|
. . CREATION The
sacrifice brought about a rebirth of life; the
worshippers renewed their hamingja or luck, and this
renewal implied that the world was created afresh, that
the “usefulness' – benevolence, fertility of nature
– was called into new life. Through the blot this fair
earth with its leaping and flying and growing beings and
the heavens with sun and moon, light and heat were saved
from falling into the hands of the demons and turning
unheore; in the language of myth: the world is won from
the giants, rising fresh and strong out of their death.
It is an obvious conclusion that the Nordic drama
included a creative act, giving birth to the world and
to the clan, or the people, as is the case in other
religions of similar type; this conjecture is justified
by legends that evince a vigorous sense of drama and,
what is more, bear marks of their having been ritually
staged. For our knowledge of the ancient cosmology we
are mainly indebted to the account of Snorri in his Edda;
Snorri evidently worked scattered traditions up into a
comprehensive history of the world, and his version
bears the character of a harmonised text, but upon the
whole the original features of the legends are forcibly
brought out in his reproduction. In
the beginning of time there was no earth and no heaven,
no sea washing a shore, but in the middle a vast abyss,
Ginnungagap. To the north loomed the icy Niflheim where
grim storms raged in the misty darkness; in the middle
of Niflheim the well of Hvergelmir surged and sent out a
multitude of rivers; to the south Muspellheim shone out,
so glowing hot that none but the natives were able to
dwell in it scorching fire. Surt is the guardian of this
land, and his sword is the fierce flame. Before
the gods were born the ice swelled in Ginnungagap; for
raging rivers gushed forth, and in the brooding and
drifting mist over Niflheim the streams congealed like
slag running out of a fire, the ice gathered into heavy
glaciers advancing wave upon wave, and settled into
Ginnungagap. The mists and rain that sagged over the ice
hardened into a cover of rime. But from Muspelheim a hot
wind struck against the ice of Ginnungagap and stood
quivering as the air on a sultry summer day. When the
rime met the heat it melted and dripped living drops,
and the drops took the shape of a man. Thus arose an
immense giant, Ymir, who is called Aurgelmir by the
frost giants. While he was still asleep a perspiration
started all over his body; in his left armpit a man and
a woman grew out, and his right foot begot a son on the
left. From these children of the primeval monster a
brood of giants descended which very soon filled the
world. The
crust of rime still melted and dripped, from the drops a
cow sprang, Audumla, and by her milk Ymir was fed. While
the giant sucked her udders, she licked the salt stones
sticking out of the glacier; in the evening a man's hair
came out of the stone, next day it had grown into a
head, and on the third day the man leapt up and stood
free on the ground. He was handsome, of great statue and
strength, and his name was called Buri. Buri's son Bor
wedded a woman from among the giants and became the
ancestor of the gods: Odin, Vili and Ve. When
the gods grew and gathered strength they slew Ymir, and
his blood flowed in torrents and drowned the world, so
that the whole of his kin perished in the flood. One
only, Bergelmir, climbed for safely upon a lúðr and
was saved along with his wife; the couple gave rise to a
fresh brood of giants, and these compose the race that
sill plays mischief in this world. The gods carried Ymir
into the middle of Ginnungagap and made the earth of his
body; his blood flowed out into rivers and the sea, his
flesh became land, his bones mountains, his teeth and
broken bones were scattered as boulders and pebbles. The
gods led the waters forth until they flowed all round
the earth in a ring, and thus they fortified the abode
of gods and men with the great ocean. They raised Ymir's
skull above the earth and made from it the roof of
heaven, and they placed a dwarf to guard each of the
corners, east and west and north and south; under heaven
the brain of Ymir is drifting, and that is the reason
why the clouds are cold and grim like giants' thoughts. The
sparks which originated in Muspelheim and whirled in the
air were placed in the sky to give light to the earth.
The gods ordained a fixed course to all the heavenly
bodies and made them advance in regular order as day
succeeds day and year follows year. Thus
it came about that the earth rests in the midst of the
deep sea. On the rim of the ocean the gods settled the
giants, but in the middle of the earth they hallowed a
land and surrounded it with the eyebrows of Ymir for a
wall, and this enclosure was called Middle-garth, the
abode of men. This
account is supplemented by a verse in Vaf. (29) adding
the names of the successive generations of giants:
Aurgelmir, Thrudgelmir and Bergelmir. This
graphic description of primeval history, when the
inhabitable earth grew into shape through the contending
forces of heat and cold, represents the Northern view of
nature; the men who formed these legends had the roar of
the ocean in their ears, they had felt, too, the forlorn
bleakness of the fells and the cold gusts sweeping down
from the glaciers. Their conception of the forces at
work in the world does not, however, originate in
abstract speculation, neither does it issue from vague
floating theories of a hypothetical state of things;
whether the cosmological view of the world includes an
element of speculation or not, it settles and clarifies
into images drawn from the drama and from the
sacrificial place. The illustration in S E of the
glaciers advancing like the slag flowing from the fire
is certainly not due to the stylistic ingenuity of
Snorri; the trait goes back to the legends on which he
moulded his literary exposition. In fact, it is more
than probable that the observation that gave rise to
Snorri's elucidating simile lies at the very root of
Norwegian cosmological speculation. In the placing of
Hvergelmir as the centre of Niflheim there is a
precision of statement that not only suggests a dramatic
picture, but directly reveals an interplay between
ritual experience and cosmological speculation as to the
forces at play in the elements of the world. In fact,
the legend is created by a man who had seen the
consolidating forces of fire and water at work in
shaping the world. The
centre of the creative episode of the drama is found in
the fire and the sacrificial kettles. Ymir's death is an
ancient sacrificial myth that reads like the programme
of a creation play; the wording of the legend still
bears the impress of its dramatic setting: the gods
carried Ymir to Ginnungagap and placed him in the middle
of the vast abyss. If we were not left in ignorance
regarding the meaning of the names borne by the primeval
giants: Bergelmir, Thrudgelmir and Aurgelmir, the
features of the ritual act would stand out in higher
relief; as it is, we must rest content with a general
statement of a symbolical creation ceremony implicit in
the cutting up of the victim and its preparation for
being cooked. One
single scene appertaining to this drama is still left
standing among the débris of mythology, viz, the
myth of Bergelmir, which alludes to an incident in the
birth of the waters; but unfortunately it is worded in
too concise and obscure a form for us to be able to
complete the picture. In Vaf. 35 the giant is introduced
saying: “the first thing I remember is Bergelmir being
born and placed on a lúðr”; this verse
evidently reproduces a ritual act of dramatic import,
but unfortunately the explanation hinges upon a word of
unknown significance. In the Grottasong lúðr means
a quern box; like the Darrad Song (cf. here II 220-1)
this poem is a free composition inspired by a ceremonial
scene: the ritual drama that “ground” wealth and
luck for the king. In a scaldic poem a kenning combining
lúðr with the word of malt designates the
brewing vat (see Lex. Poet. s. v. lúðr). Further
lúðr occurs in a formula used to ensure fair
weather on sea (Gróg. 11): "gögn — luck,
probably sacrificial luck (cf. Thorsdr. 21) — and
sacrificial fluid may enter into an advantageous
combination for your benefit and procure a peaceful
journey”. The upshot of a comparative examination is
that several sacrificial vessels were designated by the
term lúðr, and we are left in ignorance of its
character in the story of Bergelmir. These
stray reminiscences throw a fresh light on the
description in the Vsp. of the earliest times. The
opening verses lead straight into the hall at the moment
when the creative drama is produced: “At the distant
time when Ymir lived, there was neither sea nor sandy
coast breaking cool waves, no earth, no heaven above,
only Ginnungagap where no blade of grass sprouted until
the sons of Bur lifted the land and made the fair
Middle-garth; the sun shone from the south on the stones
of the hall, and the earth was clothed in green
herbs”. This raising of the land, the growth of the
soil, was probably represented by ritual handling of the
cult implements and the body of the victim, by minute
gestures and movements of the hand and other symbolic
operations, some of which are still discernible; we know
from the Grimnismál 42 that the lifting of the kettles
off the fire entered into the drama as a creative act:
“then the worlds open before the gods, as a new-won
possession” (v. infra p. 294). Though the Vsp.
cannot add to our knowledge regarding the sequence and
character of the ceremonies, its verses introduce us to
the scene and setting of the drama; the hall is the
world, as the roof of the house is the sky in the scene
of the Thorsdrapa; the first rays of the sun strike the
flagstones of the sacrificial place. In the description
of the earth or land Vsp. makes use of a poetical term, bjöð,
probably of ritual origin, which to the worshippers
conveyed the vividness of the scene when earth appeared
and settled into its place. According
to the Vsp. the creation of the world is succeeded by a
scene in which an erratic chaos of heavenly bodies was
reduced to fixed order and rhythmic motion. At first sun
and moon had no luck and megin (cf. I 249) and wandered
vaguely about the heavens, until the gods shaped their
courses and ordained them to regulate years and days; v.
6 exposes the ritual in plain words: “The gods went to
their seats of council and gave names to night and
moon-less dark, to morning and noon, afternoon and
evening, for the numbering of years”. Creation
is brought to conclusion by the birth of man, the rise
of the clan. Three gods found Ask and Embla on the land,
beings that had as yet no luck and no destiny or
purpose. Odin gave breath, Hoenir mind, Lodur warm blood
and hue: litr, luck and strength (cf. II 235);
thus the men grew from fate-less beings into men of
honour whose life had a purpose and an aim. This
description is throughout reminiscent of the drama; in
his introduction of the three gods the poet makes use of
a suggestive expression: “three came from that
assembly, powerful and gracious” (v. 17); we need no
great effort of imagination to see three officiating
sacrificers proceeding from the body of worshippers to
perform their sacred task. Another
rite suggestive of a hieros gamos is repeatedly
hinted at, but never worked out in clear outlines, cf.
Lokas. 26 and infra p. 337. |
