Tímarit Þjóðræknisfélags Íslendinga - 01.01.1967, Blaðsíða 64

46
TÍMARIT ÞJÓÐRÆKNISFÉLAGS ÍSLENDINGA
that he is unable to exact ven-
geance, the most sacred duty and
the dearest prerogative of every
individual. The Persian emperor
Xerxes is said to have beaten up the
sea, when it broke down his bridge:
Egill has the will to strike the God of
the Ocean, but realizes the futility
of such an act. That again reminds
him of his own defenceless state:
being old and weak and having no
one to rely on. The effect of this
lament is much enhanced when one
calls to mind what kind of a man
was here being whipped into subjec-
tion by his fate.
Praise, of his parents and his sons,
often in tender terms, is scattered
about the poem. But though one
might expect it in an epitaph, this is
not the core of the poem. Egill’s own
feelings are the main theme: his
helplessness, his hopeless state, his
despair. In this subjectivity Egill
stands alone not only in Iceland but
apparently in the Old Germanic
world where the historian Tacitus
says that people keep their sorrows
to themselves but do not forget. In
a similar way the Eddic poem Háva-
mál maintains that silence and con-
templation shall be practiced in the
face of difficulties.
But in the last four stanzas of
the poem Egill raises himself above
his despair it seems by a peculiar
understanding or reckoning with
his old friend Óðinn.
Now Óðinn was the god of fight-
ing, of magic, of runes, and of
poetry. It was natural for Egill the
Viking, the magician, and poet to
have pledged to Óðinn his lifelong
friendship, though his father, the
farmer, might have honoured Þórr
or Freyr. It is clear that both these
gods, and especially Þórr, were
rooted in the Scandinavian soil, Óð-
inn was the fashionable god of the
restless, but independent Vikings
who had become separated from the
family moorings. Under such cir-
cumstances it is likely that the Vik-
ing tried to replace the old ties of
family with those of friendship; it
is safe to say that Egill and Arin-
björn are a classical example of this
type of transfer. It is characteristic
that in Hávamál, the ‘Sayings of Óð-
inn,’ the family is conspicuous only
by its absence; on the other hand the
bonds of friendship are highly
praised in this poem.
Egill is sore at Óðinn, he says as
much as: I became foolish enough
to trust you, but you have deceived
me, and if I sacrifice to you I do not
do it gladly.
But why should Egill trust Óðinn,
who by repute was a habitual
deceiver. That Egill must have
known all along.
The oldfashioned family and farm-
er’s god, Þórr, on whom it was also
good to rely during hazardous voy-
ages, might have protected Böðvar
if Egill had kept up his friendship
with him. From the fickle Óðinn
one could not expect any protection.
The great question in Egill’s mind
at this critical point of his life must
have been, whether he had made
the right kind of choice when he as
a young man gave up the friendship
with the dependable god of his
forefathers in exchange for the ex-
citing faith in the unpredictable Óð-
inn. The loss of kinsmen was a try-