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The Reykjavík Grapevine
Issue 17 — 2015TV ON THE ANCIENT MANUSCRIPT
When Hrafnkell grows up, he starts his
own farm in the same valley. He begins
to obsess creepily over the god Freyr.
You might call it “faith,” but I think of
it more like Hrafnkell is Eminem circa
2009 and Freyr is Mariah Carey, sit-
ting up there in Ásgarður like, “lol why
r u so obsessed with me?” This is an
unfair analogy because Mariah Carey
is the worst, but you get the idea. He
builds a temple to Freyr, dedicates half
of everything he owns to the god, has
sacrifices in his honor, and bargains off
parts of his land to new settlers on the
condition that he be their chieftain and
priestly overlord.
He has a favorite horse, whose
name is naturally Freyfaxi, which
means “Freyr’s black-maned stallion.”
He has sworn to kill anyone who ever
rides the horse. Again, I picture Freyr:
“chill out, dude, I don’t even care about
ur dumb horse.” But Hrafnkell is totally
not kidding.
Well known as a bully, he kills many
men in duels but categorically refuses
to pay compensation for the killings,
something that was considered super
rude at the time. In Medieval Northern
Europe, you could generally kill anyone
as long as you gave their family some-
thing in return. The typical response to,
“Sorry I killed your husband; have this
sheep instead,” was, “Cool, no prob-
lem.” And things, strangely, just moved
right on.
Blood and milk and
other bodily fluids

Not for Þorbjörn, though. He tells his
son, “Einar, all my other kids totally
suck and although I obviously love you
the most, if you keep living here we’ll all
starve to death because we’re poor. So
GTFO and get a job.” Einar, his son, finds
work as a shepherd on Hrafnkell’s farm
and is immediately warned about the
deathly implications of riding the horse.
He soon loses many of the sheep
and requires a horse to find them. To no
one’s surprise, every mare runs away
when he approaches it, while Freyfaxi
is basically like, “Hey, man. I’m just
standing here, chillin’. You could totally
ride me if you want.” (The horse obvi-
ously doesn’t talk, but you get the pic-
ture. Some scholars interpret the omi-
nous actions of the horse as the will of
Freyr, so he’s probably just fucking with
all these idiots and LOLing up a storm
in Ásgarður.) So Einar rides the horse
like dipshit with a death-wish and the
wish comes true. To Hrafnkell’s credit,
he at least has the decency to tell Einar
how sad he is about the killing before
he sticks an axe in Einar’s face.
Like most humans today, but unlike
many characters in the Sagas, Þorb-
jörn feels some feels. Even if he doesn’t
cry. He’s so upset about the killing of
his son that he goes to Hrafnkell and
demands compensation. Hrafnkell is so
regretful about that whole axe-in-face
business that he offers to give Þorbjörn
milk for all eternity, and to generally
make sure his poor family doesn’t ever
starve to death, and allow Þorbjörn to
live in Hrafnkell’s house when he’s too
old to farm. Despite being an extremely
generous compensation (especially
considering Hrafnkell’s cheap ass),
Þorbjörn still has a lot of feels and in-
sists milk is not fair payment for blood.
Hrafnkell politely tells him to fuck off.
Law and order and
torture and stuff
Seeking assistance to prosecute Hraf-
nkell in court, Þorbjörn goes to his
brother, who refuses to help because
he believes Hrafnkell is too powerful.
His son Sámur, however, reluctantly
agrees to help and sets off a chain of
class dynamics and legal events that
are all super boring until someone gets
tortured, so I’ll fast-forward to that. All
you need to know is that some rando
named Þorkell shows up from the
Westfjords and uses his powerful fam-
ily connections to help win the case
against Hrafnkell, thereby humiliating
him. There was much rejoicing.
Then there was some torture.
Sámur, Þorkell, and others storm Hrafn-
kell’s house early in the morning, taking
him and all able-bodied men outside.
They cut holes through each of their
heels and then string them all up like
some kind of giant, fucked-up torture-
necklace. Although he won the right to
kill the shit out of Hrafnkell (and all his
bros advise to do so or regret it), Sámur
lets Hrafnkell choose between death
and life in humiliation. He chooses
humiliation. Sámur keeps all of Hraf-
nkell’s stuff, including his chieftaincy
and his valley and his special fancy
horse, which his bros promptly shove
off a cliff. And guess what, Freyr totally
doesn’t even care.
The Return Of
The Asshole
Hrafnkell moves away and becomes
less of an asshole, as well as finally
giving up on Freyr. (He’s just not that
into you, dude!) He eventually gets rich
and gains another chieftaincy because
people hate him way less. Maybe they
even like him. But he’s still an asshole.
No one ever mentions his possible in-
ability to walk due to the loss of his
Achilles tendon, which seems kind of
important to the whole farming thing.
But whatever.
Six years later, Sámur’s brother is
passing by Hrafnkell’s valley and Hraf-
nkell, apparently still enough of an ass-
hole for revenge, does the thing with
the axe again. Then he takes Sámur by
surprise, but with like no torture at all,
and offers him the same choice Sámur
offered Hrafnkell before. Sámur also
chooses humiliation. He then goes his
bros for help, but they serve him a brim-
ming milk-jug of “I told u so, bro.” And
he lives modestly ever after as Hrafn-
kell’s bitch. Who is the truly the Eminem
and who is truly the Mariah Carey of
this situation remains a lively matter of
scholarly debate to this day.
Moral of the story: if someone says
they’ll literally kill you if you ride the
horse, don’t ride the fucking horse.
Also, in general, don’t be an asshole.
Words Grayson Del Faro
Photo Still from Hrafninn Flýgur
This Saga begins the same way Iceland did, and the same way many Sagas do:
some Norwegian guy (this one is named Hallfreður) settles his family in Iceland
to farm. Welcome to Iceland, Hallfreður. All this would normally be fine, but it be-
comes complicated as his son Hrafnkell turns out to be a total asshole.
Hrafnkels Saga
Freysgoða Recap:
Season premiere: The one where
that goddamn horse ruins everything
“Who is the truly
the Eminem and
who is truly the
Mariah Carey
of this situation
remains a
lively matter of
scholarly debate
to this day. ”