Skáldskaparmál - 01.01.1994, Page 137

Víglundar saga
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The analysis above, while referring specifically to Cinderella-type stories, certainly
applies to the psychological plot that underlies Víglundur’s quest for Ketilríður.
Moreover, if one compares the forestory with the main narrative, it becomes clear
that the conflict in the former is one-dimensional and lacks the subtler dilemma
evident in the main plot. While Ólöf alludes to her father’s power to decide her
fate, she is nonetheless prepared to follow her lover when he abducts her. Once
they have established their own household in Iceland, Ólöf and Þorgrímur
become not only model members of the community but also model parents.
Compared to them, the members of Hólmkell’s family are at odds with each other,
and the story of Ketilríður is the story of her liberation from the authority of her
family through marriage to Víglundur.
Throughout the saga, Víglundur is depicted as reacting to events, mostly the
aggression of others. To be sure, Víglundur kills the rival suitor Hákon, but as a
result of being attacked by him and Ketilríður’s brothers (p. 1973). Only in
relation to Ketilríður does he propose action himself, but each time he is foiled
by her response, in which she essentially conveys to him that she is powerless to
decide for herself, thereby intimating that both are powerless. This theme already
surfaces in the forestory. When Þorgrímur asks Ólöf in the prefatory narrative
how she might react to his suit, she responds positively, provided that this is in
accordance with her father’s will. During the subsequent confrontation between
the bridegroom and her lover, the meaning of the reference to her father is
clarified. It becomes evident that the dispute between the two rivals for Ólöf’s
hand concerns the question of who has power to make a decision, whether the
woman must give her consent — “með hennar ráði” (p. 1962) — or whether the
father has the right to decide for her — “að ráða dóttur sinni” (p. 1962). In the
forestory, the exchange that takes place between the rival suitors at the wedding
is remarkable, for it turns on the legality of Ólöf having been given by her father
to Ketill, when she had earlier pledged herself to Þorgrímur. The latter commences
by inquiring whether Ólöf had agreed to marry Ketill. The reader knows the
answer, for when Ólöf was betrothed to Ketill, the narrator commented: “Lagði
Ólöf þar ekki jáyrði til né samþykki” (p. 1961). The bridegroom ignores the
question, however, and states: “Eg ætlaði að Þórir jarl mundi sjálfur eiga að ráða
dóttur sinni . . . og mundi það kaup lögligt vera sem hann gerði” (p. 1962).
Þorgrímur responds by pointing out that he and Ólöf had confirmed their pledges
with oaths, which Ólöf attests.28 He takes the same position here as he did with
King Harald, when the monarch refused to assist him in obtaining Ólöf, but
offered instead to ask for the daughter of Ketill on his behalf. To this offer
Þorgrímur replied: “Vil eg halda orð mín og eiða er við Ólöf höfum bundið með
28 The disagreement turns on older, pre-Christian legislation, which held that “fathers or other
male relatives were responsible for the betrothal and marriage of their womenfolk” and new
ecclesiastical laws according to which the suitor was to get the consent of the woman he wished
to marry — in the presence of witnesses. See Jenny M. Jochens, “Consent in Marriage: Old
Norse Law, Life, and Literature,” Scandinavian Studies, 58 (1986), 143-44; 169-70.