Lögberg-Heimskringla


Lögberg-Heimskringla - 07.11.1997, Qupperneq 6

Lögberg-Heimskringla - 07.11.1997, Qupperneq 6
6 • Lögberg-Heimskringla • Friday, November 7, 1997 CZhILDREN’S CZorner THE ICELANDIC SAGAS By Prof. Pétur Sigurdsson, M.A. English translation by Bogi Bjarnason A , the Alþing, in the summer following the buming of | Bergthorshvol, the perpetrators were prosecuted at the bar Á. A. W of justice, but the case for the prosecution miscarried and a battle ensued on the Plain of Þingvalla. The forces of the defence gave pround and sought to carry the fight to the gorge (Almannagjá), but Snorri the priest stood in the way of their gaining this advantage. “Snorri then addressed Flosi (leader of the forces which committed the outrage): “Wherefore hasteth thou, or who pusueth thee?” Flosi replied: “Thy query is not pressed by reason of thy ignorance of the matter. Or is it of thy doing that we are denied access to the gorge?” “This is not of my doing,” replied Snorri, “but my admission shall be thine for the asking, that I know who bars the way — Thorvaldur Kroppinskeggi and Kolr.” The historian has, in this instance, missed the pointe humor in Snorri’s words, and seeks to convey his own interpretation of them. The saga adds: “They (Thorvaldur and Kolr) were at this time both dead, and both enjoyed reputations as the most pronounced villains of Flosi’s men.” This may be fitly classed as humor of a low order, but the historian has missed the true import of Snorri’s words. The matter is given another light by referring to Ari The Leamed’s account of how the Plain of Þingvalla became a public estate, nearly one hundred years prior to the events in review. “That man who possessed the farm at Bláskógum had been found guilty of slaying a housecarl or an erstwhile bondsman. His name was called Thorir Kroppinskeggi, and his daughter’s son, Thorvaldur Kroppinskeggi, who later went to Austfjordu and effected his own brother Gunnar’s death by firing his home and trapping him within — so saith Hallur Orsekjuson; and the name of the murdered bondman was called Kolr; the gorge where the corpse was found is since called Kolsgjá; the region passed to the state and was appropriated to public use at the site of Alþing.” Snorri banteringly referred to these two as the spirits of the region. The saga has missed the point of the allusin, while faithfully transmitting the words. Continued in the next issue. Trusting Humans Continued from page 4 enough for me to blandly accept what followed. Another rude jab and the words, “Tough little bugger. These are Icelandics, I guess I have to up the dos- age.” I found the behaviour very uncivi- lized to say the least. Rules are mles ánd meant to be followed. One shot is okay; two is too many. By the third jab I had become quite annoyed! Even though I had grown slightly groggier, I was not a pushover, and I never will be. I did not intend to allow the guy to stick needles into me a third time without giving him a mn for his money. He ended up succeeding in the end, but not before I made the decision to let him. It’s not worth it to fight with individuals whose standards of fair play don’t live up to your own. I could easily have nailed him, but then I would have had to live with that on my conscience for the rest of my life. I don’t want to tell you about what followed. I don’t know what was worse — having it done to me, or watching it being done to the others. Are people re- ally so bizarre that they enjoy cutting up other people? When they took the next load to the vet, the day after, I wamed the guys, but they didn’t listen. “You’re full of bull,” they said. “Nobody could be as perverse as that!” They couldn’t say I didn’t wam them. Gelding, the butchers called it, and Elisabeth said it was for our own good. The worst part was that she looked as if she really meant it. Is there no limit to how hypocritical humans can be? Eleven stallions had to be enough, she said. Twenty-six in one herd was just too scary, even for her. Besides there were lots of people out there who couldn’t havé a stallion but who were looking for won- derful geldings like us. I was still groggy that day at the vet, when they shooed us into the trailer, but on the ride home, I swore never, ever to enter another trailer again! So far I’ve almost kept that promise. When the fence was done, and it was time to retum us to the hundred acres, I kept them on their toes for a long time, and led them on a merry dance. But after I had watched a couple of loads of the others leaving, and realized they were just being transported a couple of hundred yards down the road, I made up my mind I’d made them run around enough to make my point. STEINN BOLLASON This children’s story continues in this issue. It is translated by Gunnur Isfeld. í 6T-v að er alveg ómögulegt,” sagði hann ST illur í skapi. “Þá skal ég nú sýna þér, að það er vel hægt,” sagði Steinn og kreysti ostbitann, svo að mjólkin rann út um greiparnar á honum. Þegar risinn sá þetta, fór hann að skima í kringum sig, til að vita, hvar hann gæti komizt sem beinasta leið heim til sín, en þá gekk Steinn i veg fyrir hann. “Við skulum nú snöggvast telja dálítið saman, hvað mikið þú ert búinn að fá af fénu hérna,” sagði hann. “Það er ekki ætlast til, að þú fáir það fyrir ekki neitt.” 6 6Tj- is altogether impossible,” he retorted. 11 “I will show you, it is well possible,” said Steinn and squeezed the piece of cheese until milk squeezed out between his fingers. When the giant saw this, he began looking around for the shortest way home, but Steinn walked in front of him. “Let us do some counting, to find out how many sheep you have taken here,” he said. “You are not getting them free.” The word The word as it appears in story Grammar English translation ómögulegt kreysta kreysti impossible squeeze renna rann pt. flour greipar greipar(nar) pl. def. the space between the skima kring um sig í veg fyrir snöggbast thumb and the other fingers look all around all around in front of briefly, shortly Therefore, I just happened to sort of wander into the catch pen and discover I had been trapped. By doing so rather than really give in, I didn’t have to lose face or renege on my principles. It was just so much easier that way than being stubbom and insisting on showing them just how persistent and powerful I really am. The real test came a few weeks later when it was time to worm once again. I was not the one who had broken the rules of our relationship, and I wanted to make it absolutely clear that it would be a long time before I would even consider trust- ing a human being again. Elisabeth just laughed, and sent me massive waves of love. “She understood perfectly,” she said. She would have felt exactly the same way and she was so sorry I had had to go through everything I had. “Sorry didn’t cut the mustard,” I said, but I did agree on a compromise. I stood right at the doorway to the trailer, but didn’t get in. She stuck the worming gun into my mouth, I swal- lowed and we were done! You know the saying, there’s light at the end of the tunnel? Well, that’s how I believe it is. Time does not stand still, and as the days go by, and I watch all the other guys getting out to do fun things, I kind of want to be a part of that, too. I let Elisabeth pet me, because I know how easily I can break away, and I do accept treats. I just don’t think what happened to me was fair, and now my question to you is, “Do you think trusting humans is saneT’ □ Reprinted from The Viking Saga Ranch Newsletter, Lompoc, CA, October 1997. CANADA www.pltch-ln.ca

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