Grímnismál
The Sayings of Grimnir

It has been suggested that Grimnismál is one of the oldest poems in the collection, and it may well have been such in its original form, for there is a grand simplicity in expression and an absence of any seemingly borrowed ideas.

It touches only on the main features of Old Norse mythology, and has no knowledge of later stories which grew up around the separate gods and goddesses, and which form such frequent subjects of allusion by the poets, supplying them with a wealth of obscure poetical imagery.

But the confused arrangement, which we have altered only for the sake of giving more sequence to the ideas, and such details as those which surround the original conception of the World Tree, suggest revision and interpolation, and give ground for the supposition that the poem as it stands is of late origin, and an attempt to revive a belief in the old religion is by the teaching of old myths.

The setting of the poem, too, bears the mark of a different and more skilful hand. It is wonderfully dramatic in contrast to the quiet rehearsal of old-world knowledge and traditional lore. Odin and Frigg appear first as humble peasants, who give shelter to the sons of a certain King Hraudung. Next the Sky god is pictured in Heaven, sitting on his throne of Window-shelf, from whence he can view all the worlds. “Odin,” says Snorri, “is highest and first born among gods. He rules over all things, and the other gods, however mighty, serve him as children serve their father.” Beside him is Frigg, his wife, who is also a power of the sky, and perhaps the ruler of the clouds. The scene changes, and Odin is found once more upon earth as a stranger at Geirröd’s doors. He appears in the form best known to men—grey-bearded, and clad in blue mantle and broad-brimmed hat, but he is unrecognised by Geirröd. Here the poem opens with the tortured god sitting between the fierce heat of two fires, craving for one draught of water from Agnar’s hands to cool his parched lips before he can answer the questions of his tormentors concerning the secret and holy places of the world. From time to time the narrative is broken by a cry from the god—to his faithful Valkyries, who even now bear refreshing ale to the Chosen warriors in Valhöll—to his kinsmen who are assembling, as was their wont, to drink in the sea halls of Ægir. How he is at last delivered from his painful situation is left uncertain, owing to the obscurity of sts. 42 and 45.

To a like skilful hand belong the magnificent strophes in which Grimnir reveals himself to Geirröd as Odin, the highest god; where the poet shows him as the One, who in different ages and for different beings has many aspects and many names. In his character as Heaven god, he is Odin, Wafter, Tree-rocker, Wind-roar; as ruler in Asgarth, they call him the High One, Equal-ranked, Third Highest. He is the life and source of all things—the Maker, the All-father. He rules the World as the Watcher from Window-shelf. He comes forth from Valhöll as the Death-father, and goes to battle as War-father, Host-leader, Helm-bearer. To evil giants he appears as the Dread One, Bale-worker, Flashing-eyed, Flaming-eyed. Both gods and men know the Wanderer, Grey-beard, Long-beard, Broad-hat. As Well-comer he has many a love adventure; as Hoodwinker, Form-changer, Wizard, he is the great master of magic. He is moreover the god of culture, the Sage and Wise One, the Counsellor or Poet who has won the Song-mead, and even bestowed the gift of poesy upon men. This glorious monotheistic hymn reminds us of some Indian poet singing of Krishna, “countless mystic forms unfolding in one Form.” In such Protean fashion the supreme god of every mythology has the right to change his shape, and assume the powers and attributes of lesser beings. It is unusual, however, for an old Northern mythologist to show such appreciation of this truth. He is usually content with presenting a god now in this light, now in that, and each of the different poems which relate to Odin will reveal him more fully in some one of the above characters. Here the “Masked One” has veiled his god-head and suffered torment in order to instruct and enlighten mankind.

Grimnir begins his recital of old lore by enumerating the homes of the gods, which usually correspond with the characters of their owners. All the principal deities are mentioned except Frigg, who, as we are told elsewhere, has her dwelling in the “Halls of Moisture,” where perhaps she rules the clouds. Loki also is omitted, for the airy fire demon had no resting place until he was bound in the underworld.

Odin is here the War-father, who shows the true Viking spirit of an old Norse hero. His home is Valhöll, the Hall of the Slain, described in sts. 8–10, 20–24. It is seen from afar, standing high in Asgarth, overshadowed by Yggdrasil, and surrounded by the air river Thund, which roars and thunders when the dead are brought through by the Valkyries. This dwelling is reserved for the chosen sons of Odin who have been slain in strife; other dead folk pass to the underworld of Hel. Snorri says, drawing his information mainly from this passage and other extant poems, “all the warriors who have fallen in battle since the beginning of the world come to Odin in Valhöll. A great host is there assembled, and more shall gather; yet they will seem too few when Fenrir, the Wolf, is let loose at Ragnarök, the Doom of the gods. They have for food the flesh of a sooty-black boar called Sæhrimnir, which will never be consumed, however great the throng in Valhöll. Each day he is boiled in Eldhrimnir (the fire-smoked cauldron) by Andhrimnir (the sooty-faced cook), and every evening he becomes whole again. But Odin partakes not of the same food as his Chosen Warriors. He gives the portion from his table to two wolves, Greed and Ravener, for he himself needs no food, but wine is his meat and drink. Two ravens sit perched on his shoulder, and whisper to him tidings of what they have seen and heard. Thought and Memory are their names. He sends them flying each day over all the world, and at breakfast-time they return. Thus he is made aware of the things which come to pass, and is called by mortals the Raven god. The Chosen Warriors have a drink which, like their food, is never failing; but they drink not water, for how should All-father bid kings and earls and other mighty men to his halls and give them nought but water ? A great price would it seem to those who had suffered wounds and death to get such a draught for their pains. But there stands a she-goat called Heidrun over the roof of Valhöll, biting leaves from the Shelterer’s boughs. Mead flows from her teats into a vessel so huge that all the Chosen Warriors can drink their fill. When they are not drinking they hold sport. Each morning they put on their war-gear and take their weapons, and go forth into the court-yard and there fight and lay one another low, and play thus till breakfast-time, when they go back and sit them down to drink.” These daily conflicts, it would seem, are but a preparation for the last great conflict at Ragnarök. Valhöll as a paradise is the ideal of the West in contrast to that of the East. It is no home of rest, but one of conflict and strenuous endeavour, where the warriors fight on higher planes the same battles that they fought upon earth, still with the same hope of achievement and honour, still with a delight in the struggle itself, which is never finished. Even the alternating periods of bliss have no resemblance to the passive Nirvana state, but are like the ale which the Old Norsemen drank at their revels, deep and intoxicating draughts of active material enjoyment.

In st. 7 Odin, as husband of Saga the seeress, is a god of wisdom, and perhaps the by-name which we omitted, Hrópt, the One who Utters, was used with intent. But the story attached to it is unknown. It is perhaps only another version of the Mimir myth, where the god draws his wisdom from sacred waters (p. 287). Full of pictorial beauty is the scene of Odin and Saga drinking peacefully from the fount of knowledge.

Three sons of Odin are mentioned: Thor (st. 4), who, as wielder of the great thunder-hammer, owns the Home of Strength; Vidar (st. 17), called by Snorri “the silent god,” who lives in wild Wood-home; and Baldr (st. 12), whose dwelling-place is fair and shining as his face, and pure as the heart of him who is the best and the most loved of all the gods.

Two gods, Ull and Forseti (sts. 5 and 15), play little part in Old Norse mythology, but were well known among other Germanic tribes. Ull, as the great archer, owns the land of yew-trees which were used for making bows. He is called Ollerus by Saxo, and is said to have been given both the name and kingdom of Odin when the latter was banished for practising magic. Forseti is the son of Baldr and Nanna. His cult may be traced among the Frisians. In Heligoland, which is called by Latin writers “Forsiti’s land,” the god had his temple and holy places, and the people told legends of a culture hero, sprung from the gods, who came once and taught them justice and “Frisian right.”

The owner of Vala-shelf (st. 6) is not clearly indicated.

Many obscure myths have attached themselves to the name of Heimdal, who was primarily a god of light. As such “he is warder of the gods, and sits at the end of heaven to guard the bridge Bifröst against the giants.” Loki taunts him with this arduous life (p. 263), but he had also his pleasant home of Heaven-hill. Frey and Freyja, with their father Njörd, belong to the gentler tribe of gods called Wanes (Vanir), distinguished from the war-gods, or Æsir. Frey (st. 5), as god of summer fruitfulness, dwells in a home of sunshine among the elves. Freyja (st. 14), who has here assumed the powers of Frigg, rules in Folk-field; while Njörd, the peaceful sea-god, has made his home in Noatun beside the ocean.

One dwelling-place, Sound-home (st. 11), is not found in Asgarth, the gods’ realm, but in Jötunheim, or Giant-land, which is always associated with the stirring, sounding elements of nature. The famous story of Thiazi and his daughter Skadi is given later on.

After describing his own home and the joyous life there, Grimnir, tortured by fierce heat, calls to mind the cool, rushing waters which flow from Roaring Kettle, the central fountain of the world, which brings him to the holiest of all places, the Doomstead of the gods, where they assemble daily to hold council and judgment. Here also are two other fountains—the well of Mimir, whence Odin draws his wisdom, and the well of Weird, with the Norns who dwell beside it shaping the lives of men. Overhead rises the World-tree Yggdrasil, which Grimnir has just called by the name which in his torment most appealed to him—the Shelterer. He remembers now its sufferings: the fair, green boughs which stretch over the heavens, and whence fall the dews of life, are being gnawed by spiteful harts; the roots, springing no man knows how deep, are torn by the fierce dragon of the underworld; and the mighty stem which rises like the central column of the universe, rots and suffers from decay. In all ages and among many peoples has been traced this reverence for a tree—first, as the embodiment of the tree-spirit, the home of vegetative life; and, lastly, as typifying the source of spiritual life. Yggdrasil is sometimes the World Tree, which embraces the Universe of space and time. Here, behind the poetic fancies, which are peculiar to Old Norse mythology, it stands in grand outlines as the symbol of all creation—groaning and travailing together in death, but quickened and renewed with never-failing life.

A well-ordered scheme of Old Norse cosmology meets with a difficulty in st. 31. The realms of Hel, of Jötunheim, and of mankind, which lie beneath the three roots of Yggdrasil, are there clearly conceived as on one level and bordering on each other, but elsewhere (pp. 240, 291) Hel is stated to be underground. Other passages suggest that there was a confusion between an old Germanic idea of Hel situated beneath the earth and the Scandinavian notion of Hel and Jötunheim in the bleak and terrible regions of the north and east, divided from Midgarth, the home of men, and Asgarth, the home of gods, by great rivers which flowed from Roaring Kettle.

It is now that Odin (st. 36) cries aloud to his war-maidens, the Valkyries. They are Choosers of the Slain, winged beings who attend the conflict, who slay the “fey” or doomed ones, and bring them to Odin’s hall. A song worthy of these battle-maidens is given to them in Njáls Saga:—

Let us wind, let us wind the web of darts!
fare we forth to wade through the host
where our friends are crossing weapons.
Let us wind, let us wind the web of darts
where the banners of the warriors are streaming!

And thus weaving the web of war, they foretell who shall stand and who shall fall on the bloody field. Their more peaceful office is to serve the Chosen Warriors at their feast in Valhöll.

Grimnir then resumes his narrative. Still craving for coolness and shelter from the burning heat, he tells of the weary Sun horses, refreshed in their labours by a delicious chill which is given by the gods to lighten their toil; of earth, protected by a mysterious shadow-maker whose nature is unknown; of Sun herself, “who fares swiftly as one in fear,” but has a home of refuge where she may hide herself from her tormentor, the grim wolf Sköll.

The next strophes which recount the creation of the world are best considered as the Words of the Mighty Weaver, where they are also found (p. 47). 43 and 44 have little bearing on the context. The story of the Wielder’s sons is famous in Old Norse mythology, and a frequent topic of allusion. Snorri relates how Loki, the mischief-maker, had once cut off the golden hair of Sif, the Thunderer’s wife, and to appease the latter had gone down to the dwarfs race called Dark elves, the Wielder’s sons, and persuaded them to forge her a wig of gold. They made this with other treasures so wonderful that Loki, never weary of stirring up strife, wagered his head with two dwarfs called Brokk the Badger and Sindri the Sparkler that they would not make aught as fine. Thereupon the twain set to work and forged three treasures, although Loki sought to hinder them, and changed himself into a fly, which settled upon Brokk and stung him as he was blowing the furnace. When all were complete Loki and the dwarfs brought the treasures to Asgarth to settle the wager, and “the gods went to their thrones of doom to hear the judgment of Odin, Thor, and Frey, which none could gainsay.”

The work of the Dark elves was first set forth, and to Odin Loki gave Gungnir, the spear which never failed to hit the mark; and to Thor the golden hair for Sif, “which would grow into the flesh as soon as it was placed upon her head;” and to Frey the ship Skidbladnir, “which was followed by a fair wind when the sails were set wheresoever it went. It was so huge that all the gods could find room in it with their weapons and war gear, and yet one could fold it up like a cloth and put it in one’s pocket.” Then Brokk brought out his treasures, and gave to Odin the ring called Draupnir, saying that eight rings would drop from it every ninth night; to Frey he gave the Boar which could run through air and sea, by night and day, swifter than any steed, for never was night so dark nor the underworld so murk but there was light enough to go on from the gleaming of its golden bristles. But the hammer which was called Mjöllnir, Brokk gave to Thor, and told him that he might strike with it as hard as he willed, no matter what lay before him, and the hammer would not fail; that if he hurled it away it would never miss the mark, nor fly so far but he would find it there when he felt with his hand; moreover that it would become so small that he could hide it if he liked in his bosom. There was but one flaw in the hammer; it was somewhat short in the handle. Then the gods gave judgment that Mjöllnir was the best of all treasures, and the mightiest weapon of defence against the Frost giants.

Perhaps Meyers is right in tracing an Indo-Germanic myth in this tradition of the dwarf forgers; they were, like the Cyclopes of Greek mythology and the air beings of the Vedas, personifications of natural forces, who wrought weapons to aid the gods in subduing the ruder and more hostile powers. Most precious in each case was the thunder-hammer or thunder-bolt.

Bifröst (st. 44) is a bridge between heaven and earth, which, Snorri says, is woven out of the colour of the rainbow. Its name signifies the “trembling way,” from its nature as light. It will scarce bear Thor, and must be broken at Ragnarök. Sleipnir, Odin’s eight-footed steed, is seen in Balder’s Draumar; Bragi, the mythical poet, at the great banquet scene of Lokasenna; Garm, the Hel hound, with his loud baying, announces Doom to the gods. This strophe sounds like a conventional Song of Saws with which Grimnir ends his recital.