N is for the Nítíða Saga (Women's Epcis A to Z)

This year my theme for the A to Z Blogging Challenge is Women's Epics. My goal was to read 26 traditional epics from around the world that have women as their heroes. Because epics like this do exist, and they are fascinating! Read the intoduction post here.

Nítíða Saga
Iceland

This is a 14th century Icelandic riddarasaga ('knight saga') that exists in no fewer than 65 manuscripts, testifying to its popularity. (Apparently riddarasögür are less popular and well-known today than the earlier sagas, which is a pity because they are definitely fun.) In the original text Nítíða is referred to not as queen, but as "maiden-king". There are other similar sagas featuring "maiden-kings", but those usually end in the defeat and humiliation of the maidens, and their submission to marriage - Nítíða, in this regard, is a counter-narrative to those, because she makes her own free choice.

I read Sheryl McDonald's translation and article from here, but there is also a whole book on this saga here. The article came with a short and concise introduction to the story as well as the history of its translation and research.

What is it about?

TL;DR: Nítíða, the maiden-king of France, manages to repel (and/or kill) a whole host of unwanted suitors before she falls in love with Prince Liforinus from India and makes her own free choice to marry him.

Nítíða the Famous is the queen (maiden-king) of France who rules in Paris. She is known for her beauty and her intellect. One day she decides to visit her foster-mother Egidía in Apulia. While there, she tells her foster-mother that she would like to travel to the North Pole, to a magical island called Visio, where the great magician Virgilius lives. She takes her foster-brother Hléskjöldur along for the journey. They arrive to Virgilius' island and the queen basically robs the place, taking four magic stones, a vessel that lets her see the entire world, and various magic apples and herbs. Virgilius sends ships after them, but Nítíða uses the stones to render their own ship invisible. She happily returns home to France along with her foster-brother.

Ingi, son of the King of Constantinople, sails to Paris on his yearly journey of plundering. Nítíða  invites him to a feast. Ingi asks her to be his wife, promising riches in return. Nítíða turns him down in no uncertain terms, saying her kingdom is richer and greater than his, and anyway she is much better off without men, and she doesn't want to give herself up to any king, thank you very much. Ingi goes on plundering, and hires a sorcerer named Fox-Stone to get him Nítíða as a wife. They sneak into the queen's palace under the cover of a cloak of invisibility, and kidnap her, sailing straight back to Constantinople. A wedding is prepared. But when Nítíða is being escorted to the wedding chambers by Ingi's sister, she suggests they stop and gaze at the sky to read the stars. She takes out one of her magic stones, and uses it to fly up and out of their reach. She returns home to France.

The next summer Ingi goes plundering again, plotting revenge for the humiliation. He hires another sorcerer, named Sly-Fox, to get Nítíða for him. The maiden-king sees him coming, and prepares a trick. She dresses up a bondwoman as herself, using magic to glamour her, and she makes herself invisible. Ingi appears, kidnaps the woman, and this time he succeeds in taking her home to Constaniople and marrying her. However, after a month, his sister begins to suspect that the wife is not the actual Nítíða. She has a conversation with the woman, and she confesses the truth (she misses her husband and children). Angry and humiliated, Ingi chases her away.

Meanwhile, the sons of the king of Serkland hear about Ingi's humiliation, and they decide to sail to France to try their own luck. Meanwhile, Nítíða is preparing for the next invasion, having his trusted smith Ypolitus construct a trap door at her chamber a glass dome over the gates. When the princes arrive, they send a message that she should marry one of them, or otherwise they'll plunder her lands. Nítíða replies by telling them she wants to talk to the each separately, so she can make her choice. The next dawn, Prince Vélogi goes to the castle, but he is trapped by the glass dome with his men, and attacked by Hléskjöldur. They all die. Soon after the other brother, Prince Heiðarlogi is invitied - but he is lured by all his men into the ditch under the trap door and also killed. Nítíða's soldiers then chase the rest of the raiders away.

Meanwhile a prince called Liforinus from India finds out about Nítíða and decides to win her as his wife. He enlists the help of a dwarf who knows magic. When he lands in France, Nítíða (who foresees his arrival with her stones) invites him to a feast. The dwarf gives Liforinus a gold ring, instructing him to touch it to Nítíða's neck to capture her. With the magic of the ring he grabs her, and while all her men are stuck to their seats, spirits her away to his ship and then back to India. There the maiden-king befriends the prince's sister Sýjalín. Soon she uses her magic stone to fly the both of them back to Paris, where the two women become inseparable.

Meanwhile Soldán, the King of Serkland finds out about the death of his sons, and brings an army to France for revenge. Nítíða sends out her foster-brother with her own army to meet them in naval battle. King Soldán seems to be winning when Liforinus makes a surprise appearance and joins the battle. He kills King Soldán, and saves Hléskjöldur who is severely wounded. He takes Hléskjöldur back to India and once he is healed, sends him home to France with ships and gifts and well-wishes. 

Liforinus himself goes on another plundering voyage, and stops to visit his aunt Alduria, queen of Småland. She sees that he is sad and finds out he still longs for the maiden-king. She gives him a ring that helps him disguise himself. In the autumn Liforinus arrives to Nítíða's court as Eskilvarður, prince of Mundia. He spends the winter with her. She judges him wise and entertaining, and they spend a lot of time in conversation, and with the young man playing music and reciting poetry for her.

When spring comes, Nítíða invites her guest to show him and look over the whole world through the magic mirror. She makes playful comments about Prince Liforinus being nowhere to be seen, until she reveals the truth: "Liforinus, remove your cloak of disguise." It turns out that she had known all this time who he really was. She organizes a large feast, and Liforinus officially proposes to her. Her foster-brother supports the suitor, and so do her counselors. A wedding is arranged for autumn.

Meanwhile Ingi finds out the maiden-king is marrying someone else, and he grows angry, bringing an army to France. Liforinus rides out to battle him. Eventually the two leaders arrange a single combat. When they are both wounded, they go to bed to heal their wounds. Liforinus courteously sends his sister Sýjalín to Ingi to tend to him, and the two fall in love. Thus, the war ends, and Ingi joins the family, engaged to the Indian princess. To round out the wedding lineup, Listalín, Ingi's sister is betrothed to Hléskjöldur. They all live happily ever after.

The highlights

Image from here

I loved the opening description of Nítíða's intellect: "She was as endowed with knowledge as the wisest scholar, and, surpassing other people’s intelligence, she could make the strongest castlewall with her own intellect, and thus outmaneuvre others’ plans; and she knew ten answers when others knew one." 

Another detail that I really liked was the maiden-king's relationship with her foster brother.Hléskjöldur was by her side in all her plans and adventures, and he was the one who saw the potential in Liforinus as a good match for her. He came off as a brave, caring supporting character, and I was glad he got his own happy ending.

I really enjoyed the fact that the story allowed the maiden-king to actually grow to like Liforinus. The text says he "frequently came to the queen because he was good at playing the harp and all musical instruments, and he was able to say something about every country. The queen took the greatest delight in his company." The playful way she revealed that she had known him all along was surprisingly endearing, and also felt like a modern twist on an old trope. Women often get cheated by disguise like this in folklore, but the fact that she knew what was happening gives her all the agency in choosing her husband.

Side note: honestly, the description of devotion between Sýjalín and Nítíða bordered on queer. After flying back to France together, the maiden-king "set her in the high-seat next to herself, both of them drinking from one cup, and she parted from her neither in sleep nor during meals." It did occur to me that this part would lend itself well to a queer retelling of this story very well. Later on, when King Soldán makes an appearance, the women are gazing into the magic mirror together, making plans.

THIS SAGA SOUNDS LIKE A "FEMINIST TAKE" ON AN OLD TROPE, AND YET IT IS 700 YEARS OLD.

I wonder why it is not more well-known among modern retellings today...?

G is for Grottasǫngr (Women's Epics A to Z)

This year my theme for the A to Z Blogging Challenge is Women's Epics. My goal was to read 26 traditional epics from around the world that have women as their heroes. Because epics like this do exist, and they are fascinating! Read the intoduction post here.

Grottasǫngr
Iceland

This story (in prose and poetic form) is part of Snorri Sturluson's Prose Edda, and even though it is short, it is rich in detail and influence. The title translates into The Song of Grotti - Grotti being the magical mill at the center of the plot. However, the real protagonists are the two giantesses, Fenja and Menja, who are turning the stone, and singing the song. The manuscripts it is preserved in date from the 13th and 14th centuries, but the song was likely composed in the 12th, under Danish influence. The translation I read (by Clive Tolley) comes with a lengthy introduction and detailed footnotes, which added a lot of interesting detail to the actual text.

What is it about?

TL;DR: Danish king Frodi enslaves two giantesses to turn a giant magical mill that grinds out riches. When he doesn't let them rest, the giantesses use magic to take revenge.

Snorri's prose version: Two large millstones are found in Denmark during the reign of King Frodi. They are so heavy that no one can turn them. Frodi travels to Sweden to visit the neighboring king, and acquires two giantesses, Fenja and Menja, as slaves. When he returns with them, he orders them to turn the millstones. The mill is so large that both girls are needed to turn it, and it can produce whatever is asked. The giantesses grind out large quantities of gold, peace, and prosperity for Frodi's kingdom. This era of peace and prosperity coincides with Augustus' "golden age" and therefore the lifetime of Christ. However, overtaken by greed, the king doesn't let Fenja and Menja rest at all. Eventually they grow spiteful, put everyone to sleep with a spell, and start singing their own song, grinding out strife and an invading army. Frodi's reign is toppled by a sea-king called Mysingr, who takes the mill on his ship. He orders the giantesses to grind salt for him (which is very valuable). However, weighed down by salt, the ship sinks, and the mill goes to the bottom of the ocean - where it is still grinding salt today.

The song itself: Fenja and Menja sing their story of becoming enslaved to the king, even though they are giantesses, and possess the ability of far-sight (clairvoyance). Frodi does not let them rest longer than "the cuckoo stops singing" - or, barely at all. They sing of their ancestry the king doesn't know of (they are related to several famous giants in Norse mythology), their childhood being raised underground - and they also reveal they were the ones who tore the large millstones from the mountain and tossed them down for humans to find. They sing about going to battle, toppling princes, winning wars. Eventually they sing Frodi's demise into existence, not deterred by the bloodshed they are causing.

The highlights

It was interesting to read in the introduction that the figure of King Frodi is actually a composite of two characters: one a prosperous, peaceful king (possibly a former fertility god), and the other a historical tyrant brought down by sea raiders. This accounts for the two halves of the story.

It is also a really interesting point that Frodi's eventual downfall is brought about by not investigating who his new slaves really were, or what they were capable of. The song states "you picked them for strength and appearances / but as to their ancestry you asked no question". Underestimating the mighty women is his fatal mistake.

The Introduction connects the song to ATU tale type 565, The magic mill, which appears in a whole lot of folktales explaining why the sea is salt. According to the research, this might have been tacked onto the Grottasongr at a later date, as it is not an integral part; Frodi's reign originally ends with Grotti shattering. Which I think is a pretty apt ending.

The notes of the translator raise the possibility of the human (Hengikjoptr) who found the millstones and gave them to Frodi actually being Odin in disguise. The gift being a test and a trick would be in alignment with an incognito god. It is also suggested that, since the giantesses had foresight, they might have intentionally put themselves in Frodi's power to eventually bring about his downfall. I kind of like that reading of the story.

The long-lasting reach of the story was illustrated by a list of kennings (metaphors) for gold in other sagas, all referencing Grottasongr in some way ("Fenja's grinding", "Frodi's seed", "flour of the joyless bondwomen" etc.). It was also fascinating to read how Fenja and Menja survived as witches in Orkney legends, and Grotti serves as the origin story of a whirlpool in the Pentland Firth.

THIS IS ONE OF THE LESSER KNOWN STORIES OF NORSE MYTHOLOGY.

Have you heard about it before? Which interpretation do you like?

"If our lives be short, let our fame be great": Nart sagas at the Silk Road House

For those of you just tuning in: I have fallen in love with the Nart sagas a while ago. I worked with them for a museum program for Archaeology Day, told them for MythOff, read them for Epics A to Z, and have been waxing poetic about their greatness for quite a while.

Which is why this storytelling event at the Silk Road House in Berkeley was such a perfect convergence of passion and storytelling. 

This summer, John Colarusso's translation of Nart Sagas (the Circassian and Abkhazian sagas) got its second edition, and Tales of the Narts (the Ossetian sagas) was published in English for the very first time. Since I was in San Francisco for Epic Day just in time for 3rd Friday, the traditional storytelling day of the Storytelling Association of California, everything came together for a concert celebrating the Nart sagas. On top of all that, it turned out that John Colarusso himself also just happened to be in town, and he did not only graciously accept our invitation to the event, but even agreed to present a short opening lecture. I was more than a little star-struck. He told us about what makes the Nart sagas unique and important, talked about their connections to European traditions, and pointed out some linguistic curiosities about the languages they have been translated from. It was a fascinating glimpse behind the scenes of how these books came to be. Professor Colarusso also very patiently helped me with the correct pronunciation of Ossetian names when I cornered him in the kitchen of the Silk Road House before the performance...

Since I have been working with the Ossetian sagas for a while now, I was given the honor of filling the first half of the event with the stories of my choice. I opened with the saga that first made me fall in love with them - it is called the The Narts and the Wadmer's Bones, and it talks about the Nart heroes unearthing the giant skeleton of an ancient hunter, and bringing him back to life to ask questions. As an archaeologist, I have always loved this tale, and now that I am (finally) reading First Fossil Hunters by Adrienne Mayor, it has become even more fascinating. 

Following up the giant's story, I told a short anecdote to introduce Shirdon, the Narts' trickster. He is like Loki, except he is treated worse, and, in Colarusso's words, he is more motivated. In Who deceived whom? the Narts try to cheat him out of his one fat ram, saying the end of the world is near - but in the end, Shirdon gets the last laugh. This story led me to the longest and most elaborate tale of the evening, A Nart Expedition, in which the heroes take Shirdon along on an adventure just to bully him for entertainment... until Shirdon decides to take revenge by tricking them into mortal danger, and then saving them in the last moment. It is a fun story, but also has a lot of very human moments. I especially like the fact that it has a very close parallel in the Irish Fianna stories (The Hostel of the Quicken Trees), and I have not found a similar tale anywhere else so far.

The second half of the evening was dedicated to Shatana (or Setenaya), the great matron of the Narts, a powerful and wise woman who keeps showing up in many of the tales. She is "the mother of one hundred", the matron of the war band of the Narts. I shared this set with two amazing storytellers. First, Cassie Cushing (the great matron of the Kaleidoscope storytelling café) told the story of the hero Shoshlan's conception and birth, elaborated with a shorter story about Shatana's golden apples. She wove several versions of the tale into one, making it sound like an enjoyable piece of gossip ("Some say..."). Since that story exists in so many versions, her solution to picking one was on point... Next, Tim Ereneta told the story of Urizhmag and Shatana's divorce, the Nart variation of the well-known folktale type of the Clever Wife ("Take from the house whatever is dearest to you..."). He did it with a lot of humor, while preserving the wisdom at the core of the story, and Shatana's character. Finally, I closed the evening with the saga of How Shoshlan rescued Shatana from the Lake of Hell, another long-time favorite of mine. It is a tense story, but it has a happy ending, and says a lot both about Shatana and the Nart heroes in general.

As far as storytelling events go, this was a near perfect evening. It was also a long-time dream of mine to do a concert like this, introducing people to the Nart sagas. We had a full house, and even a film crew from a Comparative Mythology program; people seemed inspired by the stories, and several of them said they will go and read the books now. That is what I consider a true compliment to an event like this: People discovering new tales, and storytellers passing them on. 

Fear and Trembling in Ancient Rome

One of my favorite summer gigs is camp at my former grade school. They invite me over every year for campfire storytelling (which is how storytelling really should be done).
This year, their theme for the week was time travel, and Tuesday evening fell on Ancient Greece and Rome. This is, for all intents and purposes, my home turf, so I was super excited; on top of that, they wanted me to tell scary stories, to create the whole traditional campfire experience.
I don't think they knew what they were asking when they told me "the scarier, the better."

I selected stories from my repertoire, including Greek, Roman, Egyptian, and the odd barbarian or two. I included Petronius' werewolf, Pliny the Younger's haunted house, the Nart skeleton story, and some darker pieces of Greek mythology. Since the organizers specifically asked for a mummy story to prepare the kids for the nighttime "bravery game," I also brushed up on Lord Hamon's case with the Mummy's Hand.
I arrived to the camp around 9 pm, dressed in full Roman garb (I love dressing up for storytelling; it's not really a character thing, but it does get me in the right mindset). The kids, almost 70 of them between the ages of roughly 8 and 14, eyed me from a safe distance; some of the boys demanded to know what I was. When I told them I was the storyteller, they frowned, and informed me that they thought storytelling was boring. I told them I was sorry, since according to camp rules they would have to sit through the horror tales anyway. The word "horror" worked like magic. It's the Achilles heel of middle school apathy.
For the next half hour or so I was surrounded by a swarm of kids, all talking at the same time. They wanted to know what stories I was going to tell, and whether they were going to be really, truly, really seriously VERY scary. I told them they could take their pick from werewolves, ghosts, mummies and dead people, and that choice occupied them for a good while. We also had a conversation about scary movies, video games, the Hunger Games, and superheroes, and by the time I got around to the campfire, one of the boys sat down at my feet muttering "finally somebody normal."

The stories were told in-between some performances by the kids. I decided to start with less scary ones, since the sun was just setting, and work my way up as it got darker. First I told the myth of Mestra, Odysseus' grandmother, and the evil king that ate himself. It is not very scary and only moderately gory, but it has a great mood, and also superpowers (it is included in my book under Shapeshifting). In the second slot I was asked to do something "scarier" at popular demand, preferably featuring werewolves, so I switched gears from Rome to Vikings, and told a child-friendly version of Sigmund and Sinfjötli (yes, there is such a thing as child-friendly gore). During the following break, I started getting signals that I had hit the kids' limit of "scary" sooner than I expected - a little girl asked me to not do anything "scarier than these," and a boy confessed that he might have nightmares if I tell about ghosts. Now, the mummy story I planned is not only allegedly a true event, but it is also truly terrifying - I was pretty sure it would max out the "they won't sleep for days" category, which might cause trouble for the camp leaders.
With that in mind, I made a judgment call. I told the kids that some people are scared of things, and others are scared of others; I didn't want to tell something horrible and make anyone feel bad. Instead I offered to tell them an adventure tale that just happened to be about Fear. I could see the shier kids relax, and the louder ones settled for adventure instead of horror.
I told the Red Lion, and it worked like a charm as usual. After the story, several kids came up to me to talk, and I stayed around for a while as the campfire died down and the leaders set up for the nighttime game. Some kids wanted to know if the stories were true; I talked to them about why people tell stories, and what we can learn from each. Some of them still demanded 'scarier' tales, but the telling time had passed; we had a conversation about dragons instead.

All in all, it was a fun gig, even if it didn't go quite the way I planned. I think the concept of "scary" stories meant something else for the leaders than what I had in my repertoire - I don't do jump tales at all. I am not a horror person, but if I go Halloween, I go for the chills.

Storytelling in Sarmatia: Archaeology Day in Hungary

Every year in the spring Hungary celebrates Archaeology Day: Museums and other archeo-related institutions organize events for the public to make the occupation seem less mysterious. They open up labs and storage rooms, and educate people through letting them touch things they would normally only see through glass.
(Artifacts. I mean the artifacts.)

This year, since I got home in time to participate, I landed a gig with the Damjanich János Museum in Szolnok, who were planning a Sarmatian theme for their program. The city lies in a part of Hungary that used to be Sarmatian territory back in the good old Roman times, and pretty much any time someone puts a shovel down, Sarmatian stuff starts jumping out. I have always loved Sarmatians, and I had three good reasons to be excited for the gig:
1. I already had a period dress ready, courtesy of my Sarmatian SCA persona (follow the link for an awesome blog on the topic);
2. The gig involved telling Ossetian Nart sagas, on the account of the historical, ethnic and cultural relations between the Ossetians and the Sarmatians, and I freaking love those stories;
3. One of my best friends and former Archaeology classmate works at the museum, and I got a chance to see her.

I arrived to the museum with a pretty nasty cold, but my friend and the rest of the staff took excellent care of me. I got a place to rest, and tea, and food, and volunteers to usher people in and out of the storytelling space. Everyone was super excited for the stories, and they paid a lot of compliments to my dress reconstruction, which made me feel proud, since it came from people who deal with Sarmatian things on a daily basis. My friend, who presented the "Artifact Petting Zoo" portion of the program, even invited me to show the dress off to people as an illustration.
The first round of storytelling was the program for children titled "Giants, heroes, and tricksters." Since all the kids immediately got stuck at the "archaeology sandbox" digging feverishly for finds, the program started a little late. A little boy arrived first with his grandma, and was very shy; but once I started telling him a story, other flocked in too, and eventually I had a neat little audience of 15 or 20 people.  I told my favorite Nart story, in which the heroes dig up the bones of an ancient giant and bring him back to life to learn about how people lived in the past. If there has ever been a fitting story for Archaeology Day, this one was it. I also told the tale where the Narts go adventuring and they all get stuck in magical chairs, just to be rescued by Sirdon the Trickster before a bunch of giants eat them. I love this story not only for the humor, but also because it is a clear parallel to one of my favorite Irish Fianna legends, The Hostel of the Quicken Trees.

The second round was supposed to be stories for adults, but since it was still early in the afternoon, many people brought their kids with them anyway. I didn't mind. They were very well behaved, and sat in the front row with eyes wide, reacting to the stories with gasps and giggles and noises of wonder. The adult program was titled "The Time of Heroes," and it drew an audience of at least 30-40 people, including most of the museum staff.

This time I had more time, and an audience with a longer attention span (since I was the last program, they had nowhere else to rush). I first told the Birth of Soslan, and how he was tempered in wolf's milk (the incident I mentioned here). Then I told the story of how Soslan saved his mother Satana from the Lake of Hell and how he was accepted as the greatest hero of the Narts (ironically, not for saving her, but for failing to save her, because he stopped to help people along the way who were in greater need). I told the fun little bit about Satana and her husband Urizmag getting a divorce - a folktale type when the wife can take what's "dearest to her" from the household, and she takes her sleeping husband (this one is so popular they even used it in a movie). After this we circled back to Soslan winning a wife through a dance-off (also mentioned on the link above). The kids loved this one. At this point the audience stared asking for "one more story!" every time I finished one, which is the greatest compliment a storyteller can get. I told a short funny story about Sirdon the Trickster tricking the Narts when they tried to bully him.

In the end, I decided to jump into the tale of Alimbeg's Daughter - the sex-change story I posted about last week. The audience listened with keen interest, and the lyrical nature of the tale seemed to carry everyone along. They seemed more shocked by Alimbeg having seven wives (a man even muttered "poor guy") than his daughter turning into a man, actually. I chose option 3 from my musings - but the story, when told, needed a lot less tweaking than I expected. It also probably helped with the adults that I told them Hungarians have the same story in tradition - it sounded less foreign that way.

All in all, it was a dream gig. I got to tell stories that I love to people who appreciated them, and especially children who were completely enchanted. I got to do it in a museum that holds artifacts that appear in the stories, wearing a dress that evoked the people who probably told the same tales two thousand years ago.
And Night of the Museums is only three weeks away!

T is for Thidrek of Bern (Epics from A to Z)

If you like Norse sagas, King Arthur legends, and Alternate Universe fan fiction, then you will like this epic.

Origins
The group of legends centered on Thidrek (Dietrich) of Bern is German in origin. The particular collection discussed here, known as the Thidrekssaga, however, was probably written down somewhere in Scandinavia (although scholars can't agree if the writer was German or Norse). The English translation is almost 300 pages long (in extremely small print). The saga is usually dated around 1250, the high time of romances of chivalry... and boy does it deliver.

The Heroes

The story is essentially a mash-up of German legends such as the Niebelungenlied, some Norse sagas, stories of Attila the Hun, and a great dose of Arthurian pomp. It features several historical names, but in the end, it is a product of chivalric fiction.
In the center stands King Thidrek of Bern (Dietrich of Verona), who is often equated with the historical king Theoderic the Great. Around him gather the great names of German legends: his mentor Hildibrand (who can still kill ten young warriors in combat when he is over a hundred years old), Siegfried (the invulnerable dragon-killing hero of the Niebelungenlied), Heimir (who is not a nice person, but great with horses), Vidga (the white-haired half-mermaid son of Wayland the Smith - he is essentially the Lancelot of the bunch), Sistram of Fenidi (who joins the team after they fish him out of a dragon's mouth), Thetleif the Dane (who is not very smart, but very strong), Vildifer (who can and does pass for a live bear in combat), Herbrand the Far-Traveler (the diplomat of the team), Ekka and Fasold (the stereotypical red-haired identical twins, one a friend and one an enemy), Högni (the one-eyed, grumpy half-elf knight) (yeah, you read that right), Sifka (the traitor) and Earl Hornbogi (the handsome one).
Impressed yet?
Add Attila the Hun to the mix (he's best friends and allies with Thidrek), and you have a vague idea of the lineup you will meet in this story.
(There is an entire chapter devoted to what each of them look like, how they dress, and what their coat of arms is. They also all get their own backstories.)

Highlights
While a huge part of the saga is taken up by very detailed duels and epic battles, it also has a lot of other delightful bits going for it. For example:

1. The duel between Thidrek and Ekka (the evil twin). They meet in the woods at night, and neither can see the other. After Ekka taunts Thidrek with how superior his weapons are, they decide to fight. Thidrek strikes sparks on rocks with his sword to see where his opponent is, and they fight in the flashing light of sparks flying from their blades. Now there's a visual.
2. The scene where Thidrek and Fasold find a dragon on a clearing. The dragon is in the process of devouring Sistram, whose head and shoulders are still free. He yells instructions at the two knights on how to kill a dragon, one of which is "Don't cut its neck! My legs are way down its throat..."
3. The time young Thetleif defeats an older knight (who rides an elephant) and after the duel they become friends and go home together. When the daughter of the old knight sees her father wounded, she yanks Thetleif off his horse and throws him down with a force that would kill a normal man. Of course they fall in love later.
4. The time Vildifer dresses up as a bear and sneaks into the enemy's castle to rescue the imprisoned Vidga. The enemy king doesn't realize there is something wrong with the dancing-bear performance until the bear draws a sword... At which point the king comments "That's a well trained bear!" (Famous last words)
5. The time Vidga kills a giant in single combat, and then covers himself in the giant's blood and rides back to his friends, pretending to be mortally wounded. Everyone panics, and Vidga laughs his bloody ass off.
6. There is a version of Tristan and Iseult's legend in here - Herburt and Hild - and it has a happy ending. That in itself made me so happy...
7. There is a battle where one of the kings is helped by his wife, the sorceress Queen Ostasia. She summons an army of lions, bears and dragons. The entire chapter is just one big battle scene between knights and combat dragons. I was having some serious Maleficent flashbacks.
8. When King Thidrek gets angry, he literally breathes fire. He only uses it once in combat, though.
9. This line: "King Hertnid rode at the dragon more out of honor than out of wisdom." (He gets devoured)
10. The time Heimir becomes a monk, and then decides to return to being a knight when a giant threatens the monastery. The monks tell him they already broke down his sword and used it for door hinges (it's one of the three magic swords in the saga). Heimir almost gets a stroke.
11. The time Earl Iron gets so obsessed with hunting that his wife feels neglected. Finally she goes out into the fresh snow and rolls around naked, leaving boob-prints all around the castle. Then she goes back to her husband and says "I have seen the tracks on a very rare new prey around the castle. If you don't hunt it soon, some other man will."

(This saga was definitely one of my favorites I read for this challenge.)

J is for the Jómsvikings (Epics from A to Z)

Short version: The Jómsvikings are the Avengers of the 10th century.
More accurately: The Avengers are the Jómsvikings of the 21st century.

The Jómsvíkinga Saga is an Icelandic saga written sometime in the 13th century. It takes place in Denmark, Norway, Wales, and Jómsborg, and ends with the Battle of Hjörungavárg in 986 AD. It details the (long and complex) family background, deeds, and eventual downfall of a group of select Viking heroes known as the Jómsvikings. Much like the Fianna of Ireland, they are a brotherhood of elite warriors, the best of the best, not admitted based on anything else but bravery and personal prowess. Both of which there is a lot to go around in this story.

The Heroes
The heroes of the saga are the Jómsvikings, living in their own walled city (Jómsborg) under strict rules - men only, loyalty to each other, no preferential treatment, equal distribution of booty, that kinda stuff. The founder of the place is Pálna-Tóki, and after his death Sigvaldi, who is not as good a leader, and manages to let the whole thing crumble on a drunken bet (great job, Sigvaldi).
One of the most notable characters is Vagn, who shows up at the water-gates of Jómsborg at the ripe old age of twelve, demanding entry into the brotherhood. He is refused on grounds of creeping everyone out, and also the fact that he is underage (rules only allow membership to men between eighteen and fifty). He proceeds to soundly beat Sigvaldi in a naval battle, and gains admission anyway.

Highlights
Apart from your usual run-of-the-mill fighting and pillaging, the saga offers a few remarkable moments, especially towards the end. They mostly involve fighting:
1. Much of the end of the saga (I'm not giving out spoiler alerts here, the story has been out since the 13th century, deal with it) involves the captured Jómsvikings being executed by their enemies. It is a fascinating lineup of warriors going to their death, each one making a different joke or proposing fun little experiments. One of them insists that his long and fabulous hair has to remain clean and intact; then, just when the executioner swings the sword, he yanks his head down, and the sword takes off the arms of the man who had been holding the hair out of the way. The kid (barely 18) looks up and asks with a shit-eating grin: "Whose hands are in my hair...?" He gets to live, Vikings appreciate a good practical joke.
2. Another battle-related moment of epic is delivered by Búi, one of the Jómsvikings, who loses both his hands in the last battle of the company. Instead of being fazed by this at all, he puts the arm-stumps through the hoops of a chest of gold, and jumps overboard with it, transforming into a dragon.Yup.
3. And still on the topic of lost appendages - I'm sensing a theme here, you guys - there is some bravery on the opposite side as well: Geirmundr, the commander of a town attacked by the Jómsvikings, jumps out of a building, gets an arm cut off by Vagn, and then manages to run through the woods all the way to the earl's court to warn him of the impending danger. He does it in a calm, collected and professional manner, reporting on numbers first, before the earl asks him if he has any proof. To which Geirmundr responds, "Oh yeah, they cut off my arm, see?" and follows up by providing information on the enemy's best warriors. "One of them got my ring."

Ain't no party like a Jómsborg party.

The Real Jómsborg
Although contested by some historians and archaeologist, it is generally believed that Jómsborg stood somewhere in the place of modern day Wolin, Poland. Every year the town celebrates this fact with Europe's largest Viking festival, involving historical reenactors from all corners of the continent and beyond. Definitely worth a visit.

H is for King Harald's Saga (Epics from A to Z)

Aand we are back to the Vikings.

Origins
King Harald's Saga is part of the Heimskringla, a collection of sagas telling the history of Norway, written by the Icelander Snorri Sturluson at the end of the 12th century. It is also hands down one of my favorite sagas. If you want to read it, you can get it in its own edition, complete with family trees, great footnotes, and a detailed introduction.

The Hero

The hero of the saga is King Harald Sigurdsson, also known as Harald Hardrada ("firm ruler"), king of Norway between 1046 and 1066 AD. He is known for being the guy who wore Harold Godwinson out with a battle up North so Harold could not stand against William the Conqueror a week later, and hence... well, English history.
Harald is known throughout the saga as tall, blonde, handsome, brave, smart, and dangerously easy to anger. He spends most of his time plundering as a good Viking does, but also runs his kingdom with a firm hand, which ultimately leads him to lose some of his best supporters to rival kings such as his great nemesis, King Svein of Denmark. However, one can't help but admire Harald, his skill in battle, and his creativity when it comes to coming out of hopeless situations with a victory.

The Highlights
My favorite part of the saga is definitely Harald's early years. Between the ages of fifteen and thirty, he lives in exile (he takes part at fifteen in the battle where his half-brother, Saint Olaf, dies in his attempt to force Norway into Christianity). Harald spends his formative years as the commander of the Varangian Guard in Byzantium, being envied by Greek generals and lusted after by the infamous Empress Zoe (and her daughter). He ends up in prison, but breaks out, and manages a daring escape across the chain blockade of the Constantinople harbor.
The saga includes many great battle scenes through Harald's career as king, but I especially like the shorter anecdotes about him getting out of sticky situations. For example, the one where he lands with his fleet on an abandoned island and can't find fresh water to drink. He tells his soldiers to catch a snake and put it near a fire; when the snake dries out and needs water, they tie a yarn to its tail, and follow it as the snake slithers away to a secret source of water.
Apart from Harald, some of the other characters are worth mentioning as well. King Svein is a worthy enemy all through the story, a brave yet reasonable man with great skills for survival. The chapter where he gets away alive after losing a nighttime naval battle to Harald is one of the best parts in the saga.

B is for Bosi and Herraud (Epics from A to Z)

Warning: The original text of this saga includes graphic sexual content.
(Try not to trip over yourself)

Origins
The Saga of Bosi and Herraud is a Norse legendary saga that mainly takes place in Götaland (modern day southern Sweden) and was written sometime before 1350 AD. It ties into other sagas as well - for example, the story of Ragnar Lothbrok, recently known as this guy from the History Channel:

The Heroes
The central bromance to the story is between Herraud, the heir to the throne with minor daddy issues (since his bastard brother gets all of the affections of King Hring); and Bosi, the daredevil love child of a former Viking raider and a crippled shield-maiden (yup). These two hit it off like a house on fire, and when Bosi kills and maims a couple of people in a friendly ball game (happens between friends) and gets himself exiled, Herraud decides to go with him.
After five years of leisurely plunder the foster-brothers return home, and Bosi does his buddy a favor by killing the (agreeably annoying) bastard brother. At first the king wants to have both of them executed, but he can't bring himself to give the death order of his own heir, so he takes a page from fairy tales and decides to give them an impossible task instead, sending them off to bring him a vulture's egg inscribed with golden letters.
Adventures ensue.

The Highlights
The saga features two epic battles:
1. Bosi and Herraud versus Giant Vulture Monster and Troll Priestess (In which there is a generous amount of stabbing, slipping on blood, losing body parts and rolling around on the floor)
2. Bosi and Herraud versus People Whose Daughter/Sister They Had Kidnapped Along The Way (In which there is a sea battle where people transform at random into dragons, boars, and wolfhounds, and jump from ship to ship. Also, Herraud gets his nipples torn off. Ick.)

The Absolute Undisputed Best Moment of the Saga,
however, is the afterword: Once every battle is won and the adventures are over, Herraud and Bosi both become kings and start their own families. Herraud has a little daughter, Thora (who will later become the first wife of Ragnar, sadly not mentioned in the TV show). The magical vulture egg decides to hatch and produces a small, gold-colored baby dragon. The king gives the baby dragon to Thora as a teething toy.
Think about it.
A princess. Teething. On a dragon.
Viking metal.

10 reasons why the Nart epics are epic

I spent most of last week reading the 500-page Hungarian edition of the Ossetian Nart sagas. It was a special treat for a lot of reasons.
While a huge chuck of the Nart corpus has been published in English in the wonderful translation of John Colarusso, the Ossetian sagas, which some people argue are the original Iranian core of the epics, have yet to be translated. In the meantime, archaeologists of the Sarmatian era (an Iranian people related to the ancestors of the Narts) in Hungary have presented an amazing translation.
The Nart sagas tell us about a group of legendary heroes who essentially are one big, sometimes dysfunctional, over-powered badass family. There is a matriarch on top (Satana), and about four generations of archers, lovers, fighters, and even the mandatory trickster. The stories are not less complex or engaging than any other epic from around the world - yet they are a lot less well known.
So, here is a sampling of the epic that is the Ossetian Nart sagas:

1. Two heroes having a dance-off for the hand of a lady.
It's a refreshing change from people beating each other into the ground (which also happens a lot). Dancing happens on the blades of swords, with a bowl of water on one's head, and also on the feast tables around the food (and this was the only way I could picture it).

2. This story ending, after the hero wins the hand of a lady: "And they lived very happily for a while. But they realized that they were too different, and they decided to go their separate ways." Peaceful divorce ever after. Good for them.

3. This prophecy one hero comes by in the Underworld (which, by the way, is also a place that gives Dante a run for his laurels): "One day men and women will live peacefully as equals."
Important words from a culture where kidnapping wives was common practice at the time.

4. There is a God of Wolves called Tutir. I rest my case.

5. Sirdon the Trickster, Curse of the Narts. Dog person, single father of three. Pretty much described (accurately for a trickster) as "the Narts can't live with him, can't live without him." He is very close to Loki in attitude, but he is bullied way worse than the Norse trickster. Looks like the Narts torture him for kicks. To which he responds with nasty mischief of his own. Very layered character.

6. The practicality of the tale when Satana wants to tamper a newborn and red-hot hero baby in wolf milk (as you do), and her husband's response is: "Where the heck am I supposed to get wolf milk?!" He then goes on to ask for the help of the Mother of Dogs, and she herds a couple of hundred she-wolves into a pen. To which our hero responds: "Umm... okay, now how am I supposed to milk them?"
And really no one ever responds "Hey, we are in a mythical saga, it will just magically happen!"
Nope. He milks them with his own two hands.

7. The Nart hero Hamic has a Mustache of Steel.
That he kills a snake with. Enough said.

8. The time the Narts got God on a technicality: God cursed them saying that no matter how much wheat they work a day, it will only amount to one bucket of grain. So they started only working a handful of wheat each day, and they still got a full bucket out of it. Sheer brilliance.

9. Smart woman moments such as "I am not marrying you, hero of the Narts, because your mother is evil" or "If you don't leave my tower right now, I will put your eyes out with my scissors." Nart women might not be equal to their heroes, but they sure do run things in the background. And they do raise a raiding army every once in a while.

10. The moment one hero explains how he learned not to hurt women: He tells his companions of a time when he was a guest in a house where only women lived (men were away) and he overheard them talking among themselves in a language they didn't know he spoke. He listened to their conversations and learned from them. In the adventure he claims that he would never hurt a woman for making a mistake (namely, even for cheating!) because he listened and now he knows better.

I'll have to read the sagas over again to fully savor every awesome detail. It is definitely a repeat read.