J. Tolkien - The Legend of Sigurd and Gudrún

The full working of this curse is only hastened by Ódin’s own interventions – to provide Sigurd with horse and weapon fit for his task, and to provide him with a fit bride, the fairest of all Ódin’s Valkyries, Brynhild. (It appears that Ódin purposes through Sigurd to punish the family of Hreidmar (Fáfnir and Regin) for the exaction of the ransom of Otr.) In the story of Sigurd

Here this text breaks off.

(ii)

Grímhild, wife of Gjúki King of the Burgundians (or Niflungs), is the chief agent of evil, not because of any farsighted plans of wickedness: she is rather an example of that wickedness that looks only to each situation as it occurs, and sticks at nothing to gain from it what seems immediately profitable. She is ‘grey with wisdom’ being a witch in lore and still more skilled in the reading of minds and hearts to use their weaknesses and follies. Her will dominates her daughter Gudrún and her oldest son Gunnar.

Gudrún is a simple maiden, incapable of any great plans for profit or vengeance. She falls in love with Sigurd, and for herself has no further motive. A sensitive but weak character, she is capable of disastrous speech or action under provocation. The occasions of this that are described are her fatal retort to the taunting of Brynhild, which more than anything is the immediate cause of Sigurd’s murder, and in the sequel, the Slaying of the Niflungs, her terrible deeds at the end when driven to madness and despair.

Gunnar is a hot impatient character, dominated by Grímhild. Though not too stupid to perceive prudence, in cases of doubt or difficulty he becomes fey and reckless, turning to violence.

(iii)

After Sigurd was slain, Brynhild took her own life, and they were both burned on one pyre. Gudrún did not take her own life, but for grief was for a time half-witless. She would not look upon her kinsmen nor upon her mother, and dwelt apart in a house in the woods. There after a while she began to weave in a tapestry the history of the Dragon-hoard and of Sigurd.

Atli son of Budli became king of the Huns, ancient enemies of the Burgundians, who had before slain his father. *His power growing great becomes a threat to Gunnar, who is now king in his father Gjúki’s stead; and as Högni his brother had foretold they miss now the valour of King Sigurd their sworn-brother.

(iv)

This lay [i.e. Guðrúnarkviða en nýja ] is a sequel to the Lay of Sigurd and assumes knowledge of it, though by the device of Gudrún’s tapestry the history of the accursed Hoard and of Sigurd is brought to mind and outlined at the beginning.

In the former Lay it was told how the dominion of the Gods was from the first threatened with destruction. Ódin, Lord of Gods and Men, begets in the world many mighty men, whom he gathers in Valhöll to be his companions in the Last Battle. One family in especial he singles out, the Völsungs, *all of whom are his chosen warriors, and one, Sigurd son of Sigmund, is to be the chief of all, their leader in the Last Day; for Ódin hopes that by his hand the Serpent shall in the end be slain, and a new world made possible.

None of the Gods can accomplish this, but only one who has lived on Earth first as a mortal, and died. (This motive of the special function of Sigurd is an invention of the present poet, or an interpretation of the Norse sources in which it is not explicit.)

Evil is not, however, to be found only in the ever-watchful host of the Enemies of Gods and Men. It is found also in Ásgard itself in the person of Loki, by whose deeds, wilful, merely mischievous, or wholly malicious, the counsels and hopes of Ódin seem ever turned awry or defeated.

Yet Loki is seen ever walking the world at the left hand of Ódin, who does not rebuke him, nor dismiss him, nor refuse the aid of his cunning. At Ódin’s right hand there walks another figure, a nameless shadow. It would seem that this poet (seeing that the Northern Gods represent but written large the ways of Men in the hostile world) has taken this old legend to symbolize Man’s prudence and wisdom and its ever present accompaniment of folly and malice that defeats it, only to bring forth greater heroism and deeper wisdom; while ever at the right hand walks the shadow that is neither Ódin nor Loki but in some aspect Fate, the real story that must be blended of both. Yet Ódin is master of the Three and the final outcome will resemble rather the hope of Ódin than the malice (shorter sighted) of Loki. Ódin at times gives expression to this, saying that his hope looks out beyond the seeming disasters of this world. Though Ódin’s chosen come all to an evil end or untimely death, that will only make them of greater worth for their ultimate purpose in the Last Battle. On this in many ways mysterious writing see the commentary on the Upphaf of the Lay of the Völsungs, and the commentary on the first section of the poem, Andvari’s Gold, stanza 1.

In conclusion, this seems a suitable place to refer to remarks of my father’s that bear upon, but have no (at any rate overt) relation to, Guðrúnarkviða en nýja. In his introduction to lectures at Oxford on the Eddaic poem Guðrúnarkviða en forna , the Old Lay of Gudrún, he said that ‘curiously enough’ he was more interested in Gudrún, ‘who is usually slighted, and considered as of secondary interest’, than in Brynhild. By implication, he contrasted the long agony of Gudrún with the irruption of Brynhild, who soon departs, ‘and her passion and death remain only in the background of the tale, a brief and terrible storm beginning in fire and ending in it.’

VÖLSUNGAKVIÐA EN NÝJA

eða

SIGURÐARKVIÐA EN MESTA

VÖLSUNGAKVIÐA EN NÝJA

UPPHAF

(Beginning)

1

Of old was an age

when was emptiness,

there was sand nor sea

nor surging waves;

unwrought was Earth,

unroofed was Heaven –

an abyss yawning,

and no blade of grass.

2

The Great Gods then

began their toil,

the wondrous world

they well builded.

From the South the Sun

from seas rising

gleamed down on grass

green at morning.

3

They hall and hallow

high uptowering,

gleaming-gabled,

golden-posted,

rock-hewn ramparts

reared in splendour,

forge and fortress

framed immortal.

4

Unmarred their mirth

in many a court,

where men they made

of their minds’ cunning;

under hills of Heaven

on high builded

they lived in laughter

long years ago.

5

Dread shapes arose

from the dim spaces

over sheer mountains

by the Shoreless Sea,

friends of darkness,

foes immortal,

old, unbegotten,

out of ancient void.

6

To the world came war:

the walls of Gods

giants beleaguered;

joy was ended.

The mountains were moved,

mighty Ocean

surged and thundered,

the Sun trembled.

7

The Gods gathered

on golden thrones,

of doom and death

deeply pondered,

how fate should be fended,

their foes vanquished,

their labour healed,

light rekindled.

8

In forge’s fire

of flaming wrath

was heaviest hammer

hewn and wielded.

Thunder and lightning

Thór the mighty

flung among them,

felled and sundered.

9

In fear then fled they,

foes immortal,

from the walls beaten

watched unceasing;

ringed Earth around

with roaring sea

and mountains of ice

on the margin of the world.