CHAPTER VI: BRAGI

The Origin of Poetry

At the time of the dispute between the Æsir and Vanas, when peace

had been agreed upon, a vase was brought into the assembly into which

both parties solemnly spat. From this saliva the gods created Kvasir,

a being renowned for his wisdom and goodness, who went about the

world answering all questions asked him, thus teaching and benefiting

mankind. The dwarfs, hearing about Kvasir's great wisdom, coveted it,

and finding him asleep one day, two of their number, Fialar and Galar,

treacherously slew him, and drained every drop of his blood into

three vessels--the kettle Od-hroerir (inspiration) and the bowls Son

(expiation) and Boden (offering). After duly mixing this blood with

honey, they manufactured from it a sort of beverage so inspiring that

any one who tasted it immediately became a poet, and could sing with

a charm which was certain to win all hearts.

Now, although the dwarfs had brewed this marvellous mead for their own

consumption, they did not even taste it, but hid it away in a secret

place, while they went in search of further adventures. They had not

gone very far ere they found the giant Gilling also sound asleep,

lying on a steep bank, and they maliciously rolled him into the water,

where he perished. Then hastening to his dwelling, some climbed on

the roof, carrying a huge millstone, while the others, entering,

told the giantess that her husband was dead. This news caused the

poor creature great grief, and she rushed out of the house to view

Gilling's remains. As she passed through the door, the wicked dwarfs

rolled the millstone down upon her head, and killed her. According to

another account, the dwarfs invited the giant to go fishing with them,

and succeeded in slaying him by sending him out in a leaky vessel,

which sank beneath his weight.

The double crime thus committed did not long remain unpunished, for

Gilling's brother, Suttung, quickly went in search of the dwarfs,

determined to avenge him. Seizing them in his mighty grasp, the giant

conveyed them to a shoal far out at sea, where they would surely have

perished at the next high tide had they not succeeded in redeeming

their lives by promising to deliver to the giant their recently

brewed mead. As soon as Suttung set them ashore, they therefore

gave him the precious compound, which he entrusted to his daughter

Gunlod, bidding her guard it night and day, and allow neither gods

nor mortals to have so much as a taste. The better to fulfil this

command, Gunlod carried the three vessels into the hollow mountain,

where she kept watch over them with the most scrupulous care, nor

did she suspect that Odin had discovered their place of concealment,

thanks to the sharp eyes of his ever-vigilant ravens Hugin and Munin.

The Quest of the Draught

As Odin had mastered the runic lore and had tasted the waters of

Mimir's fountain, he was already the wisest of gods; but learning

of the power of the draught of inspiration manufactured out of

Kvasir's blood, he became very anxious to obtain possession of the

magic fluid. With this purpose in view he therefore donned his

broad-brimmed hat, wrapped himself in his cloud-hued cloak, and

journeyed off to Jötun-heim. On his way to the giant's dwelling he

passed by a field where nine ugly thralls were busy making hay. Odin

paused for a moment, watching them at their work, and noticing that

their scythes seemed very dull indeed, he proposed to whet them,

an offer which the thralls eagerly accepted.

Drawing a whetstone from his bosom, Odin proceeded to sharpen the

nine scythes, skilfully giving them such a keen edge that the thralls,

delighted, begged that they might have the stone. With good-humoured

acquiescence, Odin tossed the whetstone over the wall; but as the

nine thralls simultaneously sprang forward to catch it, they wounded

one another with their keen scythes. In anger at their respective

carelessness, they now began to fight, and did not pause until they

were all either mortally wounded or dead.

Quite undismayed by this tragedy, Odin continued on his way, and

shortly after came to the house of the giant Baugi, a brother

of Suttung, who received him very hospitably. In the course of

conversation, Baugi informed him that he was greatly embarrassed,

as it was harvest time and all his workmen had just been found dead

in the hayfield.

Odin, who on this occasion had given his name as Bolwerk (evil doer),

promptly offered his services to the giant, promising to accomplish

as much work as the nine thralls, and to labour diligently all the

summer in exchange for one single draught of Suttung's magic mead when

the busy season was ended. This bargain was immediately concluded,

and Baugi's new servant, Bolwerk, worked incessantly all the summer

long, more than fulfilling his contract, and safely garnering all the

grain before the autumn rains began to fall. When the first days of

winter came, Bolwerk presented himself before his master, claiming

his reward. But Baugi hesitated and demurred, saying he dared not

openly ask his brother Suttung for the draught of inspiration, but

would try to obtain it by guile. Together, Bolwerk and Baugi then

proceeded to the mountain where Gunlod dwelt, and as they could find

no other mode of entering the secret cave, Odin produced his trusty

auger, called Rati, and bade the giant bore with all his might to

make a hole through which he might crawl into the interior.

Baugi silently obeyed, and after a few moments' work withdrew the tool,

saying that he had pierced through the mountain, and that Odin would

have no difficulty in slipping through. But the god, mistrusting this

statement, merely blew into the hole, and when the dust and chips came

flying into his face, he sternly bade Baugi resume his boring and not

attempt to deceive him again. The giant did as he was told, and when

he withdrew his tool again, Odin ascertained that the hole was really

finished. Changing himself into a snake, he wriggled through with

such remarkable rapidity that he managed to elude the sharp auger,

which Baugi treacherously thrust into the hole after him, intending

to kill him.

"Rati's mouth I caused

To make a space,

And to gnaw the rock;

Over and under me

Were the Jötun's ways:

Thus I my head did peril."

Hávamál (Thorpe's tr.).

The Rape of the Draught

Having reached the interior of the mountain, Odin reassumed his usual

godlike form and starry mantle, and then presented himself in the

stalactite-hung cave before the beautiful Gunlod. He intended to win

her love as a means of inducing her to grant him a sip from each of

the vessels confided to her care.

Won by his passionate wooing, Gunlod consented to become his wife,

and after he had spent three whole days with her in this retreat,

she brought out the vessels from their secret hiding-place, and told

him he might take a sip from each.

"And a draught obtained

Of the precious mead,

Drawn from Od-hroerir."

Odin's Rune-Song (Thorpe's tr.).

Odin made good use of this permission and drank so deeply that he

completely drained all three vessels. Then, having obtained all that

he wanted, he emerged from the cave and, donning his eagle plumes,

rose high into the blue, and, after hovering for a moment over the

mountain top, winged his flight towards Asgard.

He was still far from the gods' realm when he became aware of a

pursuer, and, indeed, Suttung, having also assumed the form of an

eagle, was coming rapidly after him with intent to compel him to

surrender the stolen mead. Odin therefore flew faster and faster,

straining every nerve to reach Asgard before the foe should overtake

him, and as he drew near the gods anxiously watched the race.

Seeing that Odin would only with difficulty be able to escape, the

Æsir hastily gathered all the combustible materials they could find,

and as he flew over the ramparts of their dwelling, they set fire to

the mass of fuel, so that the flames, rising high, singed the wings

of Suttung, as he followed the god, and he fell into the very midst

of the fire, where he was burned to death.

As for Odin, he flew to where the gods had prepared vessels for

the stolen mead, and disgorged the draught of inspiration in such

breathless haste that a few drops fell and were scattered over the

earth. There they became the portion of rhymesters and poetasters,

the gods reserving the main draught for their own consumption, and

only occasionally vouchsafing a taste to some favoured mortal, who,

immediately after, would win world-wide renown by his inspired songs.

"Of a well-assumed form

I made good use:

Few things fail the wise;

For Od-hroerir

Is now come up

To men's earthly dwellings."

Hávamál (Thorpe's tr.).

As men and gods owed the priceless gift to Odin, they were ever ready

to express to him their gratitude, and they not only called it by

his name, but they worshipped him as patron of eloquence, poetry,

and song, and of all scalds.

The God of Music

Although Odin had thus won the gift of poetry, he seldom made use of

it himself. It was reserved for his son Bragi, the child of Gunlod,

to become the god of poetry and music, and to charm the world with

his songs.

"White-bearded bard, ag'd

Bragi, his gold harp

Sweeps--and yet softer

Stealeth the day."

Viking Tales of the North (R. B. Anderson).

As soon as Bragi was born in the stalactite-hung cave where Odin had

won Gunlod's affections, the dwarfs presented him with a magical golden

harp, and, setting him on one of their own vessels, they sent him out

into the wide world. As the boat gently passed out of subterranean

darkness, and floated over the threshold of Nain, the realm of the

dwarf of death, Bragi, the fair and immaculate young god, who until

then had shown no signs of life, suddenly sat up, and, seizing the

golden harp beside him, he began to sing the wondrous song of life,

which rose at times to heaven, and then sank down to the dread realm

of Hel, goddess of death.

"Yggdrasil's ash is

Of all trees most excellent,

And of all ships, Skidbladnir;

Of the Æsir, Odin,

And of horses, Sleipnir;

Bifröst of bridges,

And of scalds, Bragi."

Lay of Grimnir (Thorpe's tr.).

While he played the vessel was wafted gently over sunlit waters, and

soon touched the shore. Bragi then proceeded on foot, threading his

way through the bare and silent forest, playing as he walked. At the

sound of his tender music the trees began to bud and bloom, and the

grass underfoot was gemmed with countless flowers.

Here he met Idun, daughter of Ivald, the fair goddess of immortal

youth, whom the dwarfs allowed to visit the earth from time to time,

when, at her approach, nature invariably assumed its loveliest and

gentlest aspect.

It was only to be expected that two such beings should feel

attracted to each other, and Bragi soon won this fair goddess for his

wife. Together they hastened to Asgard, where both were warmly welcomed

and where Odin, after tracing runes on Bragi's tongue, decreed that

he should be the heavenly minstrel and composer of songs in honour

of the gods and of the heroes whom he received in Valhalla.

Worship of Bragi

As Bragi was god of poetry, eloquence, and song, the Northern

races also called poetry by his name, and scalds of either sex were

frequently designated as Braga-men or Braga-women. Bragi was greatly

honoured by all the Northern races, and hence his health was always

drunk on solemn or festive occasions, but especially at funeral feasts

and at Yuletide celebrations.

When it was time to drink this toast, which was served in cups shaped

like a ship, and was called the Bragaful, the sacred sign of the hammer

was first made over it. Then the new ruler or head of the family

solemnly pledged himself to some great deed of valour, which he was

bound to execute within the year, unless he wished to be considered

destitute of honour. Following his example, all the guests were then

wont to make similar vows and declare what they would do; and as some

of them, owing to previous potations, talked rather too freely of

their intentions on these occasions, this custom seems to connect the

god's name with the vulgar but very expressive English verb "to brag."

In art, Bragi is generally represented as an elderly man, with long

white hair and beard, and holding the golden harp from which his

fingers could draw such magic strains.

Myths of the Norsemen: From the Eddas and Sagas · 第 6 / 29 章