where all is renewed in destruction.

Tiwaz
Gazing up I saw the cloak of sky.
While heaven holds its stead all is well.
The night bright eye of the pole gazed down,
The holy nail round which the stars spin,
Sure comfort is found in this wheel turn.
Earthly life plays out in the same round,
Each man’s life as the heavens mirror,
Subject, as the stars, to rise and fall,
Lone, the tree that props this vault, endures.

Berkano
Below me lay the mothering earth.
Midgard’s mound, oh this fertile barrow,
Birch door of secrets from which life springs.
Glimpsed in the swell of breasts and buttocks,
Sap rises at her beck and lust blooms.
Full fearsome, too, into death she calls,
Roaring, cast our lot into her void.
Know all and nought in that timeless spend,
Snug grain of should in dark womb slumbers.

Ehwaz
Lovers bedded close, content entwined,
The mystery of two become one,
From this pairing oft is made new life.
Hand in hand, earth and sky make the space
Where Midgard teams with life full holy.
I ploughed a furrow, cut staves in soil,
Horses pulled together, might combined.
I, the guiding hand and eye behind,
All pairs are false: hidden lurks a third.

Mannaz
Man is made as the measure of things.
His is the eye and his is the hand.
Those parts that the noble Gods gave up
He wields, for their purpose, in Midgard.
Short his span: a curse or a blessing?
Joy and sorrow he finds in others.
Needs enemies, as much as lovers,
To describe like and not like for him.
In toil, for stead, as man amongst men.

Laguz
Life is flow, one form to another.
Each man as a ship, his soul the crew.
He braves the restless waters of life.
This cargo of gold he brings to land.
His name, his word, all that he has done,
These goods his kin share after he goes.
Rich they are while his memory lives.
Gone he to earth full moist and fertile,
Forth burst the new shoots from this rich loam.

Ingwaz
All men go to grave to rest a while,
Even Gods must face the eastern dark.
Oft the barrow beckons like a bed.
It is wise to say “Enough!” and cease.
The sleeper dreams, his arms and legs thrash,
The mind of man is never stillness;
Though all movement he has yet done nought,
He must plant his dreams in solid earth
To reap a crop, else the seed sleeps on.

Dagaz
Behold! A furious dusk or dawn.
This moment of my death spread endless
In a wave of changing, changeless glow,
Where opposites yet collapse and fuse,
Where light reveals dark as his brother
I danced twixt horns of all dilemmas.
Stepped out, yet dissolved within the whole,
Twined round all as though it were my love,
Mind everywhere was I, then gone.

Othala
At the homestead’s edge there stands a howe.
There my father’s bones lie and moulder,
His father’s, too, and down through ages.
This mound marks full well what we call ours,
His flesh and blood wed to this good earth.
Where the rest of him be, no man knows,
Though I glimpse his eyes in my children’s
As they stare forth bold into Utgard
And challenge all who deny their place.

Welcome to the Lithe-Moon issue of the Rûna-Eormensyl blog. New Moon is tomorrow, so you are getting this a little early, for various reasons. We are continuing with Ingrid Fischer’s ‘Introduction to Germanic Soul-Lore’; this is episode 4. In this piece, Fischer writes about the traditional view of identity, which is rather different from what most people assume about themselves.

DEVELOPMENT OF PERSONALITY

To quote C G Jung, ‘Personality is a seed that can only develop by slow stages throughout life. There is no personality without definiteness, wholeness and ripeness. These three qualities cannot and should not be expected of the child, as they would rob it of childhood.’

Our Germanic ancestors waited until the ninth day after a child was born, before they named it. These were harsh times and a child was considered to have a soul only once it had proven that it was strong enough to survive these first critical days. In general, on the ninth day the father would look at his child and something in the child’s appearance would remind him of an ancestor, whose name the child was then given. According to the saga literature, the child was picked up by the father, put on his knee and then sprinkled with water (ON vatni ausa) whilst being given his name. By naming the child, ‘it’ became a ‘he’, a fully accepted member of the tribe with all its rights and responsibilities. And of course another, very important thing happened when the child was named. By receiving the name of an ancestor, the child received the traits and reputation of this ancestor and all expectations that came with it. Now there is a start to the development of one’s personality!

Every man born carries in him seeds (or you may call them genes, inheritance of the forefathers, fate) for what he may or may not develop; they are hard or impossible to discern, and only his deeds will reveal who he really is. This progress will span a whole lifetime and it is the essence of nature to move only when causal necessity forces her to. Human nature follows the same rules and human personality will only ever develop itself by force, be that an inner or outer one. Even in young children we can observe this rule. When they go through one of the typical childhood diseases like measles or mumps, they seem to have matured afterwards. All critical stages in life, be they pleasant or painful, will bring about changes in a man’s psyche and are a ‘kick in the behind’ reminder from nature that it is high time to get on with developing one’s personality.

Remember the Old Norse soul complex from last week, the core of this is the triad hugr, minni and óðr and it is here that the work has to start.

Hugr (hugh) is the conscious will and the cognitive faculty; minni (myne) is in simple terms memory and the reflective faculty; óðr (wode) is the principle of inspiration or enthusiasm. Surrounding these is the hamingja-fylgja complex. The fylgja or fetch is a complex entity and is partly independent from the individual. This is the faculty where a man’s deeds are stored and that makes a man grow; transpersonal powers and responsibilities are transmitted to man from here. Hamingja or luck is closely related to the fetch and is also partly independent from man.

Work on hugr will mean studying and increasing one’s knowledge; with it memory (minni) will increase and also one’s ability to reflect on the learned. As a consequence, this newly acquired knowledge and its assimilation into one’s storage of understanding and view of the world, will trigger connections with facts previously known and may contribute to a new and more mature world view. Following on from here, óðr may be activated and new creativity and inspiration will enhance your life even further. When óðr, hugr and minni grow and push their boundaries outwards, this will cause the fylgja to grow also and consequentially, the hamingja. Also, successful development involves balance. No good would come of it if only one part of our core triad were to enhance. The hamingja will grow because your actions and deeds will be informed by greater wisdom, creativity and maturity; you will be more ‘lucky’, you will have more influence and power, and if you pass some of this on to others, the whole complex will gain again.

To illustrate how our forefathers saw this development I insert a quote from the Hávamál, which is part of the Poetic or Elder Edda:

Þá nam ek frœvaz         ok fróðr vera

            Ok vaxa ok vel havaz

Orð mér af orði              orz leitaði 

Verk mér af verki         verks leitaði

 

‘Then I began to thrive,

And grew well in wisdom.

One word led me to another –

One Deed led me to further deeds.’

– Hávamál, stanza 141.

 

Practical work:

Start again by standing up straight, inhale and intone, three times:

uruz   ansuz isa eihwaz   ehwaz odhilaz

uruz   ansuz isa eihwaz   ehwaz odhilaz

uruz   ansuz isa eihwaz   ehwaz odhilaz

Now visualise again the core triad covering your whole body in a three-dimensional triangle: óðr is located at the crown of your head, hugr to your right and minni to your left. Continue where you left off last week, but this time try and find out any imbalances and obstacles to a free flow of energy between the three parts of your soul. Is any one the strongest; is one too weak etc.

Again, record all your findings and keep concentrating on imbalances and what you intend doing about them.

A happy Storm-Moon to all our readers! This month we have a tiny excerpt from Christopher Smith’s 2016 ground-breaking study ‘Icelandic Magic’. I reviewed the book here and would recommend it highly for anyone interested in Northern European magic.

Abridged extract from “Icelandic Magic” by Christopher A. Smith (Avalonia, 2015)

Introduction

More than any other country, perhaps, Iceland has an iconic status for students of ancient Germanic lore and culture. The reasons for this are not hard to seek. The environment itself is dramatic, the perfect setting for tales of heroism and magic. A sub-Arctic island, oft-times battered by the cold waves of the North Atlantic Ocean and storms from the polar region, it is a land of glaciers and volcanoes where the primal forces of fire and ice compete to increase the hardship of the small population. Summers are brief and winters long, while spring and autumn struggle to find any place at all among the seasons. Arable land is hard to find, and even good grazing is at a premium. The earth itself shakes and rumbles from time to time. It is a land of liminality, where the world of men is squeezed and constricted between vast and hostile forces.

Remarkably, however, Iceland is less famous for its geography than for the vast outpouring of literature that its people have produced, especially in the Middle Ages. The very word ‘saga’, meaning ‘story’, has passed into English to denote a tale that is epic and heroic. From the earliest settlement at the end of the ninth century, Icelanders developed, passed on, and eventually recorded the tales of their lives, first by oral tradition and eventually through the establishment of a strong tradition of vernacular literacy.

The people of Iceland jealously guard and preserve their culture. Though predominantly Lutheran by religion these days, they are as familiar with the mythic tales of Thor and Odin as they are with tales from the Bible. Even young children are taught at school to recite “Þat mælti mín móðir”, the first poem of the famous Viking, poet and sorcerer Egill Skallagrímson.   The Icelandic language has changed little over the past thousand years, certainly in comparison to its linguistic relatives in Scandinavia, the European mainland and the English-speaking world, and the country’s educational establishment does its best to prevent the adoption of foreign words.

From the elaborate sagas of the Middle Ages to the folk tales and legends collected and recorded by Jón Árnason in the nineteenth century, the stories of Iceland are shot through with magic and dealings with supernatural beings such as elves, land-wights, ghosts and trolls. Even today, many Icelanders attach credence to the continued presence of the ‘hidden folk’; even if they do not absolutely believe in elves, they would not go so far as to categorically deny their existence. It has even been known for a major road to be diverted so as to avoid disturbing a place where the hidden folk are reputed to have their home.

The grimoires (galdrabækur, or ‘books of magic’) in the Icelandic National Library and the Arni Magnusson Institute, together with other old manuscripts relating to runes and magic, are, or certainly should be, of great interest to anyone with a serious interest in the authentic practicalities of Germanic magic. They are certainly not hidden from view, as many of them have been catalogued on the website www.handrit.is together with others in the Arnamagnaean Institute in Copenhagen, and even made available as digitized copies, which one can download. The earliest, AM 434a 12mo ‘Lækningakver’ dates from between 1475 and 1525; the most recent, ‘Rún’, dates from 1928

Given the availability of this material, it comes as something of a surprise that nobody has yet attempted a comprehensive survey of Icelandic magic in the early modern period. Much has been written about magic and witchcraft in the Middle Ages, but most of these works tend to focus on the anthropological, ethnographic or sociological perspectives without much consideration for the practicalities, the ‘nuts and bolts’ if you like, of magic in northern Europe

 

An even greater surprise is that these preserved volumes of Icelandic sorcery have been so little exploited and largely ignored by modern practitioners of Rune magic. Instead, much emphasis is given to the characters of the various Futhark rows (Elder, Anglo-Frisian and Younger) and their esoteric interpretation, mainly based on the evidence of three Rune poems and a handful of archaeological finds whose magical significance will always remain the subject of debate. Considering that the use of Runes plays a relatively minor part in the early modern magic of Iceland, is it possible that we have been barking up the wrong tree all the time?