Icelandic Tradition Research Articles

Middle Eastern Tales in Icelandic Tradition

The article surveys translations of two Middle Eastern collections of tales, The Thousand and One Nights and The Thousand and One Days, into Icelandic. It demonstrates how both story collections were translated and repeatedly copied. Tales originating from the collections also circulated in Icelandic oral tradition when the recording of folktales began in the nineteenth century and were thus recorded along with others. Shedding light on story-telling tradition in Iceland at a time when national characteristics were being emphasized, the article demonstrates that Icelandic narrative culture was extremely varied and international.

Gísli Súrsson as Egða andspillir. An Obscure Kenning and its Implications for Tribal Identities in Tenth-Century Iceland

Gísla saga súrssonar (thirteenth century) is famous for the tragic destiny of its main character, the Norwegian settler and outlaw Gísli Súrsson, a destiny that to some extent is predicted by the many dream stanzas Gísli utters in the saga. In one of these stanzas, Gísli refers to himself as Egða andspillir ‘confidant of the Egðir’, i.e. the people of the Norwegian region of Agder. This kenning has puzzled skaldic scholars and editors of Gísla saga, and no satisfactory explanation has so far been proposed. In the present article, this kenning is explained as a við(r)kenning, that is, a description in terms of a person’s attributes, which is based on factual knowledge about the person involved. I evaluate the stanza as authentic, and so implying that Gísli actually was the friend of people in Iceland in the tenth century who could be called Egðir. I show that these Egðir most likely were members of the family of Ingjaldr in Hergilsey, who according to the saga hid Gísli from his enemies for three years, and whom Gísli mentions in one of his other stanzas. Landnámabók tells us that Ingjaldr’s paternal grandfather came to Iceland from Agder together with the chieftain Geirmundr heljarskinn, and that Geirmundr and his men had to flee from Norway because of the new centralized rule of Haraldr hárfagri. The story about Haraldr’s ofríki (‘harsh rule’) is probably exaggerated in the Icelandic tradition, but there is support in the sources for the hypothesis that a retinue of men who lost against Haraldr in the battle of Hafrsfjord (ca. 900) left Agder for Iceland. The fact that Ingjaldr and his family could be considered Egðir two generations and more than sixty years after they had left Agder calls for an explanation. This article argues that the special background of these families in a lost kingdom of Agder may have contributed to strengthening their identity as a special group of people in the recently populated Iceland.

Icelandic Dares, Swedish Guido. The Reception of the Trojan Matter in the North

The present article aims at a presentation of the Old East and West Norse texts related to the Matter of Troy. As such, it introduces the most important East and West Norse litterary genres, allowing the possibility of placing Old Icelandic Trojumanna and Old Swedish Historia Trojana in its context (there is no Old Norwegian Trojan translation, and the only Danish one is postmedieval). The Old Icelandic tradition is twofold, and its textual sources vary. As usual with translations of historiographical texts into Old Icelandic, both traditions show an adaptation to the so-called Icelandic family saga style, briefly presented here. The Old Swedish text from the beginning of the 16th century is based on Guido de Columnis' Historia destructionis Troiae and also underwent considerable changes in the process of translation, for which it may be possible to identify the author responsible. The changes concern both additions and, above all, omissions, expecially of passages showing the source author's personal interests and his misogyny. The scholarly reception of the two very differing Trojan traditions presented can be judged typical of the difference in interest between West and East Norse literature.

An Edition and Translation of The Icelandic Book of Joseph and Aseneth

The existence of the Icelandic Book of Joseph and Aseneth was first brought to scholarly attention in M.R. James's introduction to Batiffol's Latin edition of 1889. Since then commentators have continued to include the Icelandic tradition in lists of translated versions (often by the shelfmark provided by M.R. James, BL Add MS 11068). However, until now the Aseneth contained in BL Add MS 11068 has remained unedited. This article provides an annotated edition and translation which presents the Icelandic Aseneth in comparison with the exemplar from which it was translated, namely Hans Mogensen's Danish version of 1580. Most importantly, the Icelandic translator, Árni Halldórsson (1630–1687), made an original contribution to the tradition, authoring a unique account of the death of Aseneth from grief.

An Icelandic Heritage: The Frame for One Teacher’s Service (1946–2006)

This qualitative research manuscript details a biographical study, which documents the life story of one female teacher, Sylvia May Peiluck, of Gimli, Manitoba, an educator of 45 years. Her Icelandic heritage and her commitment to teach the children of Manitoba created a strong bond, a nexus. What educational changes did she witness during her lifetime and teaching career? How were her Icelandic cultural roots manifested in her life story? How has her involvement in education and her Icelandic heritage been maintained? What will be her legacy? These four questions are addressed within the context of Peiluck’s Icelandic tradition and her long teaching vocation in Manitoba, particularly in the New Iceland area.

Earl Rögnvaldr of Orkney, a Poet of the Viking Diaspora

Kali Kolsson, later Rognvaldr, Earl of Orkney, is a truly international figure who was born in Norway, travelled to England, came to power in Northern Scotland, and then made a memorable journey through Europe and the Mediterranean to the Holy Land. His poetry, composed in all of these places, survives only in Icelandic tradition and Icelandic manuscripts. This paper argues that the career and poetry of Rognvaldr exemplifies the variation typical within a dispersed but interconnected culture, which might be termed the “Viking diaspora”. Rognvaldr was by training a Norwegian poet, but by practice and influence an Icelandic and Orcadian—indeed a European—poet. Each of these places had its own version of the culture, some of which shared a common derivation from the Scandinavian homeland, but much of which was rather the product of the dispersion from that homeland. By examining his poetry, and his interest in runic writing, it is possible to exemplify the diasporic process in which inherited cultural traditions from the homeland are reinvigorated and even reinvented in the context of multilateral cultural encounters.

What the Bear Said: Skald Tales From New Iceland by W. D. Valgardson (review)

Reviewed by: What the Bear Said: Skald Tales From New Iceland by W. D. Valgardson Birna Bjarnadóttir, Chair W. D. Valgardson . What the Bear Said: Skald Tales From New Iceland. Winnipeg: Turnstone Press, 2011. 130 pp. Preface. Glossary. $19.00 hc. In this collection of fourteen short stories, W. D. Valgardson writes about nineteenth-century Icelandic immigrants and their descendants in New Iceland, Manitoba, placing the experience of emigration at the heart of his subject matter. Some of the stories take place in both the country left and the one arrived to, offering a spectacular view of the vastness of experience in an emigrant's life. Equally captivating are the stories that describe a settler's hard fought attempt to adjust to even the most unforgiving circumstances. All of the stories, however, bear the mark of a folk tale. As stated in the author's preface, the Icelandic folk tale serves as a "model" for these stories. When approaching the above-mentioned heart of this collection's subject matter, the reader may gradually understand the relevance of its literary style. In fact, the style of these short stories may in a large part be responsible for the collection's novelty. There is a certain historical framework at play in What the Bear Said. Coinciding with the great wave of emigration from the European mainland and Scandinavia in the nineteenth century, it was around 1870 when large groups of Icelanders started to leave their country for North America. In October of 1875, the first large group of Icelandic emigrants arrived on the shores of Lake Winnipeg, the site which became the Icelandic reserve, and which is still referred to as New Iceland. By 1876, in this place which for many had been imagined as the promised land, the newcomers from Iceland already faced several hard facts, one of them being a smallpox epidemic. W. D. Valgardson does not hesitate to revisit the site of broken dreams. One of the short stories is simply titled "Quarantine" (65-71), describing the dire circumstances wherein the Icelandic settlers found themselves. During the epidemic, they were literally cut off from all possible remedy in the new and densely hierarchical society. But can a folk tale serve such a subject matter, some may ask. What is a folk tale? In addition to the historical framework that provides the backdrop for these stories, a certain literary heritage makes itself felt. Icelandic folk tales do not only originate from the Germanic/Northern literary heritage. They have their roots in a longstanding tradition of oral storytelling, a tradition the Icelandic emigrants ferried over the Atlantic Ocean in the nineteenth century, and handed down to their descendants. Like the world's folk tales in general, the Icelandic one fosters a fantastic gallery of "characters," all of which make an appearance in What the Bear Said. Some of them— like the trolls and the so-called hidden people—are singular to the Icelandic tradition. The ghosts and elves are—despite a couple of Icelandic character traits—more universal in both nature and behavior. As stated in the collection's preface, the author of these stories is no stranger to the tradition of oral storytelling. [End Page 267] As a child in Gimli, Manitoba, he was introduced to the way in which people gathered, again and again, around a kitchen table and told stories. What he did not know, is that the stories told tended to incorporate some fragments from Icelandic folk tales. With this fusion of the mundane and the fabulous, of reality and the supernatural, the Gimli-stories remained true to the original Icelandic folk tale. But why would the folk tale serve the subject matter at hand; namely, the vastness of an emigrant's experience? As the reader of this collection of short stories discovers, when confronted with the shortcomings of humanity, and/or society's horrific limits towards its people, the folk tale tends to unveil the very depths of the human being's vulnerability. Simultaneously, the folk tale accommodates the human being's hopeful disposition, and her natural inclinations towards some kind of a force we tend to term supernatural. Given the experience of an emigrant...

Vikings and saints—encounters vestan um haf

This study discusses whether there are reasons to believe that saints’ legends in Ireland and Britain contributed to the import and formation of legends in Norway and Iceland. Church dedications near or within settlement-areas are pointed out, in Orkney/Caithness, the Hebrides, Ireland, Man and Cumbria. In many of these Norse-speaking people had their first encounters with christianity long before it was introduced in Norway by the christian lords and their English missionaries. The point of departure for this survey is the legend of St Sunniva, the earliest saint we know of in the Norwegian and Icelandic tradition of saints. This is the only legend extant of a saint from the colonies in the West. Three of the main features constituting Sunniva’s legend are represented by the legends of Triduana (Tredwell, Trollhøna), Donnán, Mo Nenna, and Bega.

Dreams in Icelandic Tradition

Dreams in Icelandic Tradition

Celtic Elements in Icelandic Tradition

Celtic Elements in Icelandic Tradition

The Wife of Bath's Tale: its Sources and Analogues

Maynadier argues that Chaucer and Gower's loathly lady narratives (the Wife of Bath's Tale and the Tale of Florent) ultimately have an Irish origin and are not directly influenced by the Icelandic tradition. In addition, much of the Arthurian material belongs to a separate strand that diverges from Chaucer and Gower's versions (see 128 for a complete diagram). Gower in all likelihood borrowed his version from a Latin exempla collection such as the Gesta Romanorum (135). Chaucer's tale may have been suggested by Gower's, but since Gower was a completely unoriginal and uninventive poet (6, 134), there cannot be much indebtedness. Maynadier further discusses analogues to Gower's motif of capital punishment for answering a riddle incorrectly (126-27), and he notes that the light in the bridal chamber in the Tale of Florent is also of Irish origin (138). [CvD]