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3.98 AVERAGE
3.98 AVERAGE
informative
Oef, het is volbracht. Ik wilde dit heel mooi vinden, want ik houd van oude epiek en van Noordse mythologie, maar het viel niet mee. Om de goeie verhalen over goden en helden te vinden moet je door een moeras aan voorbeelden heen waden waarmee Snorri de dichtkunst onderwijst. Paginas vol met passages als 'hoe moet je naar goud verwijzen? Als vuur van de zee, het merk van Frodo, het strooisel van de staak' etc, etc. Met dan voorbeelden waarin driedubbele metaforen worden gebruikt. In plaats van 'de held draagt een helm en de koning zwaait met het zwaard in zijn hand' staat er dan 'De voortreffelijke bedekt de heuvel van het huis van het brein met een slagzwijn en de verdeler van het goud zwaait met de oorlogsvis in de roest van de havik.' Vermoeiend. In de categorie, mooier om gelezen te hebben dan om te lezen. Misschien dat de poëtische Edda leuker is dan deze proza Edda.
adventurous
informative
medium-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
N/A
Strong character development:
N/A
Loveable characters:
N/A
Diverse cast of characters:
Yes
Flaws of characters a main focus:
N/A
There is not so much to say about this. I enjoyed finally reading the "original" of the Norse myths that I had read before in dozens of different versions. The Edda also gives you a huge insight in medieval Scandinavia, you learn a lot about their lives, beliefs and language.
A very interesting read, and I go back to it time and time again for references to old Norse gods and stories.
I feel sort of wretched giving this excellent translation of the Prose Edda anything less than a perfect score, but...I can't do that. The Edda is simply not built for the kind of enjoyment or stimulation that even its cousins the Sagas are. What Snorri Sturluson was writing here is a textbook for skalds (medieval Icelandic poets) and as such most of it is devoted to endless enumerations of the many kennings and alternate names for the Aesir, kings, heroes, men, women, weapons, oceans, and on and on. The opening section, Gylfaginning, is an explanation of the Norse pantheon and some of those gods stories, which is much more fun than the thesaurus-like sections later on. But even that is framed as a Socratic dialogue that robs the events of narrative drive, which is too bad. I'd still recommend this to people truly interested in the culture and religion of the Old North, but far behind the Sagas and Poetic Edda.
The historical figures and mythological structure of the cosmos found in the Prose Edda existed in an oral tradition and skaldic poems long before an Icelandic nobleman named Snorri purportedly decided to put them down on paper. Much of the poetry concerning the Norse gods is sadly lost as a consequence of that tradition.
Snorri's work is an obvious attempt to preserve some of what was lost and promote the continuation of a poetic tradition that had begun to fade by the 13th century in the face of Christianity, the last bastions of a heathen pantheon of northern Europe making a last stand in Scandanavia. Faced with the spread of Christianity and its Bible, Snorri observed his people had no solid theological work upon which to fall back on as a resource, and thus composed what is known as the Prose Edda.
God + Giant = Horse + Spider (Sleipnir). Only in mythology.
The Prose Edda is generally composed of a Prologue and three parts:
Gylfaginning
The largest portion is given to the Gylfaginning, and serves as the meat of the Nordic cosmic history. It involves the travel of a Scandanavian king, Gylfi, disguised as Gangleri, to visit Odin, who likewise disguises himself as three kings (it seems to be a theme amongst gods to disguise themselves simply because they can), and inquire about the nature of Odin, who has migrated from his original lands (Troy--yes, that Troy). In the process of their discussion, Gylfi learns about the creation and inevitable destruction of the world, as well as the various gods of the Nordic pantheon.
Gylfi speaking to Odin, disguised as three kings
The compilation was meant as a guide, maybe even a bible of sorts, to which people and poets could refer--a handy thing in any age, really. The work refers heavily to the Poetic Edda, which itself is more a collection than a consciously assembled work, compiling bits of mythological history and assembling them into a relatively linear whole.
The dialogue begins with the three kings stating Gylfi must become wiser (i.e., more knowledgeable about mythology) or he will not be permitted to leave alive. It's a pretty thin veneer for a contrived conversation meant to unsubtly wheedle information about the foundation of the world, and while probably the most informative in a general sense, comes off a bit forced. Here we have a disguised kind seeking mythological knowledge, asking surprisingly pointed questions about topics which he knows nothing about, and can therefore hardly know when he's received all the information about something.
The history of the Norse Gods is one of strange contradictions and bizarre world creation legends tending toward the Munchhausen Trilemma--not that science has found the bedrock for an explanation of a beginning yet, either, but it seems pointed in a comparatively sensible direction.
The contradictions stem from an effort on, presumably, Sturleson's part to link Norse gods to a physical location and line of people, the AEsir, on Earth, which we'll get to later.
The gods, Odin and his famous offspring and brethren, were a race of people who were born of a giant who was born of the very first giant (a term usually, but not always, restricted to Very Large People).
What did not simply appear from the void, such as light and waterfalls and cows, came from a single giant, Ymir (who was a giant, even though not all giants are giant) that, having been slain by his grandchildren, Odin included, had all his body parts turned into the various landscapes fo the world. When Gylfi/Gangleri asks where one thing or another comes from (e.g., What did the giant eat if there was only light and dark and such? Answer: A cow formed spontaneously from icicle drippings. How fortunate.), one gets the impression that pretty much anything can preclude the formation of something else based purely upon necessity, and in that fashion "it's turtles all the way down."
This seems a rather linear and sensible description of the ascent of Odin, et al, to the seat of power, not unlike the ascension of Zeus and other Greek gods after they slay their elemental father. Where it gets confusing is when we consider the Prologue to the Gylfiginning.
In the prologue, despite having been the grandsons of what was the first humanoid being, Ymir the giant, the "gods" hail from Troy, exist post-Talmudic flood, and are called AEsir. They are the current line in many generations and have migrated all the way from western Anatolia to settle in Sweden.
We also learn in the Gylfaginning that Odin and his brethren were actually just people who became godlike because of their great powers and are immortal so long as they eat magical apples overseen by another "god". While other gods are innately godlike, the Norse Gods are more like superheroes. We have an All Father in Odin, yet he and all the other gods have anticipated their doom in the final battle (Ragnarok), in which everyone dies, even the warriors who died well and are granted the opportunity to participate in this final battle. Rather grim, though there are hints of an afterlife afterwards, even if the fate of everyone involved in Ragnarok isn't clear--clarification is welcome.
How these two pathways rectify with one another is beyond my understanding. Only in the realm of mythmaking and religion can a story be told several starkly different ways and each of them be true. The best explanation I can come up with is that by tying these gods to a place in time and making them wise humans rather than gods born of a giant Snorri may have been attempting to avoid being outed as heretical, as Christopher Tolkien's foreword to J.R.R Tolkien's The Legend of Sigurd and Gudrun describe Christian missionaries as rather zealous and intent on squelching paganism.
This is a resource for myth-writing poets, so it can hardly be expected to be believable, or without contradiction and hyperbole. It probably suffers from an effort to integrate some features of Christianity that were invariably absent from the oral tradition and an inexplicable compulsion to tie Asgard, the home of the gods, to Troy and its King Priam.
Skaldskaparmal
The Skaldskaparmal is a dialogue between AEgir and Bragi, the god of poetry, and provides examples of the proper idioms used to refer to people, places, and things (e.g., Gold is known as Sif's hair, pretty much everyone's bane, and a number of other, more obscure references based on Nordic myths) when composing poetry.
For example, Suttung's Mead gives the gift of poetry to any who drink it. Odin stole the mead by drinking all of it, then vomited two thirds out while flying over Asgard in bird form (to escape the giant he was fleeing), with the final third blowing out his rear. This final third is known as the "bad poet's portion". The implication here ought to be clear.
This also confirms the grand thesis of scatalogical theorist,Taro Gomi.
In this section it is plain to see mechanisms utilized by Tolkien in his writing. Projected downfalls of one God or monster in the Edda are often referred to as The Bane of [insert character], which naturally brings your mind to bear on particulars from the Lord of the Rings, such as Isildur's Bane.
Hattatal
This book loses a star because it inexplicably lacks the Hattatal, which many other versions contain. The Hattatal was composed by Sturleson in an effort to demonstrate appropriate meter and method used when composing poetry.
In all, this work is a fantastic and convoluted resource for figures, names, locations, and their functions in Norse mythology. If you want to know why certain gods do the things they do (e.g., fight frost giants, appear in cinematic features, etc.), the name and features of the gigantic hall in which each lives, the particular traits that are their weaknesses and strengths, where monsters like Jormungand originate (usually Loki), it's all here.
The Midgard Serpent, Jormungand. Not a dog dropping.
In all, an informative if not gripping read. However, if you're looking for a reference book, you're probably better off finding a Dictionary of Norse Gods, or something of that ilk.
Snorri's work is an obvious attempt to preserve some of what was lost and promote the continuation of a poetic tradition that had begun to fade by the 13th century in the face of Christianity, the last bastions of a heathen pantheon of northern Europe making a last stand in Scandanavia. Faced with the spread of Christianity and its Bible, Snorri observed his people had no solid theological work upon which to fall back on as a resource, and thus composed what is known as the Prose Edda.
God + Giant = Horse + Spider (Sleipnir). Only in mythology.
The Prose Edda is generally composed of a Prologue and three parts:
Gylfaginning
Skaldskaparmal
Hattatal
Gylfaginning
The largest portion is given to the Gylfaginning, and serves as the meat of the Nordic cosmic history. It involves the travel of a Scandanavian king, Gylfi, disguised as Gangleri, to visit Odin, who likewise disguises himself as three kings (it seems to be a theme amongst gods to disguise themselves simply because they can), and inquire about the nature of Odin, who has migrated from his original lands (Troy--yes, that Troy). In the process of their discussion, Gylfi learns about the creation and inevitable destruction of the world, as well as the various gods of the Nordic pantheon.
Gylfi speaking to Odin, disguised as three kings
The compilation was meant as a guide, maybe even a bible of sorts, to which people and poets could refer--a handy thing in any age, really. The work refers heavily to the Poetic Edda, which itself is more a collection than a consciously assembled work, compiling bits of mythological history and assembling them into a relatively linear whole.
The dialogue begins with the three kings stating Gylfi must become wiser (i.e., more knowledgeable about mythology) or he will not be permitted to leave alive. It's a pretty thin veneer for a contrived conversation meant to unsubtly wheedle information about the foundation of the world, and while probably the most informative in a general sense, comes off a bit forced. Here we have a disguised kind seeking mythological knowledge, asking surprisingly pointed questions about topics which he knows nothing about, and can therefore hardly know when he's received all the information about something.
"What more of importance can be said of the ash [Ygdrasil, the world tree]?"
The history of the Norse Gods is one of strange contradictions and bizarre world creation legends tending toward the Munchhausen Trilemma--not that science has found the bedrock for an explanation of a beginning yet, either, but it seems pointed in a comparatively sensible direction.
The contradictions stem from an effort on, presumably, Sturleson's part to link Norse gods to a physical location and line of people, the AEsir, on Earth, which we'll get to later.
The gods, Odin and his famous offspring and brethren, were a race of people who were born of a giant who was born of the very first giant (a term usually, but not always, restricted to Very Large People).
What did not simply appear from the void, such as light and waterfalls and cows, came from a single giant, Ymir (who was a giant, even though not all giants are giant) that, having been slain by his grandchildren, Odin included, had all his body parts turned into the various landscapes fo the world. When Gylfi/Gangleri asks where one thing or another comes from (e.g., What did the giant eat if there was only light and dark and such? Answer: A cow formed spontaneously from icicle drippings. How fortunate.), one gets the impression that pretty much anything can preclude the formation of something else based purely upon necessity, and in that fashion "it's turtles all the way down."
This seems a rather linear and sensible description of the ascent of Odin, et al, to the seat of power, not unlike the ascension of Zeus and other Greek gods after they slay their elemental father. Where it gets confusing is when we consider the Prologue to the Gylfiginning.
In the prologue, despite having been the grandsons of what was the first humanoid being, Ymir the giant, the "gods" hail from Troy, exist post-Talmudic flood, and are called AEsir. They are the current line in many generations and have migrated all the way from western Anatolia to settle in Sweden.
We also learn in the Gylfaginning that Odin and his brethren were actually just people who became godlike because of their great powers and are immortal so long as they eat magical apples overseen by another "god". While other gods are innately godlike, the Norse Gods are more like superheroes. We have an All Father in Odin, yet he and all the other gods have anticipated their doom in the final battle (Ragnarok), in which everyone dies, even the warriors who died well and are granted the opportunity to participate in this final battle. Rather grim, though there are hints of an afterlife afterwards, even if the fate of everyone involved in Ragnarok isn't clear--clarification is welcome.
How these two pathways rectify with one another is beyond my understanding. Only in the realm of mythmaking and religion can a story be told several starkly different ways and each of them be true. The best explanation I can come up with is that by tying these gods to a place in time and making them wise humans rather than gods born of a giant Snorri may have been attempting to avoid being outed as heretical, as Christopher Tolkien's foreword to J.R.R Tolkien's The Legend of Sigurd and Gudrun describe Christian missionaries as rather zealous and intent on squelching paganism.
This is a resource for myth-writing poets, so it can hardly be expected to be believable, or without contradiction and hyperbole. It probably suffers from an effort to integrate some features of Christianity that were invariably absent from the oral tradition and an inexplicable compulsion to tie Asgard, the home of the gods, to Troy and its King Priam.
Skaldskaparmal
The Skaldskaparmal is a dialogue between AEgir and Bragi, the god of poetry, and provides examples of the proper idioms used to refer to people, places, and things (e.g., Gold is known as Sif's hair, pretty much everyone's bane, and a number of other, more obscure references based on Nordic myths) when composing poetry.
For example, Suttung's Mead gives the gift of poetry to any who drink it. Odin stole the mead by drinking all of it, then vomited two thirds out while flying over Asgard in bird form (to escape the giant he was fleeing), with the final third blowing out his rear. This final third is known as the "bad poet's portion". The implication here ought to be clear.
This also confirms the grand thesis of scatalogical theorist,Taro Gomi.
In this section it is plain to see mechanisms utilized by Tolkien in his writing. Projected downfalls of one God or monster in the Edda are often referred to as The Bane of [insert character], which naturally brings your mind to bear on particulars from the Lord of the Rings, such as Isildur's Bane.
Hattatal
This book loses a star because it inexplicably lacks the Hattatal, which many other versions contain. The Hattatal was composed by Sturleson in an effort to demonstrate appropriate meter and method used when composing poetry.
In all, this work is a fantastic and convoluted resource for figures, names, locations, and their functions in Norse mythology. If you want to know why certain gods do the things they do (e.g., fight frost giants, appear in cinematic features, etc.), the name and features of the gigantic hall in which each lives, the particular traits that are their weaknesses and strengths, where monsters like Jormungand originate (usually Loki), it's all here.
The Midgard Serpent, Jormungand. Not a dog dropping.
In all, an informative if not gripping read. However, if you're looking for a reference book, you're probably better off finding a Dictionary of Norse Gods, or something of that ilk.
Kind of hilarious that one of our most important sources on Norse mythology is a poetry textbook written by one Christian dude in Iceland
I enjoyed this, despite the fact that the reader sounded like he was a member of Team Rocket.
The first half of this, the Gylfaginning, which is a conversation between an adventurer and The High Kings, is great. The stories of the old gods are extremely interesting, and Snorri's way of situating everything was really cool.
Snorri wrote this in the 1200's, when Christianity was spreading north and the old ways were being persecuted. Snorri was an ass (so much so his son in law assassinated him and everyone breathed easier afterwards), but he wanted the history of his people to be kept without offending God, so he assumes the Aesir are from Asia, and Thor and his brothers are those people he knew as the Trojans. I really enjoyed that justification, because it ties everything together as he knew it. He sort of put forward the theory of One God with lesser demi-gods, and was cognizant of more of the world than the myths originally contemplated.
The second half is a couple of stories and some of the history of Norway, Sweden and Denmark in a sort of skaldic thesaurus. Snorri thought much of his poetic abilities. I thought less. Good for research, but I am glad Snorri is more known for his prose.
I highly recommend listening to the stories part. I laughed out loud at a couple of the burns Loki and Odin issued, and really enjoyed the interactions of all the characters. I could hear how this would be re-told to a modern audience and it's timeless--funny, daring, and a lot less psychopathic than the Greeks. The exploits of Thor and his family are a concise read, and well worth it.
The first half of this, the Gylfaginning, which is a conversation between an adventurer and The High Kings, is great. The stories of the old gods are extremely interesting, and Snorri's way of situating everything was really cool.
Snorri wrote this in the 1200's, when Christianity was spreading north and the old ways were being persecuted. Snorri was an ass (so much so his son in law assassinated him and everyone breathed easier afterwards), but he wanted the history of his people to be kept without offending God, so he assumes the Aesir are from Asia, and Thor and his brothers are those people he knew as the Trojans. I really enjoyed that justification, because it ties everything together as he knew it. He sort of put forward the theory of One God with lesser demi-gods, and was cognizant of more of the world than the myths originally contemplated.
The second half is a couple of stories and some of the history of Norway, Sweden and Denmark in a sort of skaldic thesaurus. Snorri thought much of his poetic abilities. I thought less. Good for research, but I am glad Snorri is more known for his prose.
I highly recommend listening to the stories part. I laughed out loud at a couple of the burns Loki and Odin issued, and really enjoyed the interactions of all the characters. I could hear how this would be re-told to a modern audience and it's timeless--funny, daring, and a lot less psychopathic than the Greeks. The exploits of Thor and his family are a concise read, and well worth it.
informative
inspiring
medium-paced