Gripla - 20.12.2008, Blaðsíða 81

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Þorsteinn is characterised as “a poor and swift” man — fielitill og fraligr
(Flat III, 431), and that none of his relatives is named in the þáttr). Such a
hero successfully gets through all the trials he has to undergo, overcomes
a mighty opponent and finally wins and enhances his social status. But
in other respects Íslendinga þættir can actually be shown to contrast with
folktales. The heroes of such stories succeed primarily owing to their
personal abilities and efforts, and not relying on supernatural assistants
(some of them receive a powerful backing, but mostly in addition to their
own endeavours). Besides, protagonists of útanferðar þættir never aim at
anything utterly unrealisable, pursuing which would have exceeded the
limits of human power and experience. Furthermore, all the action in these
stories takes place in real historical time and space, unlike the normally
undefined setting of the action in folktales, and all the events depicted in
the þættir are presented in such a way that they enjoy the confidence of
the audience. Like the sagas of Icelanders Íslendinga þættir are narrated
in the realistic mode (more precisely, that of “archaic realism” as the saga
style was defined by M. I. Steblin-Kamenskij)1 and their medieval audience
considered these stories trustworthy.
Þorsteins þáttr forvitna apparently stands out against the background
of other narratives of this type. The story is supposed to be an exemplum,
intended to illustrate how curiosity, which was regarded as a reprehensi-
ble quality, leads to serious trouble (ÍF XIII, CCII).2 But the account of
Þorsteinn’s adventure shows even more resemblance to a magic folktale,
with which it shares both the general narrative pattern and a number of
notable features that are generally alien to tales of Icelanders. Indeed, in no
other Íslendinga þáttr does an ‘expiatory’ mission of a hero take the form of
a typical fabulous motif, namely an assignment to fulfil an impracticable
task. When king Haraldr sent Þorsteinn away for the shoots of a marvel-
lous tree, contrary to the usual habits of a Norse ruler, he gave him no
‘address’ of a wonderful golden grove. And what is more, he altogether
refused to explain to the Icelander where he should direct his steps. The
parting words Þorsteinn heard from the king were hardly encouraging:
1 See, e.g., his essay Ot sagi k romanu [From Saga to Romance] (Steblin-Kamenskij 1984,
199).
2 Cf. in The King’s Mirror: “Enga luti skalltþu þa forvitna við hofðingia þinn er þu ser at
hann vil at lœyniliger se <...>” (KS 57) [“You should never be curious about anything you
see that your lord wishes to keep in secrecy”].
THE FANTASTIC IN Í SLENDINGA ÞÆTTIR