The Mead of Poetry
The
Aesir and the
Vanir made peace, reconciling themselves after long war and sealing their union in spit. As each god spat his or her oath into the mead-cup, the idea formed not to waste this divine sputum, but rather to fashion from it a being, a man to be called
Kvasir. One most wise, one who could answer any question asked, even those beyond the gods’ own knowledge. And so it was that Kvasir was created, and wandered the nine worlds teaching and answering questions.
Some time later Kvasir was the guest of two dwarves, the siblings
Fjalar and Galar. Jealous of his skill they murdered Kvasir and secretly drained all the blood from his body into two drinking vessels and a cauldron. To this they added a rare honey and stirred the mixture until it brewed into a mead so special that anyone drinking it would at once become the wisest of beings, or else be blessed by the gift of sublime poetry. To the gods in Asgard these dwarvish assassins sent word that Kvasir had choked on his own words of wisdom.
Soon after, it happened that a giant named
Gilling came visiting the dwarves with his wife. Jealous of their priceless mead and drunk with a sense of their own power, Fjalar and Galar murdered Gilling – pushing him into the river within their cave where he drowned. His wife too, in rushing to his aid, was tripped, and milled into flour between two huge grindstones. The dwarves relaxed in their wicked triumph.
When Gilling and his wife did not return home, one of their sons, the giant
Suttung, set off to discover their fate. Coming upon the dwarves he was at once suspicious and seized them by their beards, dragging them out deep into the ocean where he set them down upon a rock, barely above the waves. ‘The tide turns, and within an hour you will drown’ he informed them, and realising they had no chance to swim for shore, the dwarves pleaded for quarter. They admitted murdering Gilling, his wife, and indeed Kvasir, and promised Suttung he could take the priceless mead for himself if he would only spare them. Suttung, his interest piqued, agreed and carried the dwarves landward, where they gave him the three vessels of mead.
Suttung then returned to his home in the mountain
Hnitbjorg, in
Jotenheim, the land of the giants. In the mountain he created a vault and there placed the mead together with his other treasures. He appointed his beautiful daughter
Gunlod to sit in constant vigilance and guard the hoard, from her golden throne.
In time rumour of these events worked their way back to
Asgard and to the cunning ears of
Odin. Determined that the mead should belong with the Aesir, Odin formed a plan. He transformed himself in to the guise of a man and took the name,
Bolverkr, which means Grief-worker. Then he set out for Jotenheim, and soon came upon a field of nine workers scything the grass. Observing how slowly they worked, Bolverkr struck up a conversation. He soon learned that they were the employees of
Baugi, brother of Suttung, and a scheme broke across his quick mind. Sharpening his own scythe, Bolverkr stepped forward and cut the grass in no time – the fieldworkers were amazed and Bolverkr also sharpened their scythes on his whetstone. So impressed were they that they tried to buy the whetstone from Bolverkr, who instead, said it would belong to whoever could catch it. He then hurled it aloft, and as it spun and glinted in the sunlight, the nine workers pushed and shoved and turned to gain prime position, and as they did, they cut each other’s throats with their newly razor-like scythes and fell down dead.
Bolverkr pocketed his whetstone and headed to Baugi’s home, a smile on his lips. Upon reaching Baugi’s place he knocked and asked for hospitality, but was met with a gruff and gloomy ‘No!’ Baugi was clearly in a foul temper, and soon gave the reason as the mysterious deaths of his workers that afternoon. ‘How am I to gather the harvest in now, tell me that?’ he moaned. Bolverkr made an offer, ‘I will do the work of your nine men, and more and moreover, I will do it for free – all I ask in return I s for three sips of the mead they say your brother keeps’. ‘No deal’ says Baugi – ‘The mead is not mine to bargain with’. But Bolverkr was very persuasive and soon Baugi agreed that if the work was indeed done, he would go to his brother Suttung and ask on Bolverkr’s behalf for the three sips of mead.
Sure enough, Bolverkr completed the work of the fieldmen in a very short time and soon he was accompanying Baugi to Suttung’s mountain at Hnitbjorg to claim his payment. Suttung however, was implacable and unmoved and refused outright to let the mead be tasted by anyone. Baugi, bound by the deal and yet unable to honour his part of the bargain, was soon manipulated by Bolverkr into trying another tack. The trickster’s path. Bolverkr gave Baugi a long augur and set him to work drilling through the mountain into its core. After much labour, Baugi called Bolverkr – ‘I’m through, the hole is completed’. Bolverkr blew into the drill hole and a cloud of dust and stone chips flew up into his face, the hole was incomplete. Cuffing Baugi Bolverkr demanded that he continue drilling and try no more tricks, and meekly Baugi drilled on. Finally he once again called Bolverker to the hole, and this time when he blew, no chips flew, the shaft into the mountain was finished. Instantaneously, Bolverkr transformed himself into a snake and disappeared down the drill hole, leaving Baugi stabbing at thin air and bare rock with the augur, too slow to catch the snake.
Inside the mountain, the snake immediately re-took the form of Bolverkr and stood in the stone vault, surrounded by Suttung’s hoard and aware of the beautiful Gunlod, sat upon a golden throne, looking somewhat startled. Soon Bolverkr, with his divine charm, had seduced Gunlod and the two retired together for three days and three nights of lovemaking, at the end of which Gunlod promised Bolverkr anything he might want. ‘My only desire is for three sips of your father’s mead’ he explained, and no sooner was it said than Gunlod offered him the two vessels and the cauldron containing the precious liquid. With his first sip, Bolverkr drained the first vessel, with the second sip he took the second vessel into his mouth, and with the third, he emptied the cauldron. Immediately upon doing this he transformed himself into a royal eagle and flew from the heart of the cave towards Asgard, and home.
However, the suspicious Suttung had expected some trickery of this kind and seeing the eagle, realised what had happened. He also magically transformed into an eagle and flew in pursuit of Bolverkr/Odin – the chase was on. On and on they flew, Suttung slowly gaining, until they could see the walls of Asgard ahead. There the Aesir and the Vanir saw what was happening and began to place vessels high on the battlement. As Odin passed first, he spat a charge of mead into the first vessel, wheeling round for a second pass and repeating the feat with a second vessel. Finally, with Suttung now right upon him, Odin in eagle form spat the third and final charge of mead into the last vessel, but in the effort of so doing, a portion of the mead ‘came out backwards’, fell from his feathered vent and dropped outside the walls of Asgard as shit. As the gods reclaimed the holy mead of poetry as their own, to bestow on favourites alone, this trickle of mead-shit became the ‘rhymester’s share’, available to any mortal who cares to seek it.
Kh 6.6.06
IMAGES: 'Kvasir' from medieval Icelandic manuscript, 'Odin as an eagle' from stone carving of the Norse era (both sourced from Hurstwic).
