The Gods of the North: an epic poem. Adam Oehlenschläger
and elucidated.” These two works afford a complete key to the mythes and allegories of the Scandinavian mythology, intricate as it is; and armed thus with his (Finn Magnussen’s) magic wand, I too may fearlessly undertake the office of Hierophant.
With respect to this poem and its author,[9] it has been observed by a modern Danish writer of some eminence: “There have been various poetical works in all the northern languages based on the legends of the Edda; but no author has woven thereof a whole, nor has so happily and poetically embodied its genius, mythes and transformations, as Œhlenschläger in his celebrated poem, The Gods of the North.”
To me it seems that he has combined in an eminent degree the peculiar excellences of three distinguished poets, of three distinct ages, viz. those of Hesiod in his Theogony, of Ovid in his Metamorphoses, and of Ariosto in his Orlando Furioso. Œhlenschläger seems to possess all the inexhaustible genius, fertility of invention, playfulness, and sly, but not ill-natured, satire of the bard of Ferrara:
“Il grande che cantò le armi e gli amori.”
Of my translation, it befits not me to speak. Like my archetype, I have adopted various metres for the different cantos, not always the same as those of the original; for I wished to take a freer scope, and not to fetter myself by an invariable adoption of the self-same metres, which would have been attended with great difficulty, inasmuch as some of them are unsuitable to the genius of the English language, which is far less laconic than the Danish. I have likewise, in a few instances, amplified my archetype, for I was determined that nothing of his should be lost; yet I trust, that even in those parts where I have most amplified, I have never departed from the meaning and spirit of the author. I can therefore never admit, that my translation, though unshackled, should be termed “a free one,” or Bearbeitung, as the Germans express it.
With respect to my qualifications as a translator, they are as follows: from the early age of fifteen I have been engaged in the acquisition of the language and literature of Germany; for the last twelve years, I have closely studied the Danish and Swedish languages, and I have lately attempted the Icelandic.
About eight years ago, I made a summer tour in Denmark and Sweden, and when at Copenhagen, I became acquainted with Finn Magnussen, the celebrated antiquarian, and with the poet Œhlenschläger himself, most of whose works I had previously read with unbounded admiration and delight, and among which, this poem, “The Gods of the North,” had excited my peculiar attention. Thus prepared, I determined on undertaking a metrical version of the whole of this work, one canto of which (the 12th) I had previously translated, and published anonymously in a Parisian weekly review, in 1835.
In my translation, I was further encouraged by the idea that I was thereby contributing to spread among my countrymen a taste for the mythology and general literature of Scandinavia, which is capable of furnishing to the painter or the sculptor a series of subjects not less interesting than those derived from the classic sources of Greece or Rome. I recommend, also, to the attention of scholars, the study of the Danish and Swedish languages, as the key to an historical literature extremely rich and diversified, interesting to the readers of every European nation, but more particularly so to the English reader, who is desirous of forming an intimate acquaintance with the arcana of his own language, and with his own early history, laws, customs, manners, and legends. The history of Denmark, Norway, and Sweden is as captivating as a romance, and it presents an astonishing variety of the most singular events, which would afford admirable subjects for epic and dramatic poetry, as well as for the historical novel. The English reader will perceive, likewise, that the Scandinavian mythology is the fountain head of many of the most popular tales, legends, and ballads of his own country. It will interest him to mark the effect of the introduction of the Christian religion upon the Scandinavian polytheism, as therein he may trace the origin of many of our own superstitions and fabulous traditions. At the appearance of the Cross, the proud edifice of Valhalla, not seldom, alas! polluted with human gore, crumbles into dust. Asagard, with all its palaces and gardens, dissolves in air! The mighty Odin himself, the wise, the just, the beneficent Odin, degenerates into a common-place demon, liable to be exorcised by a parish priest. The Nornor, or Fates, the solemn, majestic, and impartial Nornor, though stern, yet beautiful to behold, become changed to disgusting and wrinkled witches, and figure as such in the weird sisters of Macbeth. The awful giants of Utgard sink into the ogres of a fairy tale; Thor, deprived of his belt, his hammer, his gauntlets, and his car, dwindles into Jack the Giant-killer,[10] the familiar hero of our days of childhood; and from the graa gaas (grey goose), a name given to a collection of ancient legends in the Icelandic tongue, from the circumstance of great longevity being attributed to that bird, may be traced our old nursery acquaintance and monitress, Mother Goose.[11] I have only to add, that I began the translation of this poem towards the end of the year 1836, and finished it in the autumn of 1837; but I was compelled by circumstances to delay the publication of it until the present year.
W. E. Frye.
Paris, January 1845.
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[1] This may be the origin of the term Ace in cards.
[2] In the prosaic Edda is this remarkable passage, wherein the name of Odin is given to Alfader, the supreme god. “We suppose that he (Odin, the god) must have been so called, for so is called the man, the greatest and the most glorious that we know, and well may mankind let him bear that name.”
[3] The figure given to the devil by the imagination of the northern nations is a confirmation of this hypothesis; whereas the Orientals give to him a more seducing form; but in modern times the least cultivated minds reject the northern type, as Göthe says in his drama of Faust:
Das nordische Phantom ist jetzt nicht mehr zu schauen,
Wo siehst du jetzt die Hörner, Schweif und Klauen?
(Faust von Göthe.)
[4] The Eddas are written in the Icelandic tongue, then called the Suio-Gothic, and sometimes the Norrana tunga (or Norse tongue), which was formerly the language of all Scandinavia. After the introduction of Christianity, from the connection with the Empire and the Church, this tongue became gradually deteriorated by a mixture with the German; and it is by this mixture with the German that the modern Swedish and Danish languages are formed. Iceland having been colonised by some Norwegian families previous to the corruption of the language, has thus, from its insular position, preserved the old language pure; and it is now called Icelandic, which, though a dead language for Scandinavia, is a living one in Iceland.
[5] Snorro Storleson is likewise the author of the celebrated history called Heimkringlas, a most valuable work.
[6] For the meaning of Ginnungagap and of all the other proper names, see the alphabetical catalogue annexed to this preface.
[7] The details of the death of Balder are not given in this Poem “The Gods of the North.” It is only alluded to in the speech of the Vala, in the last canto; but Œhlenschläger has treated the “Death of Balder” separately, and made it the subject of an admirable tragic opera, with choruses and trochaics in the Greek style.