This is going to be another crazy UPG-filled post.
So I feel pretty emotional right now, I know that's not a typical thing for me to say but there it is. I just got the tattoo in honour of Holle-Frija finished and for want of better words, it feels like an initiation has occurred, that it's more or less complete and that I only have to celebrate this change and start living anew now.
This whole month has felt 'initiatory' in nature and a lot of stuff has been tied up, I've been 'pulled' back to where I am supposed to be and new things have started.
Since getting the first part of the tattoo done, I've completed and submitted my paper on Holle's origins to Odroerir (which I oathed to do both to Frija and my community) and I've started my book on Seidr - in fact, I'm a sixth of the way through it now. I've come more back to the 'middle' of things, back to my roots and I'm no longer ashamed or embarrassed by the weird side of my practice. I am a woman that grew up on boggy moors, that has drummed and chanted and sung under moon and sun on burial mounds. I'm a woman that sees things that others do not and doesn't consider any of it to be supernatural, but rather very much natural. I don't think myself any more special than your average person. I am a woman that, a couple of years ago, came across a deity that changed everything and that has been studying her ever since. I'm also wife to the most amazing man on earth, friend to some great people, keeper of some crazy pets, Chorley-born gobshite and a jack of all trades. This is who I am and it's never going to change. This month has taught me that I could no more cut any of those things out than I could cut off my own arm (well I could, but I'd feel really fucking stupid in the emergency room and every time I tried to tie my shoelaces).
For want of a better word, I feel like some kind of priestess now, I would be lying if I said I didn't feel like a dick just for writing that, but it's true, I do. I have no idea what this will mean, but at the very least, I hope I encourage more people to take up spinning.
Before leaving the tattooist's today, I ended up giving a demonstration of spinning to the tattooists and a lady that wants me to produce something arty for an art show they're having in the local area, I couldn't think of anything more apt.
Wednesday, October 31, 2012
Sunday, October 21, 2012
"Out Of The Waters Beneath The Tree"
In times ancient or modern, the figure of the Seidrworker,
has been a controversial one. In modern times, the arguments generally seem to
boil down to either one of three points:
* We can't know enough about what they did to reconstruct
Seidr and ergo modern Seidr is nothing more than core-Shamanism with Norse
trappings.
* Why on earth are there so many Seidrworkers nowadays? They
were a minority of outsiders back in the day, people who get into it only get
into it because they're looking for Wicca-type stuff in Heathenry or want to
feel special!
* Magic doesn't exist, we don't need that stuff anymore,
we've got science!!!
In ancient times, the concerns surrounding Seidrworkers were
largely (in my opinion, from read reading the various accounts of Seidrworkers
interacting with communities) based around the fear that not only did this
person have the potential to do things, non-physical things, to either see the
future or change luck, but they also inhabited the outer yard, and who on earth
would want to do that?
The world back then was quite strongly delineated between
inner and outer yard, between the civilised world of men, and the wild unknown
dangers of the wilderness where elves, trolls, giants and goodness knows what
else might reside.(1)
However, to quote the character 'Ibn' in the movie 'The 13th
Warrior', "things were not always thus", or at least, I don't think
they were. This blog post is an examination of the potential origins of the
Seidrworker and the sources that led me to to the conclusions I've come to
during the course of my study in this field. I warn you though, this is going
to be a long one, so grab yourself a drink, dive in, and I look forward to any
discussions that may arise from this blog post.
Conclusion Number One: The Nature Of Worship Changed In The
Heathen Period
When we moderns think about the Heathen period, we tend to
think about it as some period in which there was some kind of 'overarching
Heathen worldview', as a time when a huge chunk of Northern Europe worshipped
gods like Odin, Thor and Frey, and goddesses like Frigga and Freyja. More of us
are moving more towards the mentality of different groups having different
customs and beliefs - or 'sidu' (2), of thinking more in terms of 'Heathenisms'
rather than a single Heathenism. However, when it comes to thinking about
changes that took place within the Heathen period to those Heathenisms, on the
whole, we're a little bit behind.
Archaeological evidence from the migration period shows us
one of the starkest changes to occur in the Heathen period to how, who and
where people worshipped. This change must have been pivotal for the people at
the time, a ginormous change in worldview, potentially rivalling that of what
new people coming to Heathenry go through. A change, that I believe, laid the
groundwork for the concept of inner-yard and outer-yard in terms of the how
land was considered.
Before and during the migration period, we see
archaeological evidence of a plethora of votive offerings made in bogs, and
less commonly, human sacrifices. Rarely, we even see god and goddess pole
finds, generally crude wooden posts that give a hint of gender such as that
turned up at Foerlev Nymolle in Denmark.(3)
The bog, as a location for worship, is probably about as
'liminal' as a place can be (4). Not only was the bog a meeting place of earth
and water, a place that wasn't quite either, and a place of mists and danger,
but it was also, in a lot of ways, the lifeblood of many communities. Peat
could provide fuel and building materials for warmth, marsh grasses could be woven
together for rope and roofing, water fowl could provide food, and flax and
nettle growing in the bog could be turned into fibers and spun for clothing.
However there came a point in the Migration period, in which
those votive offerings stopped and worship moved from the wild liminal places,
and into the hof (5). The nature of archaeological finds also changed around
this time, becoming more martial in nature, especially around areas such as
Odense (a place named for Odin) (6).
But who was being worshipped in these bogs? Perhaps the
first piece of evidence that comes to mind is the following account from
Tacitus's of the Nerthus ritual:
"Next to them come the Ruedigni, Aviones, Anglii,
Varini, Eudoses, Suarines, and Huitones, protected by river and forests. There
is nothing especially noteworthy about these states individually, but they are
distinguished by a common worship of Nerthus, that is, Mother Earth, and
believes that she intervenes in human affairs and rides through their peoples.
There is a sacred grove on an island in the Ocean, in which there is a
consecrated chariot, draped with cloth, where the priest alone may touch. He
perceives the presence of the goddess in the innermost shrine and with great
reverence escorts her in her chariot, which is drawn by female cattle. There
are days of rejoicing then and the countryside celebrates the festival,
wherever she designs to visit and to accept hospitality. No one goes to war, no
one takes up arms, all objects of iron are locked away, then and only then do
they experience peace and quiet, only then do they prize them, until the
goddess has had her fill of human society and the priest brings her back to her
temple. Afterwards the chariot, the cloth, and, if one may believe it, the
deity herself are washed in a hidden lake. The slaves who perform this office
are immediately swallowed up in the same lake. Hence arises dread of the
mysterious, and piety, which keeps them ignorant of what only those about to
perish may see."
- Tacitus Cornelius. Germania (A.R Birley Translation).
Admittedly, there are problems with this, the most glaring
being that it's only describing the activities of seven tribes, worshipping a
goddess whose name is male in gender. However what of other evidence? Such as
the Fuerstenberg type bracteates that depict goddesses, often spinning? If the
males depicted on bracteates are unanimously considered to be gods, then so the
female figures must be considered goddesses (7). What too of observations based
on archaeological finds of votive offerings, where they were made and who they
were most likely made to? Based on such observations, the Swedish
archaeologist, Anders Andren sees a connection between the type of water body
and the gender of the being being offered to, with large open bodies of water
being more likely to be connected to offerings to male deities and
bogs/marshland more likely to contain offerings made to female deities.(8)
And what of the evidence of people and tribes? Both Erika
Timm and Lotte Motz make the connection between the tribes mentioned by Tacitus
and the areas of Germany where female numena have survived in folklore (often
as the spouse of Wodan). (9) (10)Furthermore, these numena such as Holle, Frau
Gode/Wode and Frau Herke (Perchta cannot truly be classified in this group),
are all strongly linked with spinning - a theme which is reminiscent of the
Oberwerschen-B bracteate, especially considering the find-provenance of the
object (in a woman's grave situated next to a cultic site, under the chin of
the woman, accompanied by a spindle whorl, keys, a silver needle and a knife).
(11)
Several scholars (12), have put forth the theory that as
peoples moved, worship moved from the land into the hof, the cult of a male
god, namely Odin, came to the fore.
In a lot of ways, it makes a lot of sense for a people on
the move to adopt worship that is more 'portable' and less rooted in the land,
it is also natural for people to be suspicious of the wild places in new lands
and to stay close to their halls, but as Terry Gunnell posited in his
presentation 'Goddess of the Marshes', this change may have ultimately made it
easier for the Christian conversion to take as the church replaced the hof and
one sky-father replaced another. (13)
Conclusion Number Two: Seidrworkers Weren't *Just* Magic
Workers - At Least Not Originally
Arguably, the archetypal Seidrworker is Gullveig/Heidr,
described thus in Voluspa:
"She remembers a killing between peoples, the first in
the world,
when they propped up Gullveig with spears,
and in the hall of Hárr they burned her;
three times they burned her, three times reborn,
often, not seldom, and yet she still lives.
They called her Heiðr, wherever she came to houses,
a prophetess foretelling good fortune, she laid spells on
spirits;
she understood magic, practised magic in a trance;
she was always the delight of an evil bride."
Voluspa 21-22
As Heidr (Heath) was a common name for a Seidrworker, the
second stanza seems to be referring to the human Seidrworkers that travelled
exchanging prophecy for goods, such as the one seen in Erik the Red's Saga who
exchanges hospitality in the dead of winter, in the middle of a famine for
prophecy. Heidr is an inhabitant of the wild places, a denizen of the
suspicious outer-yard.(14) But she also seems to have her origins in Gullveig,
she seems to be that which 'still lives'. So what, or who is Gullveig?
As McKinnell points out in 'On Heidr', Gullveig is only
mentioned in Voluspa and states that:
"It seems likely
that the poet may have invented Gullveig himself; if so, her meaning can only
be what a contemporary audience could gather from the name. I used to think
that this points towards an allegorical interpretation of her; but it is
alternatively possible that the poet intended his audience to recognise in her
a mythological being who usually goes by another name."
In deconstructing Gullveig's name, the 'Gull' component
seems quite clear:
"It seems that
Gull- in human names normally refers to wealth or to objects made of gold, not
to figurative excellence or golden colour. "
However it's the '-veig' that provides the most interesting
point in terms of this post:
"The element -veig is not uncommon in female names; in
verse we find Álmveig (one of the ancestresses of the Skjoldungar, in
Hyndluljóð 15/5), Boðveig (said in
Sólarljóð 79/4 to be the eldest
daughter of Njorðr),
Rannveig (Óláfr inn helgi, lausavísa 1/3, Kock I 110, and
Málsháttakvæði 18/4 — referring to two
different women, apparently both historical) and Þórveig (Kormákr, lausavísa
22b, Kock I 45). Also relevant is the
woman-kenning horveig (Víga-Glúms saga ch. 23, lausavísa
7/6, ed. Jónas Kristjánsson 81; ed. Turville-Petre 42 and notes on p. 79),
where the first element means ‘flax’, ‘linen’, and clearly refers to what the
woman wears; the same might be true in the name Gullveig. It is even possible
that some poets regarded -veig merely as a heiti meaning ‘lady’, possibly with
ancestral or Vanic connotations. Veigr also appears as a male dwarf-name
(Voluspá 12/1), but the meaning here is no clearer than in the case of the
female name-element. The origin of the element is uncertain. Noreen relates it to
Gothic weihs ‘place’ and Latin vicus ‘village’, but this seems unhelpful
(though it is historically possible),
for there is no way that a tenth-century poet could have recognised this
meaning, or used it in a made-up name. Sijmons and Gering suggest that the root
is that found in víg ‘war’ and Gothic weihan ‘to fight’, and this might have
been more meaningful to a tenth-century poet (cf. the sword-heiti veigarr, Þula
IV l 4/1, Kock I 328). Most commentators, however, have connected it with the
feminine noun veig ‘alcoholic drink’, though Dronke (II 41) suggests that the
poet may also have wished to draw on the sense ‘military strength’, which
survives only in prose (see CV 690)."
"On Heidr"
- John McKinnell
Now this is where I diverge from Professor McKinnell's
conclusions and although I see nothing wrong with them (his research is far
more thorough than this blog post), there is nothing wrong with presenting
other theories. I believe that the 'Aesir/Vanir' war is a reflection of the
migration period upheaval as previously described in this post and that
'Gullveig', although often linked to Freyja, is potentially a physical
representation of the previous, outer-yard based, 'marsh goddess' cult/s. The
suggested roots of the word '-veig', to me, are reminiscent of 'Veleda', or the
'Lady with a Mead Cup' that Enright wrote of, that was considered to have
within her an element of holiness and who would prophecy for the war band. If
we accept the potential meaning that '-veig' is a kenning for 'lady', then when
connected with 'Gull', it would mean a 'lady made out of gold', or to take that
further, an idol. In terms of this meaning, a golden idol of a woman being
first attacked by spears (one of the most prominent symbols of Odin), before
being burned thrice, surviving and then continuing on as 'Heidr', one of the
most common names for a Seidrworker, seems like a poetic remembrance of the
migration period change. However strangely enough, in linking 'Gullveig' to
'gold', it's almost like there was still some respect when it came to this
'Gullveig' figure, just as there is in the various terms used to refer to
Grendel's mother in Beowulf. (15)
As the most-worshipped, and arguably the most 'contrary' of
the goddesses when it came to male will (a trait she shares with the various
Seidrworkers in the sources that have hostility and animosity with a male
figure that also threatens them), Freyja is a natural candidate for being
equated with the figure of 'Gullveig', and it is often the case that she is.
However I would argue that she and Frigg are like two sides of the same coin,
that were separated at some point in the past as society moved from a more
agrarian and settled existence, to a more militaristic one.
In the older manuscript of the Konnungsbok, the origin of Seidrworkers
is given as being from 'out of the waters beneath the tree', but could those
waters not be the bogs of Northern Europe and the 'tree', the very naturalistic
idols such as the one found at Foerlev Nymolle?
In short, is it not possible that Seidrworkers had their
origins as priestess/seeresses in this/these earlier cults to (a) goddess/es?
Conclusion Number Three: Seidr Isn't What A Lot Of People
Now Think It Is
In terms of the sources and evidence concerning Seidr, we
know that it was a form of magic performed in trance (leikin) (16); we also
know that these Seidrworkers were considered to be able to do certain things,
such as affect the luck of another, manipulate perception and weather, call up
the dead, and prophecy (17); we know they worked from high places (be they high
seats or mounds) (18); and we also know that Seidrworkers often had staffs
(19). These areas are not ones where you'll find much disagreement. However,
*how* they worked their magic, the process and interpretation that we have now
for those acts, I would argue, is wrong.
Typically speaking, a lot of modern Seidr functions in
accordance with the Hrafnar method, that is to say, the Seidrworker sits on a
high seat, goes into a trance and travels to Hel in search of answers. Although
some may consider this to work for them in their communities (and all power to
you if you're one of those folks and you feel it does), I would argue that not
only is this method fundamentally flawed in terms of the wider view of the
worldview that it's supposed to belong to, but that the sources themselves do
not back this up as an authentic method.
So what methods do I think were employed?
1. The use of 'enticement songs' in order to entice and then
question the wights.
In Erik the Red's saga, Thorbjorg asks Gudrun to sing the
Vardlokkur, and comments that "she had attracted many spirits there who
thought it lovely to lend ear to the chant-- spirits 'who before wished to hold
aloof from us, and pay us no heed. And now many things stand revealed to me
which earlier were hidden from me as from others."
2. Manipulation of the Hamr/Scinn in order to affect
perception, to damage the 'haelu' of a person, to learn things from far away
and as a form of battle magic.(20)
3. The sending forth of a spun 'Gandus/Gondull'.
To quote Eldar Heide in his paper 'Spinning Seidr':
"My studies on gandr have been a gateway to this view.
In several sources, gandr is a designation of such a mind-in-shape emissary
that the seiðr performer could send forth. This is evident in the description
of the Saami noaidi séance in Historia Norwegie (60–63), and is the most
reasonable interpretation also in Fóstbrœðra saga (243), Þiðriks saga (303–04)
and Þorsteins þáttr bœjarmagns (76). Several of the early eighteenth-century
sources for Saami religion also support this view (Heide 2002:77ff). The word
gandr is still in use in Norwegian and Icelandic, and modern Icelandic also has
retained the derivative gondull, as göndull. Some of the meanings of these
words connect them with spinning. In Modern Icelandic, göndull may mean ‘coarse
yarn’ and other twisted items (Sigfús Blöndal 920:282). Gand in modern
Northern Norwegian may mean ‘spinning top propelled by a string’ (Aasen
873:207), which closely resembles a spindle twirling on the floor (using a
certain spinning technique). These or related meanings of gandr/gand and g
̨ndull/göndull probably existed in Old Norse, as there was not much contact
between Northern Norway and Iceland after the Middle Ages.If so, the “spinning”
or “twisting” meanings of gand/göndull suggest that the mind emissary that the
seiðr performer could send forth could be conceived as something spun or
spinning. "
(Also see Yvonne Bonnetain 'Riding the Tree'.)
It is worth noting here that all three types of magic were
performed in trance, and it goes without saying that the parallel between a
spun form of magic and the Oberwerschen bracteate/burial goods of the
'priestess/seeress' is interesting. Unfortunately, very few nowadays can spin
to a high enough standard that they can go into a deep enough trance while
doing it to attempt anything like creating a gandr. I have been working on it
for a couple of years now, and I'm not there, but there's nothing to feel
ashamed about in this. As modern people, the majority of us women in the
Western world don't grow up spinning. We don't start from childhood and spend
hours every day practicing. Most Heathens, even women, don't even understand
how the spindle could be considered sacred, and I find this sad.
I appreciate that this blog post has been very long, it's
taken me around 3-4 hours to put down the ideas that have been whirling around
my head for the past few weeks, and it's by no means a complete theory. I
really hope for feedback, and to start a dialogue on this whole thing, I really
want to see where this goes. But I really hope that at the least, more ladies
pick up a spindle ;).
Sources (page numbers not given because this is a blog post
and not a scholarly paper and after almost 4 hours of writing, I'm done, so
nuh!)
1. L.M.C Weston - Women's Medicine, Women's Magic: The Old
English Metrical Childbirth Charms
2. Josh Rood - Establishing The Innangard: Some Concepts
Relating To Custom, Morality, And Religion. (Odroerir issue 2 http://odroerirjournal.com/?wpfb_dl=2)
3. P.V. Glob - The Bog People
4. Eldar Heide - Holy Islands and the Otherworld
5. Terry Gunnell - Goddess of the Marshes (presentation)
6. Ibid
7. Michael J Enright - The Goddess Who Weaves
8. Terry Gunnell - Goddess of the Marshes (presentation)
9. Erika Timm -
Frau Holle, Frau Percht, und verwandte Gestalten
10. Lotte Motz - The Goddess Nerthus: A New Approach
11. Michael J Enright - The Goddess Who Weaves
12. Terry Gunnell and Erika Timm
13. Terry Gunnell - Goddess of the Marshes
14. John McKinnell - On Heidr
15. Hilda Ellis Davidson - Roles of the Northern Goddess
16. John McKinnell - On Heidr
17. Ynglinga Saga Cha. 7
18. John McKinnell- On Heidr
19. Eldar Heide & Lesek Gardela
20. Katla from Eyrbyggja Saga Cha. 20 is one example of
this.
Sunday, October 7, 2012
October (UPG warning)
This past week has been one of significant changes in my life, in fact, in some ways the entire month of October is promising to be one long...I dunno... rite of passage?
The most striking thing to me so far is that this month of changes is going to be framed by blood at both the beginning and end. Last Tuesday (the second day of the month) I started my tattoo of dedication to Frija. Again, not really sure what else to call this tattoo, or how to explain just what it means to me. Language can be so clumsy, and wordhoards so unyielding, that I guess 'dedication' will have to do. I spent four hours in the chair, getting a tattoo that's big enough to be a half sleeve and need to go back to complete it on the final day of October.
The day after the tattoo was begun, I left my job, and my husband and I began the process of moving up north to a different town.
I couldn't be happier to get out of the place we were in. Quite frankly, it was *unhael*, the land itself felt angry, and it affected the people there. I have never lived around so many stomach complaints, or in so small a place with so many funeral parlours per head of population. For my own part, I had problems breathing, no energy and just felt depressed a lot. One day when sitting at the bus stop, this lady that was having a mental crisis came and sat next to me. She told me about how she'd lost her baby, how the father of the baby had left her, how she'd shoplifted some baby clothes that morning, how she wished her ex would talk to her and then she began ranting about how the village where we were was held together with pain and suffering. As logically unsound as all of that is, I really can't disagree with her.
The house we've moved to and the town we now live in is the polar opposite, not only does it feel *hael*, but strangely familiar in a way. I can feel something in the air here that is so familiar and exciting to me and that makes me happy. I can breathe better here, have more energy and feel more positive. Our animals are *much* happier and not just because of the garden.
Weirdly, all of our furniture and decor seems to match this house perfectly too, even though it was mostly bought on another continent. This place, even though we moved in two days ago, is already more home than the previous place was after a year. What's more, this place has wights, active ones that both my 'I'll ignore anything weird at all costs' husband and I have seen. One looks like a cat and the other is a previous resident that inhabits the workbench area of the basement. At first, he can be a little intimidating, but doesn't mean to scare people or animals. When I first went down there, I felt scared, but after muttering under my breath about creepy American basements and horror movies, the atmosphere changed, warmed up and now it's fine. When the cats arrived and we put them in the basement while we moved in, they hid under the workbench in the and had to be dragged out because they were so scared of being down there. I had a bit of a word, asked him to be nice to them and now they go down without any problems.
And as weird as this all sounds, as someone that grew up in a home in which things most definitely go bump in the night, this is far more homey and welcoming to me than a place with nothing there. Like the old place, or the soulless military housing before that.
So October is a time of changes, but I can't help but get the feeling that I'm exactly where I'm supposed to be.
The most striking thing to me so far is that this month of changes is going to be framed by blood at both the beginning and end. Last Tuesday (the second day of the month) I started my tattoo of dedication to Frija. Again, not really sure what else to call this tattoo, or how to explain just what it means to me. Language can be so clumsy, and wordhoards so unyielding, that I guess 'dedication' will have to do. I spent four hours in the chair, getting a tattoo that's big enough to be a half sleeve and need to go back to complete it on the final day of October.
The day after the tattoo was begun, I left my job, and my husband and I began the process of moving up north to a different town.
I couldn't be happier to get out of the place we were in. Quite frankly, it was *unhael*, the land itself felt angry, and it affected the people there. I have never lived around so many stomach complaints, or in so small a place with so many funeral parlours per head of population. For my own part, I had problems breathing, no energy and just felt depressed a lot. One day when sitting at the bus stop, this lady that was having a mental crisis came and sat next to me. She told me about how she'd lost her baby, how the father of the baby had left her, how she'd shoplifted some baby clothes that morning, how she wished her ex would talk to her and then she began ranting about how the village where we were was held together with pain and suffering. As logically unsound as all of that is, I really can't disagree with her.
The house we've moved to and the town we now live in is the polar opposite, not only does it feel *hael*, but strangely familiar in a way. I can feel something in the air here that is so familiar and exciting to me and that makes me happy. I can breathe better here, have more energy and feel more positive. Our animals are *much* happier and not just because of the garden.
Weirdly, all of our furniture and decor seems to match this house perfectly too, even though it was mostly bought on another continent. This place, even though we moved in two days ago, is already more home than the previous place was after a year. What's more, this place has wights, active ones that both my 'I'll ignore anything weird at all costs' husband and I have seen. One looks like a cat and the other is a previous resident that inhabits the workbench area of the basement. At first, he can be a little intimidating, but doesn't mean to scare people or animals. When I first went down there, I felt scared, but after muttering under my breath about creepy American basements and horror movies, the atmosphere changed, warmed up and now it's fine. When the cats arrived and we put them in the basement while we moved in, they hid under the workbench in the and had to be dragged out because they were so scared of being down there. I had a bit of a word, asked him to be nice to them and now they go down without any problems.
And as weird as this all sounds, as someone that grew up in a home in which things most definitely go bump in the night, this is far more homey and welcoming to me than a place with nothing there. Like the old place, or the soulless military housing before that.
So October is a time of changes, but I can't help but get the feeling that I'm exactly where I'm supposed to be.
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