Category Archives: Myth and Story

Loki Gives Birth

Fall                                                                    Harvest Moon

In the Asgard myth a builder offers to build the walls and palaces of Asgard in three years if he can have the sun, the moon, and Freyja.  The gods tell him he can have one year and no help. He asks to have his horse help and Loki advises agreement.  The horse works very hard and the gods see, with three days left, that the man might finish in one year.

(Thor & Loki being adoptive brothers is an idea from comics, not myth)

They panic and demand that Loki prevent him.  Loki turns himself into a mare and distracts the man’s horse by neighing until he comes to her.  Though he tried, the man did not succeed in catching his horse and flew into a rage.  The rage revealed him to be a giant.  Thor came back to Asgard and slew him.

Some time later Loki gave birth to Sleipnir, Odin’s eight-legged mount.

What I Learned in Seminary

Fall                                                                         Harvest Moon

A fascinating journey into Loki scholarship and through it into international scholarship on folklore has made me blink more than once in its equivalency to the methods of biblical scholarship I learned in seminary.  First, there is textual criticism.  That is, did this instance of a Loki tale originate in an Old Norse tale or a broader European context?  If it originated in an Old Norse tale we imagine it may accurately reflect the actual sentiment toward Loki held by those who followed the old Norse faith.

However.  Even if it originated in an Old Norse folktale, does it have antecedents in either nearby folkloric material, especially Celtic since the Norsemen conquered and occupied Ireland, or in traditions from a larger ambit, say Greek or Roman mythology?  To the extent the story reflects Greco-Roman or Celtic material it cannot be said with confidence to reflect the view of the ancient Norse.

Here’s an example.  There is, in a tale in which Loki, traveling, takes a staff to a large eagle, really a giant named Thjassi in animal form.  The staff sticks to Thjassi and Loki to the staff through the giant’s magic.  In return for his release Loki agrees to get Idunna and her apples for the giant.

(Edward Burne Jones the_garden_of_hesperides_1870)

Once released Loki goes to Idunna and tells her he’s seen better apples in the forest.  She wonders at this, gathers her apples for comparison and leaves Asgard with Loki.  When she does, Thjassi in his eagle form swoops down and gathers her up.

Without Idunna’s apples the gods and goddesses of Asgard wrinkle and turn gray, beginning to grow old.

There’s more, but there’s enough here to make the point.  Here’s a paragraph from Wiki on the Garden of the Hesperides:

The Garden of the Hesperides, Atlas’ daughters, was Hera‘s orchard in the far western corner of the world, where either a single tree or a grove of trees bearing immortality-giving golden apples grew. Hera placed in the garden a never-sleeping, hundred-headed dragon (named Ladon) as an additional safeguard. The 11th Labor of Hercules was to steal the golden apples from the garden. He stole the apples by asking Atlas to steal the apples and in return he would hold up the sky for him. After Atlas picked the apples Hercules asked Atlas to hold up the sky for him while he made a pad of the lion skin. He never took back his job of holding up the sky and ran away.

So this Loki story recapitulates a Greek story about the hero Hercules.  Not likely to be a source of good information about Loki and the ancient Norse faith.

Here’s one other thing I’ve relearned in this foray.  Folklorists have a numbered system for the appearance of story types.  In the myth of Baldr, after he dies from an arrow made of mistletoe, an attempt is made to bring him back from Niflheim, the realm of Hel, Loki’s monstrous daughter.   In the Aarne-Thompson system of folklore classification this is a 931, in essence a variation on the story of Orpheus.

Interlibrary Loan

Fall                                                                  Harvest Moon

Certain last century, even last millennium information transfer methods still have traction.  After a frustrating search through various book selling websites, Loki in Scandinavian Mythology was not available.  There are also no e-books of it online.

A library search did turn up a copy in the University of Minnesota Wilson Library.  But Andover occupies the exurban fringe, so close to the cornfields, so far from the U.  At first reading it at Wilson seemed like a good idea.  No.  Too much driving.  Hmmm.

Aha.  Interlibrary loan.  Sure enough, I went on the Anoka County Library Website and located a way to enter a request for this book from Wilson library.  The system, for free, delivered it to my local library, the Rum River Library and on Monday I went over and picked it up.  It has to be back in three weeks, by October 14th, no renewals.  Doesn’t matter.  I’ll finish with it well before then.

Let’s hear a cheer for physical copies and librarians.

Yes, but.  Let’s hear another cheer for the folks busily scanning books in to great digital depositories so maybe the next time a hard to locate book is needed, it has a copy in the Great Library, the one in the Cloud.

Loki and Scansion

Lughnasa                                                                                                            Harvest Moon

“Someday you will be old enough to start reading fairy tales again.”  C.S. Lewis

After a day with Loki and scansion, I got tired and was happy to have supper and watch Wire in the Blood with Kate.  Loki’s fascinating, an original bad jotun, and just can’t help making mischief, a festering ball of chaos.  He’ll make a great character once I figure out how to include him in the story.

(Gullinbursti, the Golden Boar.  Part of the Loki saga)

Scansion, on the other hand.  Oy vey!  I find recognizing meter, the stressed and unstressed syllables difficult.  I’ve never learned it and I need to now in order to finish my essay on Dickinson’s poem.  After locating some handy brief exercises, my head hurt.  So, I stopped.

Tomorrow.

The gong fu cha goes well.  I have a rhythm with it now and I produce six pots of tea out of a single batch of tea leaves.  The last two infusions, surprisingly, are the best.  At least so far.

The Springtime of the Soul

Lughnasa                                                               Harvest Moon

This northern soul breathes easier when the mornings are cooler, even cold.  The bright blue Canadian skies or the dark gray roof of low cumulus clouds make me happy, too.  As we tilt toward September 29th, Michaelmas, the springtime of the soul holiday in my sacred calendar, my inner life revs up, or perhaps better, cycles down.  The humus built up over the growing season sees the first shoots of ideas sowed either long ago or just yesterday.

Right now I’m in the grip of Loki, trying to wrestle a believable and exciting villain from his myth and legend.  He and his kids get their own book, this next one, Loki’s Children, so Dad is important.  He’ll come clearer to me as the fall progresses.  (Death of Balder)

 

Darkness Approaches

Lughnasa                                                            Harvest Moon

The night takes on a different quality as fall approaches.  In my study I’m half below ground with windows opening out at waist level, the lawn sweeps toward me.  An animal safe in a warm burrow, protected from the storm and cold, or, I would be if there were any storm and cold.

(Giovanni Battista Ciolina – Melancholy Twilight (1899)

The change in light, the lower night time temperatures, the scudding clouds like there were today change the seasonal tone from brightness and beaches and growing things to  darker and more forbidding shades.  As this shift deepens and the night begins to overtake the day, as happens at Mabon, the Fall Equinox, most of us feel a bit uneasy, perhaps even a good deal.

By late November and well into December this uneasiness has intensified, perhaps that paleolithic fear that the sun would no longer rise at all, or that it would remain in its pale and weakened state, never again to warm us and encourage the plants.  So we fight back with bonfires and candles and festivities, lamps and decorations, gifts and food, celebration in spite of the vague menace.

Thus, by some wry twist the darkest and bleakest days of the year have the most joy, the most song, the most brave gestures we know.  We will move, around Thanksgiving, into Holimonth, a season stretching from then until Epiphany that features many of the best loved days and nights of the whole year:  Hannukah, Christmas, Posada, Winter Solstice, New Years, Deepavali.

Perhaps I would even go so far as to declare a Holiseason beginning on September 29th, the feast of the archangel Michael and lasting from then right through Epiphany.  All of October, November and December months of special observance with holidays as peaks lifted up from a plateau of enhanced sensibilities that lasts the entire time.  Why not?

My Mythic Past

Lughnasa                                                                           Honey Moon

Most of the day among the eddas of Snorri Sturluson and various books on German and Scandinavian mythology.  This is the material that lies beneath the Tailte trilogy, this one at least, and it has fascinated me for a long time.  Since over half of my ancestry is Germanic, this is the song of my people, the stories and tales which knit the world together for ancient northern Europeans.

(Snorri)

In my writing, mostly, I have focused on Celtic and northern European lore because they are my heritage, a vein I can mine without approbation of cultural encroachment.  I don’t believe that’s necessary, but it makes my psychic life easier.

I’m still trying to understand the elusive Loki, often called a trickster, but in the end an enemy of the Aesir, leading the giants and the unworthy dead against them.  The einherjar, the worthy dead, those who died in battle and were chosen by the Valkyries to feast in Valhalla until Ragnarok and the Aesir, the pantheon of Nordic gods fight to keep the world whole.  Loki is a character central to Loki’s Children and the book after that, The Unmaking, but he’s tough to define and will be a challenge to create.  That’s what makes him interesting, of course.

(Loki, the Trickster — artwork by Arthur Rackham, 1910)

A lot of the best scholarship on the eddas and other poems of the northern European tradition are in German and Scandinavian languages so it is sometimes a struggle to find decent material.  I’m lucky in one regard in that years ago, on a whim, I picked up a multi-volume work called the Norroena:  the history and romance of northern Europe.  It contains translations into English of the major works, up to date as of 1905.  I have read all the works in the Edda volume, a fascinating collection of stories put together by an Icelandic scholar, politician and Skald, Snorri Sturluson.

 

End in Sight

Summer                                                                        Moon of the First Harvest

I will finish the third revision of Missing this week.  There are putzy things to do after that like mark all scenes as 3rd draft revised, note all place, object and characters in the notes section of scrivener, change headings for consistency and monitor transitions.  I will also spend a bit of time considering the new draft from the standpoints of narrative coherence, focus on John and Graham and John’s disappearance and action.

(Fáfnir guards the gold hoard in this illustration by Arthur Rackham to Richard Wagner’s Siegfried.)

At that point, probably two weeks from now, possibly less, I’ll turn it over to Kate for a careful read, i.e. grammar, spelling, logical consistency, continuity.  When she’s done, I’ll see if any of the beta readers want a crack at version III.  In the interim I’ll go back to research and plotting for Loki’s Children.

 

Surprise!

Summer                                                                   Solstice Moon

Several readers of my book have expressed surprise at its almost young adult focus and the fantasy elements.  I suppose this comes from two sources; that is,  people don’t know all of my interests or fascinations and there’s probably an expectation that my writing would be as cerebral as my public persona.

(The Musician and the Hermit – Moritz von Schwind)

Awhile back I read an interview with Phillip Pullman author of the fantasy trilogy, His Dark Materials.  In it he said he’d like to write serious, literary fare, but whatever subject matter comes to him, comes in the form of fantasy.  Same with me.  In a way I don’t think it’s surprising since the religious and philosophical and folk tale/fairy tale/folk lore world has been my constant companion since I came to a conscious awareness of myself.  That’s just the way the world makes sense to me, through the mythic and the archetypal.

The life of the mind, learning and knowledge, also captivates me, and I find a lot of fun there, too, but the core for me, the essence is in the world of the imagination.  So when I sit down to write, well that’s the clothing that drapes itself over my stories.

The Ultimate Traveler

Summer                                                                             Solstice Moon

In my own travels I often look to find myself as the other, therefore to see myself more clearly.  When in Angkor, for example, the quarter mile long bas relief sculpture, which culminates in the churning of the sea of milk by Vishnu, made the religious worldview of these 1100 A.D. Khmer Hindus evident.  What they imagined, I could see, just as a visitor to any Catholic church can see paintings of saints, views of the Last Judgment, or a man on a cross, covered only with a loin cloth, a crown of thorns on his brow.

On the streets of Bangkok vendors sold for less than twenty U.S. cents fruits I had never known existed:  jack fruit, durian, dragon fruit.  Alleys less than three feet wide ran between store fronts filled with men’s, women’s, children’s clothing, plumbing supplies, watches, toys, home furnishings.  The crowds packed into the places were large and hot.  Not at all like the Mall of America.

(Voyager’s 1 and 2 at the heliopause where the sun’s magnetic field hits the pressure of interstellar winds)

But.  There is no place on earth I can go where the influence of the sun cannot reach me.

Now this 35 year old pilgrim, on a trek to San Arcturus, or a Holy Well in the midst of the Orion nebula, will soon leave the sun’s influence behind.  Forever.  No magnetic field.  No warmth.  The heliosphere in the rear view mirror.  The solar system in the rear view mirror.  At least as we know it.  The Oort cloud is considered by some to be the true outer boundary of the solar system, but that boundary is still some 14,000 years away.

This human artifact has positioned itself as other by virtue of its madeness.  It was not crafted by the furnaces of the big bang, or the stellar ovens that crunch out elemental particles.  It was not made by the collision between planetary bodies or asteroids or volcanic activity.  No, it was made by human beings out of materials created in all those ways.  And now we have returned them to their origin, refashioned and able to talk about their experience.

But, ironically, Voyager is, exactly, the universe reflecting on itself, seeing itself, knowing itself.  Its pilgrimage is the same one Apollo inscribed on the doorway over his Delphic temple, Know thyself.  Only in this case the pilgrim is the universe, voyaging not to experience itself as other, but as its self.  Thus, Voyager can be seen as a metaphor for our inner journey, where we try to move beyond the Oort field of the Self, in order to better know the Self.  An equally daunting  trail.