I TOOK UP THE RUNES: THE
SPELLS OF ODIN IN HAVAMAL
In
the Norse Eddic poem “Havamal”, the god Odin cryptically refers to eighteen
magical songs or spells meant to be used in conjunction with the runes. These songs have been variously interpreted
in the past, and different runes or combinations of runes have been applied to
each. Unfortunately, as is true of Guido
von List’s “Armanen” system (see http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Armanen_runes),
mystical or intuitive approaches have failed to yield any convincing
analyses. Some more rationalistic
attempts have shown promise in their methodology, but have also produced dubious
conclusions.
What
follows is my own brief attempt to grapple with the problem posed by the
eighteen Havamal songs. My method is
rather simple: begin by explaining why there appear to be 18 runes referred to
when we know the Younger Futhark or runic alphabet of the time was comprised of
16 letters, and then, once that is accomplished, properly assign one rune to
each spell.
I
will begin with the 18th runic song.
Note that the translations offered here are from the Carolyne Larrington
version of the Poetic Edda.
163
I know an
eighteenth, which I shall
never teach to
any girl or man’s wife—
it’s always
better when just one person knows,
that follows
at the end of the spells—
except one
woman whom my arms embrace,
or who may be
my sister.
The
rune meant to attend this charm, as the context makes clear, is a so-called
“secret rune”. Secret runes were used to
send or record coded messages. One rune
could be arbitrarily chosen to represent the meaning of another or the rune
could actually be altered in appearance to take on a wholly new meaning, one
known only to the originator of the coded text.
As such, this spell is not meant to be included in the 16 letter
futhark, but is instead to be considered an “extra” rune whose nature cannot
possibly be revealed.
This
leaves us with 17 songs. Fortunately, we
know that the fourth letter of the Younger Futhark, /a/, could have two
meanings. It could represent ass, ‘god’
(perhaps, in particular, Odin himself), or it could stand for oss, ‘estuary,
mouth’. If we allow for both of these
definitions for /a/ being found in the eighteen spells, which we have already
reduced to seventeen, then we would be permitted to claim that, in reality,
only sixteen runes belong to Havamal.
[The
/u/ rune in the Younger Futhark means ‘slag, drizzle’, but in the Elder Futhark
it appears to have been defined as “aurochs”, the wild ancestor of domestic
cattle. I don’t think this meaning was
still significant for the inhabitants of late medieval Iceland, and probably it
was no longer even recognized. Domestic
cattle as a measurement of wealth fell under the /f/ rune, and the Icelandic Runic
Poem specifically describes /u/ as “lamentation of the clouds and ruin of the
hay-harvest and abomination of the shepherd.”]
Assuming
this to be true, I will proceed with an examination of the remaining seventeen
spells.
146
I know those
spells which a ruler’s wife doesn’t know,
nor any man’s
son;
‘help’ one is
called,
and that will
help you
against
accusations and sorrows
and every
sort of anxiety.
This,
of course, is for the /n/ or naudr rune, ‘need, necessity, distress’.
147
I know a
second one which the sons of men need,
those who
want to live as physicians.
The /k/ or
kaun rune, ‘sore, ulcer.’
148
I know a
third one which is very useful to me,
which fetters
my enemy;
the edges of
my foes I can blunt,
neither weapon
nor club will bite for them.
The
/t/ or Tyr rune, said in the literature to have been applied to blades. We can assume that such a rune would have an
apotropaic function against the enemy in addition to providing power and
resilience to one’s own weapons.
149
I know a
fourth one if men put
chains upon
my limbs;
I can chant
so that I can walk away,
fetters
spring from my feet,
and bonds
form my hands.
The
‘fetters’ referred to here are usually thought of as the battle-fear that
freezes a person, immobilizing them even if just for a split second so that
they can more easily be dispatched. For
this reason I would say the appropriate rune is /i/, ‘ice’.
150
I know a
fifth if I see, shot in malice,
a dart flying
amid the army,
it cannot fly
so fast that I cannot stop it
if I see it
with my eyes.
The
word dart here (flein in the Old Norse text) means also shaft, pike and the
like, and so we must look for a corresponding potentially damaging natural
force that could mimic such a weapon.
Hail is our best bet, and so I would risk attaching the /h/ rune to this
spell. Poetic kennings often refer to
missile weapons in terms of weather phenomena, as in ‘hail of battle’.
151
I know a
sixth one if a man wounds me
with the
roots of the sap-filled wood:
and that man
who conjured to harm me,
the evil
consumes him, not me.
The
/y/ or ‘yew, yew bow’ rune. The yew in
European tradition is the tree of death.
152
I know a
seventh one if I see towering flames
in the hall
of my companions:
it can’t burn
so widely that I can’t counteract it,
I know the
spells to chant.
Water
is the opposing element to fire, so the rune for this song is /l/, ‘water’.
153
I know an
eighth one, which is most useful
for everyone
to know;
where hatred
flares up between the sons of warriors,
then I can
quickly bring settlement.
The
most commonly cited cause of such strife is gold or wealth (also cattle), and
so the /f/ rune belongs here. Wergild
was money offered for settlement in the case of a slaying and payment could
also be offered to compensate for other slights involving personal or family
honor.
154
I know a
ninth one if I am in need,
if I must
protect my ship at sea;
the wind I
can lull upon the wave
and [sic]
quieten all the sea to sleep.
The
wind in the primitive, pre-scientific mind was related to breath, and for this
reason I would tentatively place the first /a/ rune here, i.e. ‘estuary or
mouth’, as the breath is drawn in and out of the mouth.
155
I know a tenth
one if I see witches
playing up in
the air;
I can bring
it about that they can’t make their way back
to their own
shapes
to their own
spirits.
The
/u/ rune is ‘slag, drizzle’. By drizzle
here is meant cold rain that freezes upon contact with the ground. Slag, of course, is similar in the sense that
it is a by-product of the ore smelting process that runs off in liquid form
only to harden when it cools. If we
metaphorically view the spirits of the witches as being transformed into
drizzle, then they have effectively been prevented from returning home to their
bodies (which would be lying in trance).
156
I know an
eleventh one if I have to lead
loyal friends
into battle;
under the
shields I chant, and they journey inviolate,
safely to the
battle
safely from
the battle
safely they
come everywhere.
The
shield in Norse mythopoeic language is referred to as the sun. So the /s/ rune, ‘sun’, belongs here.
157
I know a
twelfth one if I see, up in a tree,
a dangling
corpse in a noose:
I can so
carve and colour the runes
that the man
walks
and talks
with me.
Odin’s
“riding” on the gallows-tree Yggdrasill, and poetic use of “riding” for men on
the “horse” known as the gallows-tree,
strongly suggests the rune for this song should be /r/, ‘ride, a
riding’.
158
I know a
thirteenth if I shall pour water
over a young
warrior:
he will not
fall though he goes into battle,
before swords
he will not sink.
One
might think this is for water, the /l/ rune, but given the emphasis on youth we
can point to the letter /b/ for ‘birch’, a tree in European tradition that
symbolized birth and beginnings. Here
the young warrior should be seen as being “watered” like a new birth tree. In the poetic kennings, warriors are often
likened to trees. The first man and
woman in the world were created from trees.
159
I know a
fourteenth if I have to reckon up [give the number of]
the gods
before men:
Æsir and
elves, I know the difference between them,
few who are
not wise know that.
The
other /a/ rune, namely ‘ass’ or “god [= Odin?]”. It is Odin as the triune god who in Snorri
Sturlusson’s “Gylfaginning” enumerates and describes the gods.
160
I know a
fifteenth, which the dwarf Thiodrerir
chanted
before Delling’s doors:
powerfully he
sang for the Æsir and before the elves,
wisdom to
Sage.
Delling,
whose name may mean ‘the shining one’ (see Rudolf Simek’s Dictionary of
Northern Mythology), is here chanting before the doors of the mountain or
barrow, both being symbolic of the earth into which heavenly bodies pass, seed
is planted and to which men go in death
- and from which all is ultimately reborn. In fact, Thiodrerir has been etymologized as
‘the famous one in the burial mound’ (see again Simek). The song is probably for a plentiful harvest,
a good year, and thus a fertility charm.
The letter /a/ (for ar, not ass), ‘good harvest, plenty’, can be linked
to this song. See H.R. Ellis Davidson’s “Myths and Symbols in Pagan Europe” (p.
104) for the spirit known as the ar-madr in Icelandic saga. This scholar says: “ar means harvest or season,
and the implication is that the being in the stone could bring about a
prosperous harvest.”
161
I know a
sixteenth if I want to have all
a clever
woman’s heart and love-play:
I can turn
the thoughts of the white-armed woman
and change
her mind entirely.
We
know from the Eddic poem “Skirnismal” that the /th/ rune, ‘thurs’ or ‘giant’,
causes “lust” and “burning” and “unbearable need” to women (or at least to
goddesses!). For that reason, we can
place that letter here.
162
I know a
seventeenth, so that scarcely any
young girl
will want to shun me…
This
is the ‘m’ or ‘man’ rune, the symbol of male virility. The idea is, obviously, that young women
cannot resist handsome, strong, well-endowed men, who are the human incarnation
of the god, just as the woman is the avatar of the goddess.
It
might, of course, be possible to arrange the runic letters differently in
accordance with the “Havamal” songs. It
is also quite possible that instead of one runic letter being designated by
each song, there originally were entire runic formulas composed of multiple
letters, a phrase or even entire sentences.
If either of these alternatives hold true, then what I have offered
above is quite worthless. My suggestions
are just that and sometimes a ‘best guess’ is merely a method for deriving the
wrong answer to an unfathomable riddle.
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