| (no subject) |
[Nov. 15th, 2009|09:48 pm] |
We are involved in resuscitating, not just a group of gods, but an entire worldview, one with which we were not raised, and for which we have no other teachers but ourselves. Success in this venture requires more than merely proclaiming that we have succeeded, more than simply changing to whom we address our prayers.
In order to succeed in this venture, we must fully understand the entire history of the worldview in which we were raised, all of the developments that led to its ideas concerning how things are, as well as the entire history of the worldview we are attempting to adopt and all of its own developments along the same vein. Only then, when we have full knowledge of both, can we compare them side by side and, within ourselves, exchange the one for the other. |
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| Ernte |
[Sep. 5th, 2009|11:42 am] |
Wôld! Wôld! Wôld!
Hävenhüne weit wat schüt
Jümm hei dal vun häve süt.
Vulle kruken un sängen het hei,
Upen holte wässt manigerlei.
Hei is nig barn un wert nig old,
Wôld! Wôld! Wôld!
Wôde! Wôde!
Hal dinem rosse nu foder,
Nu distel un dorn,
Ächter jar, beter korn! |
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| academic disagreement |
[Jun. 16th, 2009|10:21 am] |
This article (http://journal.oraltradition.org/files/articles/19i/Harris.pdf) has some interesting things to say, but I find that I disagree with the author's conclusions that the myth of the building of the walls of Asgard was originally not a myth at all, but rather a variant of the Masterbuilder folktale that Snorri intentionally inserted into a mythic context.
While it seems obvious that the Masterbuilder theme and the myth related by Snorri are connected somehow, I don't know that it is as simple as the author suggests. There's an Irish parallel to this myth that has some important parallels. Macha (or Medb, I don't remember exactly) seduces a number of workmen into the woods, where she then forces them to build a fortress. The parallels to the myth related by Snorri are these: the fortress itself, and seduction of part or all of the team of builders by a figure with equine associations; Loki in mare form seducing the stallion Svaðilfari in Snorri, Medb/Macha (the Irish reflex of the goddess named Epona, among other names, in Gaul) seducing the workers one by one in the Irish variant. There may be other parallels as well, but I don't have the Irish story in front of me for comparison.
There is no parallel to the giant builder in the Irish version, and the seduction has a different purpose in each: to gain the builders for the construction in the Irish story, and to halt the construction in Snorri.
My hypothesis is that the original Germanic version of the myth may have been closer to the Irish version, but that Snorri did not understand the material (perhaps he didn't have a complete version of the myth), and "filled in" with the Masterbuilder theme, while maintaining the important feature of seduction by an equine figure. |
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| We. Carry. Death. Out of the Village... |
[Apr. 9th, 2009|11:19 am] |
So treiben wir den Winter aus
durch uns're Stadt zum Tor hinaus,
und jagen ihn zu Schanden
hinweg aus uns'ren Landen!
Wir stürzen ihn von Berg und Thal
damit er sich zu Tode fall'
und uns nicht mehr betrüge
mit seinen späten Züge!
Nun Winter haben wir ausgetrieben
so bringen wir den Sommer herwieder,
den Sommer und den Maien
und Blümlein mancherleien! |
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| Wann werden sie endlich Deutsch sprechen? |
[Feb. 6th, 2009|10:56 am] |
So, as my friends know, I speak to my sons almost exclusively in German (that is, always except when I'm too frustrated to think; then I speak Texan). The boys are going to be turning 4 in April, and they have yet to speak German to me beyond short utterances when I prompt them.
Not being a native German speaker myself (unless you count the little I learned as a child), I have had to bust my ass to make sure that the German I speak to the boys is grammatically and idiomatically correct. The most complicated sentence I have gotten out of either of these verbose-in-English boys was: "Daß ist ein Zug!" ("That is a train!"), and that was this morning, after telling them repeatedly that they should speak German to me.
Honestly, for all the good it does, I might as well be talking to myself in German. The only thing it really seems to have done is to confuse the boys: they say "I became" instead of "I got" (in German, "ich bekam"); "it goes" instead of "it works" (in German, "es geht"), and so on.
In large part, I think this is the fault of the media they watch; they seem to have lost any interest in speaking German around the time they started watching Sesame Street. In the end, I suppose it's my fault for letting them.
But it's easier to blame the lack of German children's programming readily available. |
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| Grønbech's "The Culture of the Teutons" |
[Jan. 20th, 2009|12:17 pm] |
I'm almost finished with volume 2, and I feel I need to say something about the book. I have enjoyed it greatly, and I think that his ideas concerning luck, soul, vengeance, "clan", and so forth have merit, and deserve to be looked at in-depth.
HOWEVER,
At a certain point, particularly when talking about ritual structure, and from there, mythology and theology, he goes off in directions that, unfortunately, cast a shadow over the better parts of the book. Here's a paragraph that struck me in particular:
"The handful of titles which can be culled from northern sources is swelled by the indications sometimes lying hidden in local names and still more by monuments and classical texts relating to the tribes bordering on the Roman empire and often taking service in the legions of Rome; but failing all historical and mythological information, the names are to us but empty words. They may command interest insofar as they lend a faint tinge of colour to the picture we gather indirectly from popular literature of the clans and tribes worshipping, each within its own homestead and sanctuary, the powers of their fathers; and thus serve to dispel once and for all the chimera of a common Teutonic pantheon or a set of mythological tenets universal throughout the Teutonic territory."
To a certain extent, this is merely the result of his work being dated; the book was published in 4 volumes between 1909 and 1912. On the other hand, there was certainly already a good basis, particularly linguistically, for assuming a "common Teutonic pantheon," particularly after the groundbreaking work of Jacob Grimm, which predates Grønbech's work by some 30 years. Overall, this puts Grønbech in the same camp as the "primitivists" who want to reduce pre-Hellenic Roman religion to a series of taboos and "numina". Replace "numen" with "hamingja," and that's probably Grønbech's theory of Germanic religion in a nutshell.
And that is just disappointing, especially considering how interesting the book was up to this point. |
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| A little bit of Löns |
[Jan. 19th, 2009|01:40 pm] |
Das OsterfeuerÜber die Heide ging ich, die Heide so weit und so breit, Mürrische Worte raunte ins Ohr mir die Einsamkeit.
Raunte von toten Zeiten, da hier noch der Urstier zog, Über dem Bruche der Adler himmelhoch kreisend flog; Da der Grauhund, der grimme, Mordrunen ließ im Sand, Da noch das Elch, das starke, fiel von des Jägers Hand.
Da noch nicht welsche Weise Gut in Böse verkehrt, Wode und Frigga, die Hehren, standen hochgeehrt; Da noch Mannesmut galt und nicht allein das Geld, Da mit dem blanken Schwert wahrte sein Recht der Held;
Nicht mit feigem Worte, und nicht mit billigem Eid; Also lehrte mich heimlich die Toteneinsamkeit.
Unsere Götter die hießen einstmals Liebe und Kraft, Kraft, die Leben erzeugt, Liebe, die Wonnen schafft.
Unser Gesetz war kurz, unser Gesetz war das: Liebe um Liebe, aber auch Haß um Haß.
Treuhand jedwedem Mann, der sich erwies als Freund, Bluthand dagegen dem Wicht, so sich da nahte als Feind.
Andere Zeiten zogen über das Heideland, Vor der tückischen Axt Wodes Lobewald schwand;
Frigga die freundliche Fraue wurde zur Hexe verkehrt, Jeglicher heilige Ort zur Greuelstätte entehrt;
Wodes edles Geflügel hieß Galgenvogel nun, Friggas schelmisches Eulchen schimpften sie Leichenhuhn;
Und die Dreizehn, die hohe Geheimniszahl, Unglücks- und Angstnummer wurd' sie mit einemmal.
Zwischen Eichen erhob sich ein einsames Strohdachhaus, Mährenhäupter reckte der moosige Giebel heraus;
Unter ihm aber nach freundlicher Altsitte noch Eingeschnitten als Herz starrte das Ulenloch.
An dem Missetürbalken, dem grauen, nach alter Weis' Eingehauen und bunt prangte der heilige Kreis,
Und die Sonnenrune, die gute, daneben auch, Nach der Urvorväter ernsthaft beharrlichem Brauch.
Rechts und links von der schwarzblanken Feuerwand Wodes Schlachtroß mutig sich bäumend stand;
Gleich als wollte es lauthals mir wiehern zu: Noch trage Wode ich, Freund, noch trauest Frigga du.
Weiter ging ich über das dämmernde Land, Hinter dem rund und rot das gute Gestirn verschwand;
Ihm gegenüber weit hinter dem bräunlichen Bruch Eine glührote Flamme zum sternleeren Himmel schlug;
Vor dem nachtschwarzen Wald weiß stieg der Rauch empor, Bis er im Abendgewölke sich langsam verlor.
Und ich stand und stand und sah nach dem Feuerschein, Hörte der Mädchen Gejuche, der Jungkerle gellendes Schrei'n,
Und ich lachte und dachte: der Urväter fröhliche Art Hat sich trotz alldem mein Volk immer noch treulich bewahrt.
Immerdar lobt es noch nach der Vorväter schönem Brauch Seinen Gott mit Glühglut und weißem Wirbelrauch.
Immer noch blieb es, wie es vor Urzeiten war, Blau von Auge und Sinn, hell von Herzen und Haar.
Immer noch hielt es sich am Leibe und Geiste stark, Immer noch blieben gesund ihm Bein und Blut und Mark.
Über die Heide ging ich, die Heide so weit und breit, Fröhliche Worte raunte ins Ohr mir die Einsamkeit.
Translation:
"The Easter-fire"
Over the heath I went, the heath so wide and broad
Surly words in my ear did loneliness whisper.
Whispered of dead times, when yet the primal bull marched here,
Over the marshes the eagle flew circling, heaven-high;
There the grey hound, the grim one, read murder-runes in the sand,
There yet the elk, the strong one, fell by the hunter's hand.
There the foreign ways do not yet turn good to ill,
Wode and Frigga, the exalted ones, stand highly honored;
There yet man's courage mattered and not money alone,
There with naked sword the hero warded his right;
Not with cowardly words, and not with cheap oath;
So taught me secretly the loneliness of the dead.
Our gods who, once upon a time, were called Love and Strength,
Strength, who begets life, Love, who shapes joys;
Our law was short, our law was this:
Love in return for love, but also hate in return for hate.
Troth-hand to each man who proved himself as a friend,
Blood-hand against the wight who drew himself near as an enemy.
Other times drew over the heathland,
Before the vicious ax vanished Wode's praise-forest;
Frigga the friendly lady was turned into a witch,
Each holy place dishonored into a horror-stead;
Wode's noble fowl was called "gallows-bird" now,
Frigga's sly little owl they scolded as "corpse-hen";
And the Thirteen, the high, secret number,
An ill-luck- and fear-number became, all at once.
Between oaks a lonely thatch-roofed house raised itself,
Horse-heads stretched out of the mossy gable;
Yet under it, according to friendly old custom,
cut in heart-shape, stared the owl-hole.
On the door-sill beam, the grey one, according to the old way,
Hewn-in and colorful shone the holy circle,
And the sun-rune, the good one, next to it also,
after the earliest forefathers' earnest, steadfast usage.
Right and left from the black-shining firewall
Wode's brave battle-horse stood rearing,
Just as though it wanted to whinny loud-throated to me:
"I still carry Wode, friend, thou still trustest Frigga."
Further I went over the dawning land,
Behind the round and red disappeared the good stars;
Over against them far behind the brownish marsh
A glow-red flame struck to the star-empty sky;
In front of the night-black forest white climbed the smoke high
Until it lost itself slowly in evening-clouds.
And I stood and stood and looked at the fire-light,
heard the maidens' shouts, the young men's bellowing cries,
And I laughed and thought: the forefathers' joyful ways
has my folk yet faithfully preserved despite all that.
Always yet it praises, after the forefathers' beautiful usage,
Its god with glow-fire and white whirl-smoke.
Ever yet it remains, as it was before earliest times,
Blue of eye and mind, light of heart and hair.
Ever yet it holds strong to love and spirit,
Ever yet remain strong its bone and blood and marrow.
Over the heath I went, the heath so wide and broad,
Joyful words in my ear did loneliness whisper.
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| Völsung and Völsi |
[Jan. 12th, 2009|09:21 am] |
It is apparent that the Völsungasaga contains many motifs that appear to have been adapted from the mythology of gods of the Third Function. Donald Ward discusses this somewhat in his book "The Divine Twins: An Indo-European Myth in Germanic Tradition." I think there are more parallels than he mentions, and perhaps someone should do an in-depth analysis comparing this saga to what we know about the myths concerning the Vanir and other Third-Functional gods.
In any case, I was struck the other evening by what might be a connection between the Völsungasaga and a mention of what appears to be a phallic cult in northern Norway, in the Völsa Þáttr. There, a household worships a preserved horse-penis under the name of Völsi, reciting verses (sometimes rather racy ones) over it every evening. It seems at least possible that this could have been a cult-object of Freyr, who is represented with a large penis and is associated with horses.
The name of Sigmundr's father in the Völsungasaga, Völsung, has puzzled me for years. The name seems to mean "descendant of Völs-", and was the name taken by the whole kin, rather than them calling themselves his descendants: *Völsung-ungar. I wonder if the name could mean "descendant of Völsi," with "Völsi" being a name for Freyr.
It also occurs to me that in Völsung's children, we see in Sigmundr and Signy a pair of twins who have an incestuous relationship, similarly to Njörðr and his sister among the Vanir; or Freyr and Freyja, according to the Lokasenna.
Food for thought. |
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| The origin of Man |
[Jan. 7th, 2009|12:31 pm] |
I recently re-read Puhvel's "Aspects of Equine Functionality" in Myth and Law Among the Indo-Europeans, and was struck by something from a bit of Indian mythology. There's a god, Vivasvant, whose wife is the goddess Saranyu. They have a son, Yama, after which Saranyu creates a double of herself, Savarna, and runs away in the form of a mare. Believing the double to be his wife, Vivasvant fathers Manu on her. He then perceives his mistake, and takes the form of a stallion in order to pursue Saranyu; when he catches up to her, they're both still in horse-form, and he fathers the twin Asvins on her, which is why they are sometimes in the form of horses themselves.
So, we know that Yama is the first to die, and it is probable that the giant who was sacrificed and dismembered to make the world - Prajapati or Purusha - is the same as Yama; Yama is cognate to Norse Ymir, both seeming to mean "twin," also the meaning of Tuisto in Tacitus' account. I don't know if this is directly attested in India, but he was likely sacrificed by his brother Manu, whose name means "man," and is cognate with "Mannus" in Tacitus. Yama, as the first to die, becomes the king of the world of the dead. Manu, the first man, becomes the first king.
Anyhow, this all suggests that mankind, as descended from Manu, is closely related to the original sacrificial macranthrope and king of the dead, as well as being closely related to the hippomorphic third-functional twins, which may be why Indra wanted to bar them from receiving soma-sacrifice in India's version of our War of the AEsir and Vanir. I think there's a reflection of this theme of barring from receiving sacrifice in Germanic religion: in Vsp. 24, the gods go to their seats and discuss: "eða skyldo goðin öll gildi eiga" or should all gods own tribute. (I should mention that Cleasy-Vigfusson translates "gildi eiga" as "mean[ing] to hold a feast, with the notion of making a league or peaceful agreement", but that interpretation is based solely on this selfsame passage, and may therefore be reading more into the words than is there.)
The really interesting part, to me, about the birth of the first Man, though, is that his father was a god, and his mother an illusion. This suggests to me an interesting perspective on the relative kinds of being that gods and men have, at least in India (although the notion may have gone back to Proto-Indo-European times, as well). In other words, man is related to the gods, his origin goes back to them, in part; but the reason that man fades, withers, and dies, the reason that he is not as "real," as gods are, that his being is not as powerful as theirs, is that his origin goes back also to an illusion. Man's being partakes of the illusory as well as of the divine, and *that* is the reason that man is how he is.
On a somewhat unrelated note, I'm currently translating Skírnismál. There's a word in stanza 33 that's frustrating me: "fyrinilla," in the phrase "in fyrinilla mær", 'the [something] maiden". If the second element in the word is "illa," then we have "the [something]-evil maiden". Anyone know what the hell "fyrinilla" means? Cleasby-Vigfusson is no help.
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| This is what I've been trying to say. |
[May. 4th, 2008|10:06 pm] |
" To appreciate the strength and the beauty of the culture of the ancient Teutons we must realise that their harmony is fundamentally unlike all that we possess or strive for, and consequently that all our immediate praising and blaming are futile. All things considered, we have little grounds for counting ourselves better judges than the classical onlookers. In our sentimental moments we lose ourselves in admiration of the heroism and splendid passion of our forefathers, but in our moments of historical analysis we pride ourselves on styling them barbarians, and this vacillation is in itself sufficient to show that in our appreciation we have not reached the centre whence the Teuton's thoughts and actions drew their life and strength. If we would enter into the minds of other peoples we must consent to discard our preconceived ideas as to what the world and man ought to be. It is not enough to admit a set of ideas as possible or even plausible: we must strive to reach a point of view from which these strange thoughts become natural; we must put off our own humanity as far as it is possible and put on another humanity for the time. We need, then, to begin quietly and modestly from the foundation, as knowing nothing at all, if we would understand what it was that held the souls of these men together, and made them personalities."
Vilhelm Grønbech, "The Culture of the Teutons" |
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| Poetry |
[Apr. 13th, 2008|10:11 pm] |
Out of the night that covers me,
Black as the Pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be
For my unconquerable soul.
In the fell clutch of circumstance
I have not winced nor cried aloud.
Under the bludgeoning of chance
My head is bloody, but unbowed.
Beyond this place of wrath and tears
Looms but the Horror of the shade,
And yet the menace of the years
Finds, and shall find me, unafraid.
It matters not how strait the gate,
How charged with punishments the scroll
I am the master of my fate:
I am the captain of my soul.
"Invictus" by William Ernest Henley |
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| A reified image |
[Apr. 13th, 2008|09:39 pm] |
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The image struck me even more strongly today, the image of what we are trying to do. We are on the edge of an abyss, and we cannot see anything that is in front of us. With all of our pieces of information, we are trying to build a bridge across that abyss; extending it, shoring it up, tearing down what is rickety or poorly executed. Bit by bit we make a bridge out into the gulf, whose width we do not know. And every now and then, in our rituals and practices, we stand on the leading edge of what we know, and stretch our hands out into the abyss, hoping to grasp something on the other side. And then we set to work again. |
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| Done been tagged |
[Feb. 7th, 2008|07:40 pm] |
I have been "tagged" to list seven quirky things about myself and to tag seven others.
Well,...
1. I talk to myself when I'm alone, especially when I'm in the car. I imagine that I'm explaining whatever I'm thinking about to someone. I find that this helps me get my ideas in order.
2. Linguistic research is, for me, a fun and relaxing activity. Seriously; most of the time, I'd rather do that than watch a movie.
3. When I was a long-haired and -bearded college student, I was once carrying a tree-sized piece of driftwood across an intersection. A child crossing in the opposite direction with his mother looked at me, pointed, and said: "Look, Mommy! A monster!" For some reason, this pleases me.
4. Ever since I was a small boy, I've been good at mimicking other people's accents. I often do it unconsciously, which led to an awkward moment once when a woman on the phone from London asked me if I was British.
5. I collect musical instruments. I also have dreams about musical instruments, some of which are impossible. I have plans to make a two-stringed lute that I saw in a dream once.
6. When I was younger, I collected writing systems; I still have a few binders full of carefully reproduced writing systems from around the world.
7. I have friends of widely different political- and world-views. I think if all of the people I knew were in a single room for very long, blood might well be spilled.
I don't have seven, but I hereby tag Hundur, Folcwald, Sena, and Anthony. |
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| Alphabet meme thing |
[Jan. 30th, 2008|10:15 am] |
[A is for age:]
32
[B is for booze of choice:]
Asbach, also Balvenie
[C is for career:]
Unpaid, live-in juvenile development engineer. Also volunteer researcher in studies for the improvement of heathenry.
[D is for your dog's name:]
I have a dog?
[E is for essential item you use everyday:]
Coffee Maker, aka Wake-o-tron; and telephone, aka Sanity Umbilicus
[F is for favorite song at the moment:]
Sonne-golthi Ade, done by Waldteufel
[G is for favorite games:]
Half-Life 2
[H is for Home town:]
Houston, TX
[I is for instruments you play:]
Germanic harp, pennywhistle, recorder, bowed psaltery, Swedish "birch-bark" flute, various drums, and I sing.
[J is for favorite juice?:]
Coffee
[K is for kids? :]
Two boys, future co-dictators.
[L is for last hug?:]
This morning, the two boys.
[M is for marriage:]
It'll be eight years in May.
[N is for Nickname:]
Nick. Also, so I hear, "H-dawg".
[O is for overnight hospital stays:]
None yet.
[P is for phobias:]
Spiders and monotheocracy.
[Q is for quote:]
"Beware, old man, you, are the one in danger. All of you. Don't think that the several generations which have passed since the Nazarene died count for more than an instant in eternity. The past does not cease because you ignore it. What you worship is evil. You have chosen division, cruelty, superstition. Well, I mean to stop the illness, to cut out the cancer, to strengthen the state... Now step aside, my good fellow, and let me pass." (Julian Augustus in Gore Vidal's "Julian")
[R is for biggest regret:]
Turning my back on a friend out of anger.
[S is for Superhero]
Georges Dumezil; he frightens squishy-brained Asatruar and obnoxious Marxist professors from beyond the grave. Oh! Also Batman.
[T is for time you woke up:]
7ish
[U is for underwear:]
Long.
[V is for vegetables you Love:]
Mushrooms and hot peppers.
[W is for worst habit:]
Staying up late on the computer when I should be in bed.
[X is for x-rays you've gotten:]
Fingers, toes, teeth.
[Y is for yummy food you make:]
Rouladen, Jägerschnitzel, barbecued pork-ribs.
[Z is for zodiac sign:]
Capricorn. |
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| Varuna & Woden |
[Dec. 9th, 2007|03:15 pm] |
"Varuna, sky god and archetype of the "Universal Sovereign", is also the god of the ocean, where serpents dwell, as the Mahabharata explains; he is the "king of serpents" (nagaraja) and the Atharva Veda even goes so far as to call him "viper".
Mircea Eliade, "Patterns in Comparative Religion" Ch. 12, "Morphology and Function of Myths"
- The association with water, cf. Wóden's bynames Nikarr/Hnikarr and Nikuðr/Hnikuz, which seem to have cognates in Anglo-Saxon nicor and Old High German nichus, both meaning "water-sprite, sea-monster".
- The association with snakes, specifically Wóden entering the mountain where Sutting kept the mead of poetry, in the form of a snake.
This is not entirely surprising, as Wóden and Varuna would seem to be cognate figures between their mythologies, but the sharing of these features would most likely be due to common inheritance from PIE religion. |
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| For all those who abhor sacrifice. |
[Dec. 3rd, 2007|09:37 pm] |
"Seven blunders of the world that lead to violence: wealth without work, pleasure without conscience, knowledge without character, commerce without morality, science without humanity, worship without sacrifice, politics without principle."
Mahatma Gandhi Now, Gandhi might not have meant it that way, but it's true all the same. And I don't have a problem with violence per se. I would instead say that these are seven blunders of the world that lead to decadence. |
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