BRAGI.
[Sidenote: Origin of poetry.]
At the time of the dispute between the Æsir and Vanas, when the
peace articles had all 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 all 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 marvelous mead for their own
consumption, they did not even taste it, but hid it away in a secret
place, while they went out 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 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 woman
great grief; but just as she was rushing out of the house to view
Gilling’s remains, 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 crime thus committed did not long remain unpunished, for although
Gilling’s wife was dead, he had left a brother, Suttung, who determined
to avenge him. Seizing the dwarfs in his mighty grasp, this giant
placed them on 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 relinquishing their recently brewed mead. As soon as
Suttung set them ashore, they therefore gave him the precious compound,
which he intrusted to his daughter Gunlod, bidding her guard it night
and day, and allow neither gods nor mortals to have even a taste. To
fulfill this command, Gunlod carried the three vessels into the hollow
mountain, where she kept watch over them with the most scrupulous care,
little suspecting that Odin had discovered their place of concealment,
thanks to the sharp eyes of his ever-vigilant ravens Hugin and Munin.
As Odin had mastered the runic lore and had tasted the waters of
Mimir’s fountain, he was already the wisest of gods; but hearing of
the power of the draught of inspiration manufactured out of Kvasir’s
blood, he became very anxious to obtain possession of it also. 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, watched them
work, and then proposed to whet their scythes, which seemed very dull
indeed--an offer which the thralls eagerly accepted.
Drawing a whetstone from his bosom, Odin proceeded to sharpen the nine
scythes, skillfully giving them such a keen edge that the thralls,
finding their labor much lightened, asked for his whetstone. With
good-humored 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
soon came to the house of the giant Baugi, a brother of Suttung, who
received him very hospitably, and in the course of the conversation
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 labor diligently all 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 summer long, more
than fulfilling his part of the 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 a draught of inspiration, but would try to
obtain it by cunning. 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 mountain.
Baugi silently obeyed, and after a few moments’ work withdrew the tool,
saying that he had pierced through the mountain side, 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 never attempt to deceive him again. The giant bored on, and when
he withdrew his tool again, Odin ascertained that the hole was really
finished. Changing himself into a worm, he wriggled through with
such remarkable rapidity that he managed to escape, although Baugi
treacherously thrust the sharp auger 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.).
Having reached the stalactite-hung cave, Odin reassumed his usual
godlike form and starry mantle, and then presented himself before the
beautiful Gunlod to exert all his fascinations to win her love, and
coax 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 use of this permission to drink so deeply that he completely
drained all three vessels, and then, having obtained all he wanted,
and being intoxicated with love, poetry, and inspiration, he donned
his eagle plumes, rose higher and higher up into the blue, and, after
hovering for a moment over the mountain top, winged his heavy flight
towards Asgard.
He was still very far from the gods’ realm, however, when he suddenly
became aware of a pursuer, and, turning his head, ascertained that
Suttung, having also assumed the form of an eagle, was coming rapidly
after him 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, while the gods anxiously watched the race.
Seeing that Odin was greatly handicapped and would scarcely be able to
escape, the Æsir hastily gathered all the combustible materials they
could find, and as soon as he had flown 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, who, bewildered with pain, fell into
the very midst of the fire, where he was burned to death.
As for Odin, he flew on to the spot where the gods had prepared vessels
for the stolen mead, and disgorged the draught of inspiration in such
breathless haste that a few drops were scattered over the earth. There
they became the portion of rhymsters and poetasters, the gods reserving
the divine beverage for their own consumption, and only occasionally
vouchsafing a taste to some favored mortal, who, immediately after, won
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 this priceless gift to Odin, they were ever ready
to show him their gratitude, and not only called it by his name, but
also worshiped him as god of eloquence, poetry, and song, and made him
the patron of all scalds.
[Sidenote: 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 magic golden
harp, and, setting him on board of one of their own vessels, 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, began to sing the wondrous song of life, which
at times rose up to heaven, and then sank down to the underground realm
of Hel, the 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.”
LAV OF GRIMNIR (Thorpe’s tr.).
While he played the vessel was gently wafted over sunlit waters, and
soon touched the shore. The god 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,
and at her approach nature invariably assumed its loveliest and
gentlest aspect.
Bragi having secured this fair goddess for his wife hastened with
her 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 compose songs in honor of the gods and of the heroes whom
he received in Valhalla.
[Sidenote: 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
honored by all the Northern races, and hence his health was always
drunk on solemn or festive occasions, but especially at funeral feasts
and at Yule-tide 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 valor, which he was
bound to execute within the year, unless he wished to be considered
destitute of honor. 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 tones.