Skáldskaparmál - 01.01.1992, Blaðsíða 46

44
Robert Cook
“Þetta einkenni kvennanna [i.e. skörungsskapur] kemur þó best fram í
uppreisn þeirra gegn ofríki karla sem brýst fram á ýmsan hátt” (1987:49).
One of Oddný’s examples is Þorgerður Egilsdóttir, who protests by refusing
Ólafur at first, then by teasing him about his masculinity (“Það muntu hugsa
að þú munt þykjast hafa gert meiri þoranraun en tala við konur” [23:1568])
and finally by taking the role of a man in avenging Kjartan.
Oddný reads the saga as a direct answer to the oppressiveness of
chieftains and the very little power available to women in thirteenth century
Iceland.
Kvenlýsingar Laxdælu gefa skýra mynd af óánægju konunnar með stöðu sína í
samfélaginu. ... Sagnaritari Laxdæla sögu hefur verið meðvitaður um þessa
kúgun kvenna [á Sturlungaöld] þegar hann ritaði söguna. I Laxdælu fá konur
uppreisn æru og eru þær lýsingar ekki aðeins ólíkar lýsingum á stöðu konunnar
í Sturlungu heldur einnig öllum Islendingasögum .... Með því að hafa konur
eins áhrifamiklar og í Laxdælu felist ósk [sagnaritarans] um bætta stöðu
konunnar. (1987:52-53)
Among the women whom Oddný sees as protesting directly against the
division of sexual roles is Unnur djúpúðga, who “gegnir hlutverki
karlmannsins með því að nema land, stjórna gjaforðum og gefa jarðir”
(1987:49). But is Unnur really protesting, or is she - as Helga Kress and the
editors of Sígildar sögur suggest - merely enjoying the benefits of her
superior social status? Here we stumble on a dilemma which reveals the
weakness of this theory: what is it that allows us to label an action “protest”
or “rebellion”? Are all assertive acts of women forms of protest, or only
some? If Unnur djúpúðga acts the part of a man, as do other women in the
saga, is she protesting or is she a special case? Has she been given the status
of a man because she is widowed and powerful and keeps changing abodes
(i.e. parting from grandsons-in-law with potential authority over her)? Or
does she appropriate the status of a man and thereby make a protest?
The complications into which this leads us arise only if we insist that the
actions of women in this saga should be interpreted as forms of protest
against domination by males, and here we come to the root of the problem
with this theory. What historical likelihood is there that the thirteenth
century male or female author of Laxdæla saga felt the same way about
male-centered society that a modern reader of Kate Millett’s Sexual Politics
might feel? This is not a matter that can be simply taken for granted, and in
fact the opposite possibility should be given at least equal consideration: that
thirteenth-century Icelandic women, including the possibly female author of
Laxdæla, were content with their roles, in fact regarded the division of roles
as more or less according to nature, and enjoyed finding ways to use their
status with maximum effectiveness. It is conceivable that the normal
thirteenth-century reaction - among women as well as men - to Guðrún’s