Hávamál

 

 

verses 79-96, Introduction to Óđins love stories [present state: verses 81 and 84]

 

81.

ON Text and its word-for-word pseudo English translation

 

At kveldi skal dag leyfa,         In the evening will the day be praised, [Latin: vespere laudari debet amoena dies]

konu, er brennd er,                a woman, who burnt ist,

mćki, er reyndr er,                a sword, which tried is,

mey, er gefin er,                     a maid, who(se hand) is given,

ís, er yfir kemr,                       ice, which upon he walks,

öl, er drukkit er.                     bier, that drunk is.

 

[A day must be praised in the evening, a woman who is burnt, a sword that is tried, a maid who is ‘promised’ (to marriage), the ice on which he walks, bier that is drunk.]

 

 

Bellows’ translation:

 

81. Give praise to the day at evening, | to a woman on her pyre,
To a weapon which is tried, | to a maid at wed lock,
To ice when it is crossed, | to ale that is drunk.

 

[81. With this stanza the verse-form, as indicated in the translation, abruptly changes to Malahattr. What has happened seems to have been something like this. Stanza 80 introduces the idea of man's love for woman. Consequently some reciter or compiler (or possibly even a copyist) took occasion to insert at this point certain stanzas concerning the ways of women. Thus stanza 80 would account for the introduction of stanzas 81 and 82, which, in turn, apparently drew stanza 83 in with them. Stanza 84 suggests the fickleness of women, and is immediately followed--again with a change of verse-form--by a list of things equally untrustworthy (stanzas 85-90). Then, after a few more stanzas on love in the regular measure of the Hovamol (stanza 91-9s), is introduced, by way of illustration, Othin's story of his [fp. 46] adventure with Billing's daughter (stanzas 96-102). Some such process of growth, whatever its specific stages may have been, must be assumed to account for the curious chaos of the whole passage from stanza 81 to stanza 102.]

 

Commentaries

 

As we have already seen, the experts have put a lot of attention in finding all kind of possible influences on Hávamál. In this very case, the Latin influence is undisputable (see below my comment to Evan’s). Evans citing a 12th c. influence falls into the trap of detecting Middle Ages ones while a much more ancient one is obvious. It proves to me that, considering the huge effort done for finding Middle Age (‘thus’ Christian) influence on Hávamál, considering the general failure of this hypothesis, it is now safe to claim that Hávamál is a genuine image of the early Northern world. That it received Latin and Greek influences is simply obvious. This verse, among others, shows how they have been adapted to the Northern way of life.

 

The point of a “burnt woman” deserves some comments.

At first, note that all experts carefully underline the obvious, that the poem has thus not been composed in Iceland. Why do they forget to add that it proves also that the poem cannot be composed say, after the 10th century, again rejecting any Middle Age influence?

A deeper question comes from that we know about important men being burned, possibly with their female slaves. Does the poem allude to these slaves? This is contradicted by the use of the word kona which points at a mature woman or a wife (a wife in the Northern civilization, not in a Latin influenced one!), hence to a free and responsible woman. The only possible conclusion is that our poem speaks of an important woman since her corpse is treated in the same way as important men’s corpses. A chief, be him/her male or female, is always a person nobody with some pride should praise overtly. In everyday life, Hávamál recommends to each man to be careful in praising too loudly his húsfreyja, his house-goddess, unless she may be spoiled, as any other chief is by an excess of praise.

In the line about ice, note that ‘kemr’ is in another verbal tense than the verb in the other lines. We walk on the ice in order to check if it is safe. Anyone knows this is a treacherous ground.

I do not see what precisely means the last line. Does it mean you should not boast of your good beer to avoid sharing it? Does it mean that home-made beer could make you sick? My best guess is that the verb ‘to drink’ means here ‘to drink one sip’.

 

 

Evans’ Commentaries

 

81

            See p. 23  above [YK: here see below] for suggestions that the málaháttr strophes [YK : this is one of the scaldic poetical forms] beginning here might have some connection with the MHG poetic form known as thePriamel’, and that the suspicion of women which they sporadically express may derive less from Nordic antiquity than from the Christian Middle Ages.

            1 For the sentiment cp. Möttuls saga (ed. G. Cederschiöld and F.-A. Wulff, LUA 1877, 22): at kveldi er dagr lofandi and the twelfth-century Ysengrimus III 594: vespere laudari debet amoena dies. Singer 150-51, who cites numerous Continental parallels, thinks the notion is of German origin, borrowed by the Norsemen at an early date.

 

[The Latin sentence : vespere laudari debet amoena dies  means “In the evening must be judged a pleasant day.” This traditional Latin way of speech had a frequent later use, and Ysengrimus is nothing but one example of it. You can find it translated in several metaphorical ways, such as : “Out of beautiful grapes, often comes poor wine.” or “Beautiful maiden make old mothers.” or “Morning laugh means evening tears.”

 

Page 23 :

 

Before leaving the Gnomic Poem, a few words should be said about the eighteen or so strophes that precede the tale of Óđinn and Billings mćr, which begins, properly speaking, at 96. Whether any of these strophes are to be regarded as part of the Gnomic Poem is, as already remarked, obscure; the theme of sexual love, which is fairly prominent in them, has not previously been touched on in the poem, and there is something to be said for the opinion that their view of woman as faithless and deceitful (note especially st. 84) is alien to the pagan Nordic tradition and reflects the misogynist attitudes of medieval Christianity; this would suggest that they are of later origin than the Gnomic Poem. The strophes in málaháttr (81-3, 85-7, 89-90), with their lists of things to do and things to beware of, are reminiscent of the medieval German genre known as the Priamel and have for this reason sometimes been regarded as of foreign inspiration. The German Priamel itself, however, appears to belong to the very end of the Middle Ages, so it can hardly be the direct source of the form in Norse, and so elementary a poetic mode as a list could arise spontaneously in many different cultures. The emphasis on the untrustworthiness of things has been taken by von See as a Christian theme, ‘die Unsicherheit alles Irdischen’ (4, 99) [YK: the uncertainty of anything earthly], thus linking Hávamál yet again with the learned-Biblical tradition of the Middle Ages. (13)  But mutability becomes a Christian theme only when it is brought into contrast with the security and permanence of Heaven; von See has achieved this contrast by inserting the word Irdischen [YK: earthly], but there is no warrant for this in the text of the poem. It is going rather far  to claim that a piece of advice like ‘Don't praise ale until you have drunk it’ (81) implants the Christian moral of the transience and unreliability of this poor fleeting life! (This very strophe, as a matter of fact, contains a pagan allusion in what is manifestly a reference to cremation.) As in the Gnomic Poem, the scene implied is Norwegian, or at any rate non-Icelandic: besides the cremation, note the wolf (85), the snake, the bear and the king (86), and the reindeer (90).

 

13 This view consorts uneasily with von See's belief (I, 28-9) that 89/7-8 influenced Egill's Sonatorrek (so also, independently, Einar Ol. Sveinsson 2, 299 note 2). If this is right, these lines must be older than c. 960.

 

 

84.

ON Text and its word-for-word pseudo English translation

 

 

Meyjar orđum                        Of a maid the words

skyli manngi trúa                    should no man have confidence

né ţví, er kveđr kona,             nor what, is to say [or sing, recite] a wife,

[No man should believe a maid’s words not to what says (or sings or recites) a wife,]

ţví at á hverfanda hvéli          because on a turning wheel

váru ţeim hjörtu sköpuđ,       were to them hearts created [or shaped]

brigđ í brjóst of lagiđ.             breach [or even, protest] in the [their] breast is lying

[since their hearts have been shaped on a turning wheel, breach (or protest) lies in their breast.]

 

Bellows’ translation

 

84. A man shall trust not | the oath of a maid,
Nor the word a woman speaks;
For their hearts on a whirling | wheel were fashioned,
And fickle their breasts were formed.

 

Commentary about the vocabulary

 

It should be obvious that reading Hávamál is not specially a manly thing, and women-insulting interpretations should be carefully examined. Bellows’ translation shows perfectly well how a single word, fickle instead of ‘breach’, certainly started the legend that: “Hávamál claims that women are fickle.”

 

Line 3 : kveđr. The verb kveđa carries no hint at magic. It can also mean ‘to recite a poem’. In the saga when a character wishes to recite his/her own poem, the saga says “Character kvađ … (Character declaimed …)”.

Line 6 : brigđ. This word does by itself mean fickleness. It needs a companion word to do so. For instance, vináttu-brigđ = friendship-breach = fickleness.

 

Commentary about the meaning

 

- On the first three lines

 

They clearly state that, whatever her age might be, you (men and women) cannot rely on a woman’s word, and the last ones explain why it is so. Take care that it does not specify anything about a ‘sworn word’ or an agreed upon contract. This only concerns ‘normal speech’.

 

- On the last three lines

 

Evans indicates that modern Icelandic uses á hverfanda hveli is the normal way to speak of an unstable state. Item, Gretti’s saga citation points at an extremely unstable situation since his life is the one an ever fleeing one. Does it means that the poem suggest that  a woman’s heart has been shaped in an unstable situation? Would that be information providing? I thus believe that the potter's wheel image is quite reasonable, as long as it is looked upon as a simple image that does not try to contradict the idea that Ask and Embla have been creaetd together, and in the same way. Why this image would speak of a typically womanish fickleness? This last statement is typical of Christian Middle Age thinking. We already have seen that Evans already scorned a supposed biblical influence on Hávamál. Why would this become acceptable when it speaks of women? I have thus several other hypotheses to propose

-          Possible but somewhat trivial/stupid of is the one of a continuation of the ‘potery image’: potery breaks easily, so do women.

-          The word brigđ may also mean ‘protest’ and it makes sense here. This would mean that the typical woman tends to be fast protesting, that is she is easy to get angry and, once she made her mind on breaking a relationship, she is very steady on this decision? I am not sure this is a real difference between men and women. This is, however, a possible way for entering the deadly terrain of the differences between men and women. At least, it is not insulting to women, which would be opposed to the whole of ancient Germanic tradition.

-          Another hypothesis is that Hávamál alludes to the many kennings for ‘woman’ that describes her as richness carrier or source. We shall see in verse 78 that richness is explicitly called fickle. Therefore, as a richness representative, woman can be said to be ‘fickle’ without falling in the Middle Age prejudices.

 

Evans’ Commentaries

 

84

          4 á hverfanda hvélion a turning wheel'; very possibly the reference is to a potter's wheel (see Meringer 455). However, in Alvíssmál 14 hverfanda hvél is given as a name for the moon, and CPB 483 suggests that this is the sense here too ('women's hearts are shifty as phases of the moon'), a notion recently revived by Kristján Albertsson. But this seems less probable, especially in view of the occurrence of the expression elsewhere, e.g. Grettis saga ch. 42 ( IF VII 138): En til Grettis kann ek ekki at leggja, ţví at mér pykkir á mjök hverfanda hjóli (v.1. hvéli) um hans hagi. [Note YK: This means I have nothing to propose about Grettir, for all his doings seem to be at the mercy of the turning wheel.”]°The phrase á hverfanda hveli is common in modern Icelandic, to denote something unstable and fickle; Halldór Halldórsson 7-12 thinks it derives from a fusion of the expression in our poem with the medieval notion of the wheel of fortune. This fusion appears already in Flat. I 93: er med řngu móti treystanda á hennar (fortune's) hverfanda hvél.

          4-6 (omitting ţví at) are cited in Fóstbroeđra saga ch. 21 (IF VI 225); see p. 2 above [Here, see below]. The mss of the saga show a few verbal discrepancies: Flateyjarbók has eru for váru, R reads 5 as er peim hjarta skapat, both add ok before brigđ, and Hauksbók omits um.

            In this strophe, as in 81 above and 90 below, we meet the concept of the fickle, deceptive woman so much exemplified in medieval Continental proverb lore (cp. Singer 15ff., who derives the sentiments from medieval clerical misogyny).

 

Relevant part of p. 2 in Evan’s introduction

 

Further, the second half of st. 84 is cited in Fóstbrćđra saga ch. 21 (IF VI 225) where it is said of a thrall in Greenland who suspects his mistress of infidelity kom honum ţá í hug kviđlingr sá, er kveđinn hafđi verit um lausungarkonur and then the lines follow. This part of Fóstbrćđra saga is extant in two mss from the fourteenth century and in later copies of what is thought to have been another fourteenth-century ms. It is worth noting that neither the Prose Edda nor Fóstbrćđra saga attributes these quotations to a poem called Hávamál, which is indeed not named in any Old Norse document apart from CR itself. Lastly, it should be mentioned that chapters 6 and 7 of Ynglinga saga (in Snorri's Heimskringla) contain manifest echoes of st. 148 and some of the following strophes, showing that Snorri must have known this part (at least) of the poem; and in one place Snorri's wording helpful in establishing the correct text (see the Commentary).

 

Commentaries about the “turning wheel”

 

 

Look at the pictures below. My own conclusion is as follows : before the Middle Ages the wheel is associated to destiny, not to fickleness. In the Northern tradition, somewhat opposed to the Greek and Latin ones, destiny is associated to the Norns (for humankind) and to each one’s Hamingja (for individuals). All of them are not looked upon as unstable. Dangerous, powerful, even cataclysmic are possible epithets for Destiny, fickle is not.

In Celtic or Germanic mythologies the burning wheels honor a change, a regular an expected one, not a fickle one;

As for Greeks and Romans, the Goddess Tyche / Fortuna is almost shown as carrying a horn of plenty. Nemesis is said to be a Goddess of revenge and she only seems to be associated to destiny and she is associated to a wheel.

Hence my conclusion. Here are the documents:

 

Below: Destiny, Pompei version

 

Thanks to:

http://www.convivialiteenflandre.org/index.php?option=com_content&view=article&id=259:2e-citation-latine-2009-cr-vinci-hals&catid=38:citation-et-uvre-dart

 

This not at all a Fortuna. A structure seems to rest on the attributes of poverty (right), of royalty (left) and (center) a skull – death - , a butterfly – a dead one’s soul - ands a wheel. - ? -.

 

Below: Némésis. Antique version.

 

 

Thanks to wikipedia

 

Below: Némésis. Renaissance version

Thanks to:

http://www.albrecht-durer.org/Nemesis-large.html

 

 

 

I could also gather these two images, no explanation, no dating, in an old book treating about the religious images of antique Greece and Rome