From Iceland to the Americas: Vinland and Historical Imagination 9781526128751, 1526128756

Table of contents :
Front matter
Contents
List of figures and tables
Notes on contributors
Preface and acknowledgements
Introduction
Vinland on the brain: remembering the Norse
Part I: Imagination and ideology
Journeys to the centre of the mind: Iceland in the literary and the professorial imagination
The ‘Viking tower’ in Newport, Rhode Island: fact, fiction, and film
Critiquing Columbus with the Vinland sagas
Vinland and white nationalism
Part II: Landscapes and cultural memory
Migration of a North Atlantic seascape: Leif Eiriksson, the 1893 World’s Fair, and the Great Lakes landnám
Norwegian-American ‘missions of education’ and Old Norse literature
Americans in Sagaland: Iceland travel books 1854–1914
The good sense to lose America: Vinland as remembered by Icelanders
Part III: Recasting the past
Spectral Vikings in nineteenth-century American poetry
‘Who is this upstart Hitler?’: Norse gods and American comics during the Second World War
‘There’s no going back’: The Dark Knight and Balder’s descent to Hel
Old Norse in the New World: the mythology of emigration in Neil Gaiman’s American Gods
Bibliography
Index

Citation preview

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

Fsanctity R O M I C E Land A N Dpornography TO THE AMERICAS

in medieval culture

Series editors: Anke Bernau, David Matthews and James Paz Series founded by: J. J. Anderson and Gail Ashton Advisory board: Ruth Evans, Patricia C. Ingham, Andrew James Johnston, Chris Jones, Catherine Karkov, Nicola McDonald, Sarah Salih, Larry Scanlon and Stephanie Trigg

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

Founding series editors j. j. anderson, gail ashton

Manchester Medieval Literature and Culture publishes monographs and essay collections This series is broad in scope and receptive to innovation, bringing toge approaches. It is intended includeliterary monographs, collections of commi comprising new research informed by current critical methodologies ontothe and editions and/or translations of texts, with a focus on English and cultures of the Middle Ages. We are interested in all periods,literature fromand the early Middle Ages culture. It embraces medieval writings of many different kind historical, political, scientific, religious) as well as post-medieval treatme through to the late, and we include post-medieval engagements with and representations material. An important aim of the series is that contributions to it should is accessible to a wide of readers. of the medieval period (or ‘medievalism’). ‘Literature’ is takenstyle inwhich a broad sense, to range include the many different medieval genres: imaginative, historical, political, scientific, religious. already published Language and imagination in the Gawain-poems While we welcome contributions on the diverse cultures of medieval Britain  and are J. J. Anderson happy to receive submissions on Anglo-Norman, Anglo-Latin and Celtic writings, we are Water and fire: The myth of the Flood in Anglo-Saxon England Anlezark also open to work on the Middle Ages in Europe more widely,Daniel and beyond. The Parlement of Foulys (by Geoffrey Chaucer) D. S. Brewer (ed.)

Titles Available in the Series Greenery: Ecocritical readings of late medieval English literature Gillian Rudd 19. Visions and ruins: Cultural memory and the untimely Middle Ages Joshua Davies 20. Participatory reading in late-medieval England Heather Blatt 21. Affective medievalism: Love, abjection and discontent Thomas A. Prendergast and Stephanie Trigg 22. Performing women: Gender, self, and representation in late-medieval Metz Susannah Crowder 23. The politics of Middle English parables: Fiction, theology, and social practice Mary Raschko 24. Contemporary Chaucer across the centuries Helen M. Hickey, Anne McKendry and Melissa Raine (eds) 25. Borrowed objects and the art of poetry: Spolia in Old English verse Denis Ferhatovic´ 26. Rebel angels: Space and sovereignty in Anglo-Saxon England Jill Fitzgerald 27. A landscape of words: Ireland, Britain and the poetics of space, 700–1250 Amy Mulligan 28. Household knowledges in late-medieval England and France Glenn D. Burger and Rory G. Critten (eds) 29. Practising shame: Female honour in later medieval England Mary C. Flannery 30. Dating Beowulf: Studies in intimacy Daniel C. Remein and Erica Weaver (eds) 31. Enacting the Bible in medieval and early modern drama Eva von Contzen and Chanita Goodblatt (eds) 32. Riddles at work in the early medieval tradition: Words, ideas, interactions Megan Cavell and Jennifer Neville (eds) 33. From Iceland to the Americas: Vinland and historical imagination Tim William Machan and Jón Karl Helgason (eds)

From Iceland to the Americas

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

Vinland and historical imagination Edited by TIM WILLIAM MACHAN AND JÓN KARL HELGASON

Manchester University Press

Copyright © Manchester University Press 2020

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

While copyright in the volume as a whole is vested in Manchester University Press, copyright in individual chapters belongs to their respective authors, and no chapter may be reproduced wholly or in part without the express permission in writing of both author and publisher. Published by Manchester University Press Altrincham Street, Manchester M1 7JA www.manchesteruniversitypress.co.uk

British Library Cataloguing-in-Publication Data A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library

ISBN 978 1 5261 2875 1 hardback

First published 2020

The publisher has no responsibility for the persistence or accuracy of URLs for any external or third-party internet websites referred to in this book, and does not guarantee that any content on such websites is, or will remain, accurate or appropriate. Front cover—The Newport Tower in a late-nineteenth-century colourisation of an 1867 Harper’s Weekly print. Courtesy of Jim Egan

Typeset by Servis Filmsetting Ltd, Stockport, Cheshire

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

Contents

List of figures and tables Notes on contributors Preface and acknowledgements Introduction 1 Vinland on the brain: remembering the Norse – Tim William Machan Part I: Imagination and ideology 2 Journeys to the centre of the mind: Iceland in the literary and the professorial imagination – Seth Lerer 3 The ‘Viking tower’ in Newport, Rhode Island: fact, fiction, and film – Kevin J. Harty 4 Critiquing Columbus with the Vinland sagas – Matthew Scribner  5 Vinland and white nationalism – Verena Höfig Part II: Landscapes and cultural memory 6 Migration of a North Atlantic seascape: Leif Eiriksson, the 1893 World’s Fair, and the Great Lakes landnám – Amy C. Mulligan  7 Norwegian-American ‘missions of education’ and Old Norse literature – Bergur Þorgeirsson 8 Americans in Sagaland: Iceland travel books 1854−1914 – Emily Lethbridge 9 The good sense to lose America: Vinland as remembered by Icelanders – Simon Halink 

vii viii xii

3

27 45 61 77

101 122 137 160

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

vi

Contents

Part III: Recasting the past 10 Spectral Vikings in nineteenth-century American poetry – Angela Sorby 181 11 ‘Who is this upstart Hitler?’: Norse gods and American comics during the Second World War – Jón Karl Helgason198 12 ‘There’s no going back’: The Dark Knight and Balder’s descent to Hel – Dustin Geeraert  215 13 Old Norse in the New World: the mythology of emigration in Neil Gaiman’s American Gods – Heather O’Donoghue236 Bibliography Index

252 282

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

Figures and tables

Figures 6.1 The ship Viking at the Columbian World’s Fair, Chicago, 1893. (Public domain.) 6.2 Mayor Carter Harrison ‘captures the ship’ Viking. (Chicago Daily Tribune, 13 July 1893, p. 1. Public domain.) 6.3 The stave church on the fairgrounds at the 1893 World’s Columbian Exposition. (University of Chicago Photographic Archive, apf3–00040, Special Collections Research Center, University of Chicago Library. Used with permission.) 6.4 Signed copy of America Not Discovered by Columbus. (Author’s own copy, photo by Amy C. Mulligan.) 6.5 Statue of Leif Eiriksson by Sigvald Asbjørnsen in Humboldt Park, Chicago. (Photo by Amy C. Mulligan.) Tables 8.1 Travellers to Iceland mentioned or cited by the American authors. 8.2 Scholars mentioned or cited by the American authors.

102 107

111 116 117

151 153

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

Notes on contributors

Dustin Geeraert holds a PhD in English Literature from the University of Manitoba. As an Institute for the Humanities (UMIH) Research Affiliate, he guest edited a special volume of Scandinavian-Canadian Studies, The Modern Reception of the Medieval Saga of the Sworn Brothers (2019), and has published other studies on the reception of Old Norse literature. He also co-edited a volume of horror fiction inspired by Winnipeg: The Shadow Over Portage and Main (2016). His research has appeared in The Journal of the William Morris Society, The Lovecraft Annual, and Comitatus: A Journal of Medieval and Renaissance Studies, and has been presented at conferences such as ‘The Middle Ages in the Modern Era’ and ‘The Creative Power of the West Fjords in Icelandic Literature’. He teaches at the University of Manitoba. Simon Halink studied modern history and German literature in Utrecht and Berlin, and went on to write his PhD thesis at the University of Groningen on the role of Old Norse mythology in Icelandic national culture (c.1820–1918). He is affiliated with the Department of Icelandic and Comparative Cultural Studies of the University of Iceland, where he works as a sessional lecturer and researcher. His current postdoctoral research focuses on the post-medieval reception history of Snorri Sturluson and his ‘afterlife’ in the cultural memories of Iceland, Denmark, and Norway. Kevin J. Harty is Professor of English at La Salle University, where he has served as Chair of the department, as Director of University General Education, and as Special Assistant to the Provost for the University Core. He has published widely on the intersection of film and medieval literature and culture. His books include The Reel Middle Ages (1999), King Arthur on Film (1999), Cinema

List of contributors

ix

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

Arthuriana: Essays on Arthuriana Film (2002), The Vikings on Film (2011), and The Holy Grail on Film (2015). His Medieval Women on Film is scheduled for publication in 2020. His current project is a study of the Middle Ages as depicted on American, Canadian, and British television from 1946 to the present. Jón Karl Helgason is Professor in the Department of Icelandic and Comparative Cultural Studies at the University of Iceland. He has published monographs and articles on cultural history, metafiction, and the afterlife of Iceland’s medieval literature, and co-edited collections of essays devoted to cultural sainthood, Egil’s Saga, and law and literature. His books include Hetjan og höfund­ urinn (1998), The Rewriting of Njáls Saga (1999), Höfundar Njálu (2001), Echoes of Valhalla (2017), and National Poets, Cultural Saints (co-authored with Marijan Dovic´, 2017). Verena Höfig is Assistant Professor in the Department of Germanic Languages and Literatures at the University of Illinois at Urbana-Champaign. She holds a PhD in Scandinavian Studies from UC Berkeley. Her research focuses on the intersections of literature, material culture, and social history in Scandinavia from the Viking Age until today. Her forthcoming book, Icelandic Origins – A History of Iceland’s First Viking Settler, examines representations of the figure of Ingolf Arnarson, the first Icelander, in the context of (national) identity, nationalism, and memory f­ ormation from the first literary texts to the present day. Another recent project has looked at the history of neo-paganism and heathenry in the United States – more specifically on how racist neo-pagan groups use Old Norse mythology for their radical agendas. Seth Lerer is Distinguished Professor of Literature at the University of California at San Diego. He has published widely on medieval literature, children’s literature, the history of the English language, and, most recently, Shakespeare. His book Error and the Academic Self (2002) won the Harry Levin Prize from the American Comparative Literature Association, and his book Children’s Literature: A Reader’s History from Aesop to Harry Potter (2008) won the National Book Critics Circle Award. He studied Old Norse at Oxford with Ursula Dronke and lived in Iceland in the summer of 1977, an experience remembered in his recent memoir, Prospero’s Son (2013).

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

x

List of contributors

Emily Lethbridge is Research Lecturer at the Árni Magnússon Institute for Icelandic Research in Reykjavík, Iceland. Her research and teaching focus primarily on the transmission of medieval Icelandic literature in different material contexts (manuscript, landscape and place names, and travel literature on Iceland). She also develops the online Icelandic Saga Map project (http://sagamap. hi.is). Her publications include journal articles, book chapters, and edited volumes – most recently, New Studies in the Manuscript Tradition of Njáls saga (co-edited with Svanhildur Óskarsdóttir, 2018) and the Árni Magnússon Institute journal Gripla 29 (2018). Tim William Machan is Professor of English at the University of Notre Dame. His research and teaching involve both medieval literature and historical linguistics. Focusing on Norse, Latin, and French as well as English, his medieval scholarship has explored the interplay among a variety of theoretical and practical concerns, including the cultural nuances of physical documents and multilingualism. His edition of the Eddic poem ‘The Sayings of Vafthrudnir’ (‘Vaf þrúðnismál’) appeared in a second edition in 2008, and his most recent books are What Is English? And Why Should We Care? (2013) and Imagining Medieval English: Language Structures and Theories, 500–1500 (2016). Amy C. Mulligan is Assistant Professor in Notre Dame’s Department of Irish Language and Literature and Fellow of both the Medieval Institute and the Keough-Naughton Institute for Irish Studies. The primary goal of her research and teaching has been to put medieval Celtic literature into transnational contexts and to demonstrate how these texts inform and are informed by other North Atlantic literary, cultural, and political traditions. With the support of NEH and Fulbright grants, she recently completed a monograph entitled A Landscape of Words: Ireland, Britain, and the Poetics of Irish Space (2019) and has edited, with Else Mundal, the volume Moving Words in the Nordic Middle Ages: Tracing Literacies, Texts and Verbal Communities (2019). Heather O’Donoghue is Professor of Old Norse at the University of Oxford. She has published widely on the reception of Old Norse-Icelandic literature, and especially on its influence on verse and prose in English, Irish, American, and German literature. Her books include The Genesis of a Saga Narrative: Verse and Prose in Kormaks Saga (1991), Skaldic Verse and the Poetics of Saga

List of contributors

xi

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

Narrative (2005), and From Asgard to Valhalla: The Remarkable History of the Norse Myths (2008). She is working on a book about the representation of time in the Sagas of Icelanders. Matthew Scribner received his PhD in medieval English literature at Queen’s University in Kingston, Ontario. He has ­ taught there and in the Icelandic Department of the University of Manitoba. He teaches at Carleton University and Algonquin College in Ottawa. His teaching and research focus on the intersections between medieval literature (English and Icelandic) and society. Angela Sorby is Professor of English and Creative Writing at Marquette University. Her books include a critical study, Schoolroom Poets (2005), Over the River and Through the Wood: An Anthology of Nineteenth-Century American Children’s Poetry (co-edited with Karen L. Kilcup, 2013), Poetry and Pedagogy ­ Across the Lifespan (co-edited with Sandra Lee Kleppe, 2018), and three collections of original poetry. Bergur Þorgeirsson is a literary scholar and a medievalist who studied at the University of Iceland and the University of Gothenburg in Sweden. He works as the director of Snorrastofa, a cultural and medieval research centre in West Iceland dedicated to the Icelandic medieval writer, poet, and chieftain Snorri Sturluson. His research has focused on Old Norse legendary sagas, Eddic poetry, and the reception of Old Norse literature in the late nineteenth and the early twentieth centuries.

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

Preface and acknowledgements

From Iceland to the Americas, an anthology of thirteen original critical essays, is an exercise in the reception of a small historical fact with wide-ranging social, cultural, and imaginative consequences. Specifically, medieval records claim that around the year 1000 Leif Eiriksson and other Nordic explorers sailed westwards from Iceland and Greenland to a place they called Vinland. Archaeological evidence has in fact verified this claim, though primarily by way of one small, short-lived Norse settlement in Newfoundland, which may not even have been Leif’s. Whether or not this settlement was his, however, the contact associated with him has had an outsized impact on cultural imagination in and of the Americas. Since the middle of the nineteenth century, indeed, novels, poetry, history, politics, arts and crafts, comics, films, and now video games have all reflected a rising interest in the medieval Norse and their North American presence. Uniquely in reception studies, From Iceland to the Americas approaches this dynamic between Nordic history and its reception by bringing together international authorities on mythology, language, film, and cultural studies, as well as on the literature that has dominated critical reception. Collectively, the essays not only explore the connections among medieval Iceland and the modern Americas, but also probe why medieval contact has become a modern cultural touchstone. Together, the essays point to contradictions in the reception of Vinland and the Vikings that may in fact partially account for this ongoing popularity. For nearly two centuries, there has been a persistent, even urgent desire to identify the historical truth of the Norse presence, both figurative and literal, in the Americas – to tell the authentic narrative. Yet the essays also suggest the malleability of this truth, particularly in relation to social, cultural, and political imperatives. And in this kind of search for authenticity, history comes to look more like mythology, for which critical judgements

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

Preface and acknowledgements

xiii

can rest on experience and expectation as much as on fact. If the Vinland reception myths can entertain, then, they also can project anxieties about ethnicity, race, and nationalism, which, perhaps counter-intuitively, lend a special sense of urgency to contemporary discussions of events that happened long ago as well as to their reception in the interim. The Middle Ages in general has taken on important roles in such arguments about cultural memory and the knowability of the past, and the Norse Middle Ages has been particularly prominent, even divisive, in discussions that turn on questions like these: What really happened in the Viking Age? How can we know? What relevance does it have today? How is cultural memory fashioned? Can ideas – and peoples and things – become unusable in discussions of the past? Are historical events responsible for what reception makes of them? From Iceland to the Americas cannot attempt, or even aspire, to answer all such questions. It offers instead a series of alternative narratives, some benign, some virulent, and some ambiguous and shifting combinations of both qualities. In doing so, it enacts a novel kind of reception history, in which events do not simply elicit responses but become ways to think about the past as well as the present. In these essays, the medieval Norse and their gods, whether in Vinland or elsewhere, are more than historical personages or ideas. They are continually evolving, modern figures, all at once proof of Scandinavian-American ethnicity; the means to affirm North America as a white, European discovery; a forge of social identity; and a dynamic intersection of medieval and modern emigration and settlement. Severed from real historical connections, Vikings and Vinland have increasingly served as cognitive tools that facilitate thinking about everything from literary p ­ roduction, to nationalism, to the power of human emotions and ideas, whether they relate to romantic ardour or to racism and misogyny. What perhaps began with Rafn’s 1837 Antiqvitates Americanæ, a volume mentioned in several of the essays, here ends with discussions of a movie and a novel that reveal the almost free associations that Norse material allows. In modern popular culture, it seems, images of Vinland and the Vikings can circulate without the awareness either of those who produce them or of those who see them. While we have grouped the essays under shared topics, this grouping is more a matter of convenience, or necessity, than of an inherent structure or of an implicit argument. The essays might equally be arranged by historical focus, from the nineteenth century to the twenty-first. And individual essays might well be read within

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

xiv

Preface and acknowledgements

multiple contexts: Sorby’s for what it says about ethnicity, pedagogy, and imagination; Þorgeirsson’s for what it says about imagination, cultural practice, and historiography; and Lerer’s for what it says about historiography, cognition, and literature. The volume could conclude as easily with Höfig’s essay as with O’Donoghue’s, though the former conclusion would be a far more sombre and even pessimistic one than the latter. This kind of conceptual applicability illustrates perhaps the essays’ most important implication for medieval studies, especially Norse medieval studies, in the modern world: the meanings of Vinland and the Vikings are not in fact foregone conclusions on a teleological trajectory. They are, rather, continually in process, depending, above all, on the contexts of users and uses. Ultimately, the nature of the topic is such that its component parts continue – and, we hope, will continue – to talk back and forth with one another, across time, across disciplines, and across objectives. We want also to say a word about the book’s treatment of Icelandic names, a perennial challenge in works on the Norse Middle Ages. Characters and places mentioned in the Eddas, sagas, and historical records appear in the most common English translated forms in recent translations of these texts, such as Leif Eiriksson and Thingvellir. Spellings of names in quoted translations are left intact, however. Titles of medieval Icelandic texts and manuscripts are accompanied by English translations, but titles of published critical works are given in their original language. In the Bibliography and Index, Icelandic patronymics are treated as if they were Christian surnames, so that Finnur Magnússon appears as Magnússon, Finnur. Finally, for his valuable assistance in preparing the manuscript for production and compiling the index, we thank Zachary Melton, whose work was generously funded by the University of Iceland Research Fund. And we are glad to note as well that the volume was the inspiration for a conference of the same name that was held at the University of Notre Dame on 24–26 September 2018. The event gave contributors the opportunity to share penultimate versions of their chapters with a learned audience, and in the process, we believe, not only write stronger individual chapters but help fashion a more coherent volume. The University of Notre Dame is an especially welcoming venue for such medieval endeavours, and for the conference in particular we are happy to acknowledge crucial funding from a Faculty Assistance Program – Initiation Grant, the Institute for Scholarship in the Liberal Arts, the Notre

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

Preface and acknowledgements

xv

Dame College of Arts and Letters, the Henkels Lecture Series, the Medieval Institute, the Nanovic Institute for European Studies, and the Department of English. For help in organising and managing the conference, we thank Lauri Roberts, Christopher Abram, Thomas Burman, Jesse Lander, Lynn McCormack, and Megan Hall, as well as Will Beattie, Rich Fahey, Rachel Hanks, Margie Housley, Emily Mahan, Emily McLemore, Logan Quigley, Shela Raman, and Becky West. Tim William Machan and Jón Karl Helgason

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

Introduction

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

1 Vinland on the brain: remembering the Norse Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

Tim William Machan

In 1875 the Victorian scholar-adventurer Richard Burton, reflecting on a century of English engagement with Iceland and its natural wonders, observed that the ‘travellers of the early century saw scenes of thrilling horror, of majestic grandeur, and of heavenly beauty, where our more critical, perhaps more cultivated, taste finds very humble features’. For in their enthusiasm, early visitors like Ebenezer Henderson, George Mackenzie, and Henry Holland had created a dilemma for those who followed: to embrace their predecessors’ calculated zeal and possibly reproduce its extravagances, or to effect a more measured response and hazard the criticism and even rejection of their own peers. ‘They had “Iceland on the Brain”’, Burton continues, ‘and they were wise in their generation: honours and popularity await the man who ever praises, the thorough partisan who never blames’.1 Iceland on the Brain – an evocative phrase that describes an ­experience transformative if also ominous. It calls to mind an external force that, whether desired or not, imposes itself on an individual’s character and thought processes. And, in fact, it is not an inapt way to describe what Britons and other European visitors experienced in Iceland in the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries. Buoyed by the first wave of romantic musings like Bishop Percy’s Five Pieces of Runic Poetry and Thomas Gray’s ‘The Descent of Odin’, early travellers witnessed a spectacular but menacing landscape of volcanoes and glaciers, vistas unlike any to be found in Great Britain. William Morris, an Iceland enthusiast writing at nearly the same time as Burton, nonetheless described the island as ‘an awful place: set aside the hope that the unseen sea gives you here, and the strange threatening change of the blue spiky mountains beyond the firth, and the rest seems emptiness and nothing else; a piece of turf under your feet, and the sky overhead, that’s all’.2 With intense if conflicting sentiments like these, it is

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

4

Introduction

hardly surprising that some travellers praised the aching beauty of Iceland’s waterfalls and geysers, even as others came to regard the constantly unstable volcano Hekla as the Hell-mouth and the Snæfellsnes Glacier as an entrance to the centre of the earth. This is a book about a related strain of brain fever, one whose earliest cases can be diagnosed about two centuries ago. Its symptoms have included poems, novels, travel books, translations, inscriptions, artefacts, archaeological digs, legislation, films, comic books, video games, statues, restaurants, music camps, racism, and even a theme park. Having gripped Canada, the United States, and South America, the fever now has spread across the globe. To paraphrase Burton, it might be called Vinland on the brain. Vinland, of course, is the area that Norse sagas and other medieval Nordic records designate as the Western Hemispheric place where Norse travellers from Iceland and Greenland made land, encountered hostile indigenous peoples, and established brief settlements. Certainly in North America and probably lying more northerly than southerly, the precise location of Vinland, despite decades of research and the strong convictions of many ­researchers, may never be known, if only because, in accordance with Norse geography, Vinland never had a precise location. Thingvellir, the site of the annual Icelandic parliament and social gathering, very much was and is a specific place. But Vinland as well as Markland and Helluland, respectively the forested and rocky areas also mentioned in medieval sources, would have been relational terms rather than locations with exact geographic coordinates. Vinland, then, was neither Markland nor Helluland, and it was the last and furthest south of the North American places first visited by the Norse. It must also have been far enough south for grapes to have grown there, since the first element in the Norse form of the name seems incontrovertibly to have been vín (wine) and not vin (meadow), as some critics have argued.3 That quality would probably rule out Newfoundland and any place north of it, but doing so still leaves a lot of land to the south, in present-day Canada, the United States, and, in theory, Central and South America. Outside these generalities, the Norse sources offer only tantalising details that do little to narrow down the geographic possibilities. As vague as the specifics of Vinland might have been, however, there is no doubt that Icelanders and Greenlanders did at least step onto the North American continent sometime around the year 1000. The longhouses at L’Anse aux Meadows in northern Newfoundland, discovered and excavated by Helge Ingstad and

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

Vinland on the brain: remembering the Norse

5

Anne Stine Ingstad in the 1960s, offer unarguable proof of this. Not only their architectural style but also their layout and positioning are characteristically Norse and, concomitantly, would be uncharacteristic for the culture of either the Thule Inuit or the Dorset, the first peoples who lived throughout the region and who would have been the first North Americans to encounter Norse visitors. The presence of smelted iron and several artefacts could have come only from the Norse, and a spindle whorl could have come only from a Norse woman. Occupied for at most ten to twenty years, the eight buildings, which might have accommodated as many as fifty men and women at any one time, by themselves provide evidence neither for why they were erected where they were nor for why they were abandoned, although the site seems by design to have been more of a place to stage shipping than a genuine farm or settlement. The only other possible (if still unlikely) Norse sites in North America are on Baffin Island and at Point Rosee on the southern end of Newfoundland.4 Outside of L’Anse aux Meadows, genuine Norse artefacts – shards, smelted iron, fragments of tools, carved bones, figurines, boat nails, chain mail, and so forth – have been found across Greenland and Arctic Canada, as well as in Maine. Such finds might be the remnants of an actual on-site Norse presence, but they also could imply the existence of trade networks by which goods moved from Iceland and Greenland into North America or even contact between indigenous peoples and the Norse in Norse Greenlandic settlements.5 None of this evidence, in any case, suggests a sustained Norse presence in the Americas after the beginning of the eleventh century or, perhaps, ever. Nonetheless, memories of Vinland persisted in Iceland and the Nordic regions for several centuries. In the 1060s Adam of Bremen relays that, while he was at the Danish court of King Svein Estridsson, the king told him of an island named Vinland on which wine grapes and other crops grew abundantly.6 The Icelandic Annals of 1121 notes that Greenland’s Bishop Eirik Gnupsson went to Vinland, although whether he went expecting to find a colony or no one at all depends on how one translates the Old Norse verb leita.7 But if this source is to be believed, he at least did go there. Another twelfth-century geographical treatise mentions Helluland and Markland as well as Vinland, and in the same period the Icelandic historian Ari Thorgilsson says that his uncle Thorkel Gellisson had told him of Vinland and that Thorkel had got his own information from one of Greenland’s original settlers.8 Another well-known Norse reference to North America occurs in

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

6

Introduction

a later entry in the Icelandic Annals, this one from 1347, which records the arrival of a small craft carrying seventeen men ‘who had been on a voyage to Markland and later had been driven by gales to this land’.9 Of course, the most familiar and detailed accounts of the Norse in North America – so detailed, in fact, that they have often been accepted as factual, serving as roadmaps for Norse activity – are The Saga of the Greenlanders (Grænlendinga saga) and Eirik the Red’s Saga (Eiríks saga rauða), both from the thirteenth century. Blending credible historical detail (like skin-boats, or canoes) with phenomena that recall contemporary accounts of the wonders of the East (like unipeds), the sagas in particular would seem to verify a Norse presence. But, again, they do not indicate the exact location of these landings, much less the possibility that Norse settlers, besides those ultimately associated with Leif Eiriksson, might have journeyed elsewhere in the area. And the Vinland sagas are not dispassionate historical records but crafted pieces of prose in the tradition of the Sagas of Icelanders (Íslendingasögur), with all of their events and characters shaped by the works’ narrative designs. All of these later accounts were written down well after the events they describe, and just what their terseness meant is not easy to say. Perhaps by the late Middle Ages Vinland had become just a dim memory, or perhaps trips there were so common as to merit no elaboration. Then again, it might be that any such trips were marginal and essentially inconsequential in the late medieval North Atlantic experience. In the centuries after the settlement period, indeed, as well as in the later saga accounts of this period, Icelandic writings emphasised larger, culture-defining matters like the landnám (settlement) itself, family and district history, and the conversion to Christianity, especially as these matters helped define Icelandic–Norwegian relations.10 From this perspective, Vinland would have been irrelevant. After the Middle Ages, Nordic references to Vinland and even Greenland become still more erratic and even cryptic. In the early fifteenth century, the Dane Claudius Claussøn Swart described Greenland as an island that is connected by a land-bridge to Karelia, across which, as he claims himself to have seen, ‘infidels’ daily attack in huge armies. He may have imagined Vinland to be attached to this land-bridge as well, though he does not mention the place by name.11 A papal letter from the century’s close expresses concern that no outsiders had been to Greenland in eighty years, during which time, according to the rumours

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

Vinland on the brain: remembering the Norse

7

that reached the Pope, many Greenlanders had abandoned their faith.12 In the seventeenth century, at Iceland’s bishopric Skálholt, according to Finnur Magnússon, Bishop Gísli Oddsson saw an anonymous Latin manuscript that referred to North America. This manuscript stated that in 1342 the Greenlanders willingly abandoned their faith and converted themselves to the people of America (‘ad Americæ populos se converterunt’),13 and it was for this reason that Christians now stayed away from Greenland. North of both Iceland and Greenland, the document claimed, lay a region named Jötnaland (giant land) or Tröllbotnaland (troll-bay land). Magnússon goes on to reference several trips to Greenland or attacks perpetrated on the Norse Greenlanders by skrælingjar (skrælings or ‘weaklings’, the Norse word used in reference to Native Americans and Inuit alike).14 But even if these references are historically accurate and not fabrications, they, like Swart’s description and the papal letter, reveal nothing about the status of Vinland, other than that seventeenth-century Icelanders believed that Greenland at least was well inhabited in the fourteenth century, and that nineteenth-century Icelanders and Danes, in turn, believed them. Perhaps the most intriguing post-medieval Nordic reference to Vinland comes from the 1520 testimonial of a parish priest in Fet, Norway, who claimed that an abandoned farm named Birkefloten belonged to the vicarage. Rather inscrutable is the role played in this affair by one Olaf Byrien, who testified that he was born and married in Vinland, and that he had dwelt there for some time. Apparently, Byrien’s nativity and upbringing somehow disqualified him from any claim to the Norwegian farm.15 It should go without saying that he had certainly never set foot in Vinland, and so the truly remarkable thing to me (again) is the dispassionate way in which all this is announced, as if claims of a Vinland origin were commonplace for sixteenth-century Norwegians. That, or Byrien’s assertions are so outrageous – the medieval equivalent of alien abduction – that they require no comment. Indeed, while postmedieval references to Greenland persist into the early modern period, Vinland generally drops from notice. When the Dane Hans Egede visited Greenland in 1721, he did so with the conviction that he would find descendants of the original settlers, but he never seems to have contemplated a further trip to Vinland, which, in fact, he does not mention in his subsequent narrative of his visit.16 From the North American perspective, references to the Norse presence are still rarer, even non-existent, for the simple reason

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

8

Introduction

that most tenth- and eleventh-century indigenous cultures lacked writing of any kind. Memories could be passed on only by oral tradition, then, and nearly five centuries passed between the L’Anse aux Meadows settlement and the regular presence in the region of English explorers and merchants. Another century would pass before the establishment of Jamestown in Virginia, the first permanent North American Anglophone settlement. Still, some memories may have persisted. In 1858 Hinrich Rink, a Danish scientist, visited Greenland to study its glaciers and geology. From Danish missionaries there, he learned of Inuit folklore that possibly referred to contacts with the Norse. At what time these contacts took place, whether in the tenth or fifteenth century, is impossible to say, though they do indicate a sometimes adversarial relationship. In one tale, an Inuk’s killing of two Norse Greenlanders leads to something like a blood feud that concludes with the death of a certain Ungortok, possibly an Inuit approximation of the Norse name Ingvar.17 Beginning in the nineteenth century and catalysed by several contributing factors, these thin contacts and records gave rise to the Vinland fever illustrated throughout this volume. In some outbreaks, the thirteenth-century The Saga of the People of Eyri (Eyrbyggja saga) has proved particularly influential. At one point the saga tells of how Gudleif Gunnlaugsson, in the days of St Olaf (so before 1030), sailed west around Ireland and was blown farther west by a gale. Arriving at an unknown land, the crew encounters men who speak ‘Irish’ – hundreds of them, in fact; they bind the crew and take them to a court that decides to kill some and enslave the rest. A great man arrives and asks for Gudleif, whom he addresses in Icelandic, enquiring about where in Iceland Gudleif and his crew came from and revealing that he and Gudleif know several people in common. After taking the counsel of his people, the man tells Gudleif that he and his crew can return home but refuses to divulge his own name, lest any of his family should come looking for him.18 This is a strange story, no less so for occurring at the end of a saga populated by other oddities, including pagans, ghosts, and various kinds of revenants. Stranger still may be the notion that Gudleif and his crew landed in Mexico, a line of reasoning that leads to several alleged Central and South American Viking finds. Some critics have argued, for example, that the Aztec god Quetzalcoatl, a figure part bird or serpent and part human, originated as a representation of a Norseman; that the Aztecs themselves may have descended

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

Vinland on the brain: remembering the Norse

9

from the Norse; that the murals in the Temple of the Warriors in Chichen Itza (in the Yucatan), produced between about AD 600 and 900, depict Western Europeans; and that various alleged colonial encounters with blonde, blue-eyed indigenous peoples were in fact with descendants of the Norse who came from Iceland and Greenland to the Americas. The Eyrbyggjan rationale, as it might be called, was put to its greatest use by the Paraguayan engineer Vicente Pistilli (­ 1933–2013) and the French archaeologist Jacques de Mahieu (1915–90), whose works have been crucial to the persistence of patently absurd arguments about Norse–South American contact and, in effect, the location of Vinland there. In a 1978 book Pistilli advanced the case for the Norse settlement of Paraguay. The village of Torín, he argued, had been named for Thor, while the word ‘Paraguay’ itself (from the Guaraní pará for ‘sea’) means ‘warriors of the sea’, a ‘name typical of the Vikings’.19 Pistilli further claims to identify runic inscriptions, a Viking ‘temple’, and the ruins of ‘VikingaGuaraní en la Cuenca del Plata’ (a Viking village in the Basin of the River Plate) that have (he says) characteristics of Trelleborg, the tenth-century ring fortress on the Danish island of Zealand that was built during the reign of Harald Bluetooth.20 According to Pistilli, after Leif Eiriksson came upon North America, he sailed south, and led by one Ullman, or ‘el hombre de Ull’, passed by Pánuco on the east coast of Mexico, near Tampico; a map on the book’s cover illustrates part of the journey. Norse people were still in Paraguay at the beginning of the fourteenth century and, with the Guaranís as allies, constructed the city of Tava Guasú, leaving indelible physical and social traces of their presence. Later, conquistadors encountered their descendants in a tribe of white indigenes, whose own descendants are the Guayki (or Aché), peaceful hunter-gatherers of eastern Paraguay with pale skin and ‘European features’.21 Drawing heavily on Pistilli’s work, but also extending his own previous efforts, de Mahieu claims to have found other signs of a Norse presence in Paraguay: ruined Norse structures; a distinctively South American futhark; a fortress at Cerro Corá with a mural 300 metres by 10 metres and containing runes and images of Odin, Sleipnir, and a dragon; and a hollowed hill that the indigenous people call ‘the fortress of the white king Ipir’. De Mahieu argues that a Norse presence in Central and South America began well before Leif’s voyages, with the landing in Mexico of Jarl Ullman of Schleswig in 967, whom the Aztecs transformed into

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

10

Introduction

the god Quetzalcoatl. Unhappy that his army had begun to mix and intermarry with the indigenous people, Ullman led them south to Venezuela and Colombia. It was a descendant of Ullman’s force, Naymlap, who brought the group to Peru, giving rise there to an Incan empire led by a Norse elite. From only about 5,000 original colonisers, de Mahieu calculated, a population of about 80,000 had arisen by the end of the thirteenth century. According to this improbable expansion of Pistilli’s impossible genealogy, the indigenous Guayakís are descendants of a group of Vikings who may have been refugees from the Tiahuanacu Empire; if true, this would mean the Norse were in Bolivia as well. He argues that after 1290 a Norse population remained for a long time in the jungle, some even carving runes as late as the fifteenth century. But as with Ullman’s group in Mexico, the Norse people experienced degeneration (‘degeneración’) through mixing with indigenous peoples. Their descendants (which in fact, according to de Mahieu, ‘is the meaning of the word Inca in Norse’), their traditions, and their language may have survived even longer but certainly were gone by the time Pizarro and the conquistadors arrived in 1524. ‘The Spaniards completed the picture’, he concludes, ‘by marrying the girls of the white aristocracy and by reducing their brothers to slavery’. All in all, ‘The civilizing epic of the men of the north had lasted five hundred years’.22 It is, of course, easy and appropriate to ridicule arguments like these, based as they are on an apparently wilful misreading of historical sources, no understanding of recorded Norse history, and improbabilities like Paraguay, a landlocked country, meaning ‘warriors of the sea’. And I have not even mentioned the mummified remains of an Incan dog, which, it turns out, has been judged to have been born in Bundsö, Denmark.23 But I recount these arguments here not simply to ridicule them but to introduce some of the darker aspects of Vinland fever, and those are the political implications that it has carried from its earliest days. Pistilli’s book, for example, begins with an introduction by General Marcial Samaniego, who assisted Alfredo Stroessner in a 1954 coup d’état in Paraguay that led to thirty-five years of effectively military rule, characterised by, among other things, the fostering of Nazi war criminals and the brutal harassment of indigenous peoples – among them the Aché, with their pale skin and European ­features – that has left them still severely impoverished and socially constrained today.24 A war criminal himself, de Mahieu served in the Waffen SS and fled to Argentina in 1946 on the first plane

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

Vinland on the brain: remembering the Norse

11

there from Europe after the Second World War. A Peronist until his death, de Mahieu was a self-proclaimed scientist who directed the Institute of Anthropology in Buenos Aires and participated in pagan summer solstice gatherings of former Nazis. He was also an avowed ­anti-Semite – which gives some historical depth to his concerns about the degeneration of the Norse population in South America – and while he wrote in French, his books were translated into German by one of Joseph Goebbels’s assistants, Wilfred von Oven, who himself had fled to Argentina.25 While arguments like these may have no traction among scholars, they certainly have made their way to the mainstream public. The Norwegian Thor Heyerdahl, who sailed his reed-boat Kon-Tiki from Peru across the Pacific Ocean to prove that South Americans had settled Polynesia, advocated a similar diffusionist theory of migration that put northern whites as the progenitors of global cultural achievements. His raft was named for Viracocha, a presumptively pre-Incan figure who was white, bearded, and taller than the indigenous people and who had come from the north and east. By Heyerdahl’s thesis, the pre-Incan people who left South America for Polynesia were themselves bearded and white, and although Heyerdahl never seems to have explicitly said they were Norse, he did claim that their white, bearded descendants had been found in Polynesia by the earliest European explorers and that the Incans had told the conquistadors about the legend.26 The KonTiki now resides in a purpose-built museum in Oslo, which makes no mention of Heyerdahl’s overtly racist inclinations. If all of this biography is as chilling as the arguments are absurd, it may be more chilling and more absurd to realise that there are people today who take Pistilli, de Mahieu, and Heyerdahl quite seriously.27 And if this South American narrative casts something of a pall over the exuberant North American influences of Vinland fever that I am about to sketch, I mean it to do so. As I noted at the outset, these influences began innocently enough, in the northern literary connections Percy drew in his 1770 Northern Antiquities or in the stylised late eighteenth-century Norse imitations like Percy’s Five Runic Pieces and Gray’s ‘The Descent of Odin’.28 Expanding on several centuries of musings about a shared English–Scandinavian ethnic identity and written during the emergence of the United Kingdom, Percy’s and Gray’s efforts inspired a veritable explosion of nineteenth-century interest in the medieval Norse world, imaginatively expressed in saga translations by George Webbe Dasent and others, historical novels like William Morris’s Thorstein of the

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

12

Introduction

Mere, and assorted paintings and carvings. The phrase ‘Vikings and Victorians’, to borrow the title of Andrew Wawn’s excellent book on these phenomena, sums up a mindset that was equal parts whimsy and historical social engineering.29 A peculiarly North American version of Vinland fever began to spread with the 1837 publication of the Dane Carl Christian Rafn’s Antiqvitates Americanæ, which claimed to identify Viking artefacts across the eastern seaboard of the United States (an area he had in fact never visited) and introduced the Vinland sagas and other Vinland materials, in Latin translations, to the modern world. Generally credited with inspiring North America’s own traditions of Norse-themed poems, novels, and translations – including the first North American English translation of the Vinland sagas in 184130 – Antiqvitates Americanæ can also be thought to have led, eventually, to films, comic books, and video games. And as in Britain, both whimsy and social engineering have animated North American responses to the medieval Norse past. Whimsy alone might well account for the alleged discovery of Viking age axes, swords, runic carvings, skeletons, coins, mooring holes, and even a stone tower in Newport – discoveries, I hasten to add, that have been made not simply along the Atlantic shore but as far inland as Iowa, Minnesota, and Oklahoma.31 Or perhaps the discoveries owe to whimsy coupled with ethnic identification among the millions of Scandinavians who emigrated to North America beginning in the late nineteenth century. Between 1870 and 1914 alone, fifteen to twenty thousand Icelanders, amounting to a quarter of the island’s population, left their homeland for Canada or the United States.32 It would seem not only understandable but well-meaning and even reasonable for such immigrants to desire to find material evidence of some ancestral connection between their homelands and their own new world. The fraternal organisations that spread in the aftermath of Scandinavian emigration, organisations like the Sons of Norway, reflect just such a desire. Yet this same desire also has led to less benign social engineering, even anxiety, in North America, where Vinland and the Vinland sagas always have figured more significantly, in both popular culture and academic criticism, than in Britain, Scandinavia, Australia, and elsewhere.33 And the obvious reason is the fact that, whatever Vinland’s precise location, it clearly was in North America and it is perhaps the only legitimate physical link between the Americas and medieval Europe. As in several of the South American narratives I described earlier, then, Norse findings can be traced, at least

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

Vinland on the brain: remembering the Norse

13

in theory, to a named place and named individuals, giving them all the greater frisson of verisimilitude. More importantly, a late nineteenth-century discovery in North America meant discovery in a country, in the case of the United States, that was barely a century old or, in the case of Canada, in a very recent confederation still politically subject to Great Britain. If Vinland finds connected North America to Europe, they could equally serve contemporary nation-building sentiments, giving a distinctively political edge to the concept of Vikings and Victorians as it has taken shape in North America.34 The Kensington Runestone, one of the most famous of the bogus Norse artefacts, can be looked at in this light. Allegedly discovered in west-central Minnesota in 1898 by a Swedish immigrant farmer named Olof Ohman, the stone’s carving claims to tell the story of eight Gotlanders and twenty-two Norwegians who, having travelled far to the west of Vinland (‘fro vinland of vest’), returned one day from fishing only to find the ten men they had left behind were red with blood and dead (‘röde af blod og ded’) – killed, presumably, by some group of Native Americans.35 Remaining behind with the ships at the sea – said to be a fourteenday journey away – is another group of ten men, whom the survivors evidently hastened to join, though only after pausing, rather implausibly I think, to carve the stone. Dated 1362, the stone is absurd in every imaginable linguistic, historical, petrological, geographical, and sociological sense. And not surprisingly, it was immediately dismissed as a fraud – even, perhaps, a practical joke. Ohman allegedly said, in fact, that his intention was to do something that would ‘bother the brains of the learned’.36 Bother them he did, when the stone caught the attention of Hjalmar Holand, a Norwegian immigrant and amateur historian who devoted his life to studying Norwegian-American settlements in general and to advancing the cause of the Kensington Runestone in particular. Indefatigable and impervious to common sense or any scholarly conventions or corrections, Holand relentlessly championed the idea that the Norse had been to Minnesota as an extension of Paul Knutson’s alleged 1354 visit to Greenland (on behalf of Sweden’s King Magnus) in order to ascertain the state of the Greenlanders’ faith. Holand’s 1940 book, Westward from Vinland: An Account of Norse Discoveries and Explorations in America 982–1362, identified mooring stones along a path of movement across Hudson Bay to western Minnesota and discussed objects found by locals that substantiated this preposterous narrative. But though p ­ reposterous,

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

14

Introduction

the narrative was convincing enough for the runestone to be exhibited from 1948 to 1949 at the Smithsonian Institution and at the 1965 New York World’s Fair. From one perspective, all this is as charming as that mummified Incan dog. Holand clearly touched a nerve in a great many people and not only those of Scandinavian descent. In fact, in the 1960s, according to one estimate, over 60 per cent of people in Minnesota believed that the Norse had been the first Europeans to arrive there.37 The runestone narrative as Holand fabricated it has inspired Elizabeth Coatsworth’s 1950 novel, Door to the North: A Saga of Fourteenth Century America; Laura Goodman Salverson’s 1954 novel, Immortal Rock: The Saga of the Kensington Stone; Margaret Leuthner’s 1962 comic book, Mystery of the Runestone; and a significant part of the identity of Alexandria, Minnesota. Today, indeed, the town has a Runestone Park as well as a Runestone Museum whose exhibits include, according to the website, ‘the world famous Kensington Runestone’.38 There is a Viking Plaza mall, a Catholic church named ‘Our Lady of the Runestone’, and an enormous statue of Big Ole, a horned-helmeted Viking. A bit up the road, in Fergus Falls, the Viking Café serves a ‘Vik Vuffin’ sandwich. A lot of this enthusiasm, I suspect, is tongue-in-cheek. But as with that Incan dog, it also has an unsettling quality, which is not simply the extent of human gullibility. People have wanted to believe not only that Norsemen had come to Minnesota but that they had been slaughtered there by Native Americans. In this regard, the date of the alleged attack may not be coincidental. The year 1362, several critics have pointed out, was 500 years before the war between the United States and the Dakota plains tribes, which entailed many killings on both sides, including an 1862 massacre at Norwegian-Swedish settlements at Norway Lake and West Lake, approximately 55 miles southeast of Kensington.39 Culminating that December in a mass hanging of prisoners in Mankato, Minnesota (a further 110 miles southeast), the war epitomised lingering white resentment and, whatever the forger’s intentions, would have offered a context for receiving the stone as both a reminder of Native American savagery and a monument to martyred Scandinavian forebears. By connecting the Kensington stone to Knutson’s alleged trip, further, Holand provided a Christian motivation for the story. The commemorated Norsemen were not brigands and pirates from the days of Egil Skallagrimsson – or, for that matter, mercenaries in pursuit of gold, as Columbus and

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

Vinland on the brain: remembering the Norse

15

his followers sometimes were understood to be. The stone commemorates instead religious men on a religious expedition who were slaughtered by pagans. Because the alleged expedition took place before the Reformation, and despite the fact that its biggest champions were primarily Protestant Scandinavians, the stone could even affirm an early, specifically Catholic presence in North America.40 As a forgery that effectively erased differences between an actual Viking, a fourteenth-century Norseman, and a nineteenthcentury Scandinavian immigrant, the stone has given rise to all manner of cultural discourses about history and identity. Indeed, everything about the story has become mythologised: Ohman, his finding of the stone, Holand’s efforts to advance its authenticity, the events the stone allegedly narrates, the relevance of these events to nineteenth-century Scandinavian settlements, the implications the stone has (or can have) for ethnicity and cultural identity today, and the open public controversy, in some quarters, still surrounding all of the above. To a large extent, responses to the stone promote distinctions based on observers’ levels of education and aesthetic sensibilities, as well as on their sentiments about binaries like urban/rural, regional/national, and white/non-white. And like all myths, these have given rise to still more myths, including the 1948 discovery of a second stone that talks about four maidens encamped in 1368 and also a nearby ‘Viking Altar Rock’, where Catholic mass was allegedly held. In Harris Burkhalter’s words, While runestone supporters drew the stone into their stories of an ancient heritage on the North American continent and, in particular, the Midwest, Scandinavian opponents viewed it as detrimental to the public image of their ethnic group. Like the runestone supporters, those who denied the authenticity of the Kensington Runestone drew on their Norwegian-American identities to justify their actions.41

As a historical object created to affirm cultural truths, the stone has thus helped define the ethnic identity not just of Minnesota but of the United States. Which brings me back to Leif Eiriksson, who by the time of the Kensington Runestone’s discovery had become something of a cult figure in North America.42 And here again, a mixture of whimsy and anxiety runs through the discussions of Vinland and its American relevance. In all seriousness, Albert Welles’s 1879 The Pedigree and History of the Washington Family argues that

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

16

Introduction

George Washington is a direct descendant of Thorfinn Thordarson Karlsefni, whom the sagas identify as the leader of a trip to colonise Vinland. And not just of him but of the Danish king Harald Bluetooth, Hrolf Ox-Thorisson the Walker (the Norse founder of Normandy), and, ultimately Odin. Says Welles, ‘The remarkable resemblance of character between Odin and his descendant Washington, separated by a period of eighteen centuries, is so great as to excite the profound and devout astonishment of the genealogical student – one the Founder of the most eminent race of Kings and Conquerors, and the other of the grand Republic of America.’43 Having Odin in one’s family tree would of course be gratifying, but in the late nineteenth century having Thorfinn Karlsefni there may have been more significant. Indeed, despite his genealogical focus, Welles dwells on Leif’s voyage, explaining that the skeleton discovered in 1831 in Fall River, Massachusetts and commemorated in Longfellow’s ‘The Skeleton in Armor’ was that of Leif’s brother Thorvald, and that Snorri Thorfinnsson, whom the sagas present as the first European born in North America, was in fact born ‘in the present State of Massachusetts, in the year 1008’.44 Leif assumed increasing significance in the rise of a kind of edgy cottage industry, professional as well as amateur and devoted to the discovery of Norse influences and evidence of Vinland. And so Rasmus B. Anderson, a professor at the University of WisconsinMadison, published an influential book with a title that was direct and to the point: America Not Discovered by Columbus. Bringing together materials on Viking history and relying on saga accounts, Anderson presents Columbus as a fraud who consulted Norse materials in the Vatican and there discovered records dating to an encounter with Gudrid, the wife of Thorfinn Karlsefni and mother of Snorri Thorfinnsson, who at the close of The Saga of the Greenlanders is said to go on a pilgrimage south. ‘Rome paid much attention to geographical discoveries’, Anderson argues, ‘and took pains to collect all new charts and reports that were brought there. Every new discovery was an aggrandisement of the papal dominion, a new field for the preaching of the Gospel. The Romans might have heard of Vinland before, but she brought personal evidence.’45 For his part, Eben Horsford, who made his money perfecting and marketing baking powder, argued that Leif’s booths were far from Newfoundland. By this argument, Leif had first landed on Cape Cod and then sailed up the Charles River ‘to the south

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

Vinland on the brain: remembering the Norse

17

end of Symonds’s hill near the Cambridge City Hospital. Here was the site of Leif’s houses’.46 And there, Horsford claimed, the ruined structures were still evident. As in South America, reports of white, blonde-haired, blue-eyed indigenes point to the Norse presence in this same region, while the very word America, according to Horsford, derives from the Norse name Eirik: ‘The natives of Vineland could not easily utter “Eirikr” or “Ærerkr” (Norse forms) without prefixing an m, – out of which, to the listener, arose “Em-erika” = America.’47 What made a connection to Leif and Vinland so desirable in the nineteenth-century United States was less whimsy than anxiety, however. Specifically, within the context of increased European immigration from eastern and southern Europe and the impending quincentenary of Columbus’s arrival in the Caribbean, apprehension over what might be called the country’s cultural and racial identity roiled issues that otherwise might simply have been absurd. If Columbus had been the first European arrival, then the United States could be stamped as Catholic and, by the racial stereo­types of the day, Mediterranean; if Leif was the first, then it was Protestant and Germanic. In either case, it was white, and hence the interest of Horsford and others in blonde, blue-eyed indigenes. Perhaps the most vocal proponents of the pro-Leif view were John and Marie Shipley, who between them published several books arguing for the presence and significance of Leif and a Vinland colony. Champions of the Gudrid-goes-to-Rome theory, the Shipleys consistently foregrounded the racial and social implications of an early Norse colony. ‘The vital question’, the Shipleys say at one point, ‘is not so much who discovered America, as which part of Europe, the North or the South, gave the impetus to American civilization.’48 They insist that Columbus’s motivation ‘was simply and solely papal aggrandisement, the gaining of a vast new territory for proselyting [sic] purposes; in other words, the establishing of the future empire of the Pope on the western continent’.49 Elsewhere, Marie Shipley asserts ‘that the wise-heads in the Eternal City were aware, almost as soon as the Icelanders themselves, that some of the adventurous sons of that race had pushed their explorations clear to remote lands across the ocean and founded colonies there’. It was Roman Catholic deceit, perfidy, and immorality that advanced the cause of Columbus, and to grant the ‘Italian adventurer’ the status of first European in North America is to condone the ‘[f]ear, envy, hatred, [and] a deep-seated animosity’ directed at the Norse in order to erase their memory as ‘the

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

18

Introduction

only obstacle to the sacerdotal plan of universal sovereignty, of the subjection of all mankind to the rule of the Cross’.50 Together the Shipleys demanded not simply the establishment of a national Leif Erikson Day but a Washington exhibit that recognised the real history of the Americas: ‘The ancient Republic of Iceland and our modern one would thus be placed side by side, the republic of the year 1000 and that of the year 1889, the United States honouring Iceland for the discovery of this land!’51 They even sent a plea to the United States Congress requesting money to go to Rome in order to look for suppressed archival evidence of the Norse North American presence: The Church having full knowledge of the existence of the western continent, discovered by men of a race that the Church had no intention of glorifying, and Columbus being an obedient tool of that Church, the means were at command for effecting a re-discovery of that continent, and for obtaining for the Church and its minions all the glory of a vast original achievement!52

North Americans were not the only ones to embrace such extreme views of Leif and Vinland; the Dane Juul Dieserud advances much the same position as support for his argument that Scandinavians should have proprietary status in the United States.53 But given what was at stake in North America, Vinland fever certainly burned hottest there. In his 1844 translation of Heimskringla, indeed, the Orcadian Samuel Laing, who was very much a Scandinavian-phile in his own right, summarily dismissed Rafn and the Newport Tower: ‘those sly rogues of Americans dearly love a quiet hoax’.54 A similar North American/British split appears in responses to the now infamous Yale Vinland Map, which purported to be a pre-Columbian depiction of Norse North America. Looking at the evidence today, one has a hard time understanding why anyone ever believed in the map’s legitimacy, and in fact scholars from the British Library and other British academics were withering in their scepticism of everything about the map: its provenance, representation of the world, depiction of Vinland, the wording of its legend, and even its ink. In the face of all this, Yale and the individuals associated with a facsimile reproduction of the map fiercely maintained their support, even as late as the book’s 1996 re-issue, although now the map seems to have no academic credibility at all.55 By no means did the Yale map ever overtly channel the kinds of social and political anxieties that animated Holand, the Shipleys, or others afflicted with Vinland on the brain. At the same

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

Vinland on the brain: remembering the Norse

19

time, for anyone who knows the fever’s history, those anxieties retain a ghostly presence; it was on 11 October 1965, two days after Leif Erikson Day and one day before Columbus Day, that Yale University Press announced the map’s existence and launched its edition thereof, making the front page of the New York Times.56 And while the Yale map has never been a medium for anti-Italian sentiment, it has not only divided critics by nationality but also been a platform for American assertions of self-identification. Many more examples of Vinland on the brain could be cited – a whole book’s worth, in fact. What I have tried to do here is give a sense of the variety of the fever’s symptoms as well as underscore the importance of the question I directly asked about the Vinland map. Given what is known about Norse behaviour in general and specific activity in Iceland and Greenland, why did – or does – nearly everything I have discussed retain any legitimacy as plausible historical accounts? One might go so far as to say that the intensity of belief even seems to vary in inverse proportion to the reasons for it. The stronger the belief, then, the less likely it is that it is connected to material reality. It is almost as if Vinland has become a kind of free-floating yet powerful signifier. Sometimes, as in the case of that Incan dog, it has been attached to the whimsical. Sometimes, as in the Kensington Runestone or the Shipleys’ ramblings, the attachment is whimsical but with strong social and political implications. And sometimes, as in de Mahieu’s work as well as the so-called Vinland flag recently adopted by white supremacist groups, Vinland on the brain has been downright toxic.57 All this suggests that the condition may not so much have infected individuals as been actively sought out and embraced by them. Why they have chosen it and the significance they see in journeys from Iceland to the Americas, therefore, reveal much more about them than about Vinland.

Notes  1 Richard Burton, Ultima Thule, or, A Summer in Iceland, 2 vols (London: William P. Nimmo, 1875), pp. ix−x.  2 William Morris, Icelandic Journals (Fontwell: Centaur Press, 1969), p. 108.  3 Perhaps most prominently, Helge Ingstad advocated the vin (meadow) sense, which better fitted the L’Anse aux Meadows site. See Helge Ingstad, ‘Viking ruins prove Vikings found the New World’, National Geographic, 126 (1964), 708−34.

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

20

Introduction

 4 Heather Pringle, ‘Evidence of Viking outpost found in Canada’, National Geographic (19 October 2012), https://news.national geographic.com/news/2012/10/121019-viking-outpost-second-newcanada-science-sutherland/, last accessed 13 December 2018; and Mark Strauss, ‘Discovery could rewrite history of Vikings in New World’, National Geographic (26 March 2016), https://news.national geographic.com/2016/03/160331-viking-discovery-north-america-can​ a​da-archaeology/, last accessed 13 December 2018.  5 Robert McGhee, ‘Norsemen and Eskimos in Arctic Canada’, in Eleanor Guralnick (ed.), Vikings in the West (Chicago: Archaeological Institute of America, 1982), pp. 38−52; and William W. Fitzhugh and Elisabeth I. Ward (eds), Vikings: The North Atlantic Saga (Washington, DC: Smithsonian Institute Press, 2000).  6 ‘He spoke also of yet another island of the many found in that ocean. It is called Vinland because vines producing excellent wine grow wild there. That unsown crops also abound on that island we have ascertained not from fabulous reports but from the trustworthy relation of the Danes’: Adam of Bremen, History of the Archbishops of HamburgBremen, trans. Francis J. Tschan (New York: Columbia University Press, 2002), p. 219.  7 ‘Íslenzkir annálar’, in Guðbrandur Vigfússon (ed.), Sturlunga Saga, 2 vols (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1878), vol. 2, pp. 348−91 (356). Old Norse original: ‘Eiríkr b[isku]p af Grænlandi fór at leita Vinlandz.’ Other copies of the Annals have a similar entry for the same year.  8 F. Donald Logan, The Vikings in History, 3rd edn (London: Routledge, 2005), pp. 70−1.  9 Quoted in G. J. Marcus, The Conquest of the North Atlantic (Woodbridge: Boydell, 1980), p. 78. 10 Ann-Marie Long, Iceland’s Relationship with Norway, c. 870–c. 1100: Memory, History and Identity (Leiden: Brill, 2017). 11 Axel Anton Bjørnbo and Carl S. Petersen, Fyenboen Claudius Claussøn Swart (Claudius Clavus), Norden ældste Kartograf: En Monografi (Copenhagen: Bianco Lunos, 1904), cols 178−9. 12 Robert Ferguson, The Vikings: A History (New York: Viking, 2009), p. 289. 13 Because of the conclusion the manuscript draws, ‘converterunt’ would seem to be used not simply in the classical sense of ‘gone over to’ but in the medieval sense of ‘morally changed’. 14 Finnur Magnússon and Carl Christian Rafn, Grönlands Historiske Mindesmærker, 3 vols (Copenhagen: Möller, 1838–45), vol. 3, pp. 459−64. 15 Diplomatarium Norvegicum, vol. 18 (Christiania [Oslo]: P. T. Malling/ Riksarkivet, 1847), pp. 213−14. I am grateful to Richard Cole for this reference, as well for the ones to Claudius Clavus and Gísli Oddsson.

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

Vinland on the brain: remembering the Norse

21

16 Hans Egede, Det gamle Grønlands nye perlustration (Copenhagen: Groth, 1741). 17 Ferguson, The Vikings, pp. 290−1. 18 The Saga of the People of Eyri, trans. Judy Quinn, in Viðar Hreinsson, Robert Cook, Terry Gunnell, Keneva Kunz, and Bernard Scudder (eds), The Complete Sagas of Icelanders, Including 49 Tales, 5 vols (Reykjavík: Leifur Eiríksson Publishing, 1997), vol. 5, pp. 131−218 (215−17). 19 Vicente Pistilli, Vikingos en el Paraguay (Asunción: R. Rolón, 1978), p. 19. 20 Pistilli, Vikingos en el Paraguay, p. 27. 21 Pistilli, Vikingos en el Paraguay, p. 22. 22 Jacques de Mahieu, El Rey Vikingo del Paraguay (Buenos Aires: Hachette, 1979), p. 177. For a brief summary of de Mahieu’s ideas, see Nicholas Goodrick-Clarke, Black Sun: Aryan Cults, Esoteric Nazism, and the Politics of Identity (New York: New York University Press, 2003), p. 184. 23 Geoffrey Brooks, ‘The Danish Viking presence in South America, 1000–c.1250’, The Society for Nautical Research (30 November 2015), https://snr.org.uk/snr-forum/topic/the-danish-viking-presence-insouth-america-1000-c-1250/, last accessed 13 December 2018. 24 Luke Holland, ‘Whispers from the forest: the excluded past of the Aché Indians of Paraguay’, in P. Stone and R. MacKenzie (eds), The Excluded Past: Archeology in Education (London: Routledge, 1990), pp. 134−51. 25 Uki Goñi, The Real Odessa: How Peron Brought The Nazi War Criminals to Argentina, rev. edn (London: Granta, 2002), p. 110. 26 Axel Andersson, A Hero for the Atomic Age: Thor Heyerdahl and the ‘Kon-Tiki’ Expedition (Oxford: Lang, 2010); and Scott Magelssen, ‘White-skinned gods: Thor Heyerdahl, the Kon-Tiki Museum, and the racial theory of Polynesian origins’, TDR: The Drama Review, 60 (2016), 25−49. Heyerdahl supports his diffusionist ideas with many of the fraudulent finds discussed here in Thor Heyerdahl and Per Lillieström, Ingen Grenser (Oslo: J. M. Stenersens Forlag, 1999). 27 See, for example, Clyde Winters, ‘Pre-Columbian murals and Norse sagas suggest Vikings met the Aztecs, and the outcome was not pretty’, Ancient Origins: Reconstructing the Origins of Humanity’s Past (27 November 2016), www.ancient-origins.net/history/pre-columbianmurals-and-norse-sagas-suggest-vikings-met-aztecs-and-outcome-w​a​ s-not-pretty-021084, last accessed 13 December 2018; Robert Peron, ‘Viking and the Aztecs in MEXICO?’ (27 November 2016), https:// rperon1017blog.wordpress.com/, last accessed 13 December 2018; Þórunn Valdimarsdóttir, ‘Vikings in Mexico 998 AD?’, https://thor vald.is/?page_id=392, last accessed 13 December 2018; Trueman, ‘Vikings in Paraguay – the Amambay / Guaira runes and more’,

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

22

Introduction

Abovetopsecret (28 October 2012), www.abovetopsecret.com/forum/ thread894216/pg1, last accessed 13 December 2018. 28 Thomas Percy, Northern Antiquities, or, a description of the manners, customs, religion and laws of the ancient Danes, and other northern nations; including those of our own Saxon ancestors. With A Translation of the Edda, or System of Runic Mythology, and Other Pieces, From the Ancient Islandic Tongue. In two volumes. Translated from Mons. Mallet’s Introduction a L’Histoire de Dannemarc, &c. With Additional Notes By the English Translator, and Goranson’s Latin Version of the Edda (London: T. Carnan and Co., 1770); and Thomas Gray, ‘The Descent of Odin’, in J. Crofts (ed.), Gray: Poetry and Prose, with Essays by Johnson, Goldsmith and Others (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1926). 29 Andrew Wawn, The Vikings and the Victorians: Inventing the Old North in Nineteenth-Century Britain (Cambridge: D. S. Brewer, 2000). Also see Andrew Wawn (ed.), Northern Antiquity: The PostMedieval Reception of Edda and Saga (Enfield Lock: Hislarik Press, 1994); Margaret Clunies Ross, The Norse Muse in Britain, 1750–1820 (Trieste: Parnaso, 1998); Heather O’Donoghue, English Poetry and Old Norse Myth: A History (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2014); and Jón Karl Helgason, Echoes of Valhalla: The Afterlife of the Eddas and Sagas, trans. Jane Victoria Appleton (London: Reaktion Books, 2017). 30 North Ludlow Beamish, The Discovery of North America by the Northmen, in the Tenth Century, with Notices of the Early Settlements of the Irish in the Western Hemisphere (London: T. and W. Boone, 1841). 31 Birgitta Linderoth Wallace, ‘Viking hoaxes’, in Guralnick (ed.), Vikings in the West, pp. 53−76; and Wallace, ‘The Vikings in North America: myth and reality’, in Ross Samson (ed.), Social Approaches to Viking Studies (Glasgow: Glasgow University Press, 1991), pp. 207−19. See also Kevin J. Harty’s chapter 3 in this volume. 32 Ryan Eyford, White Settler Reserve: New Iceland and the Colonization of the Canadian West (Vancouver: University of British Columbia Press, 2016), p. 7. 33 One notable exception is the work of the Norwegian historian Gustav Storm (1845–1903), which focuses on the exact location of Vinland. See, for instance, Gustav Storm, ‘Studier over Vinlandsreiserne, Vinlands Geografi og Ethnografi’, Aarbøger for Nordisk Oldkyndighed og Historie, 2: 2 (1887), 293−372. 34 For general overviews of the relations between United States cultural identity and Viking finds, see Erik Ingvar Thurin, The American Discovery of the Norse: An Episode in Nineteenth-Century American Literature (Lewisburg: Bucknell University Press, 1999); Geraldine Barnes, Viking America: The First Millennium (Cambridge: D. S. Brewer, 2001); and Annette Kolodny, In Search of First Contact: The Vikings of Vinland, the Peoples of the Dawnland, and the

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

Vinland on the brain: remembering the Norse

23

Anglo-American Anxiety of Discovery (Durham and London: Duke University Press, 2012). 35 The runic inscription and a translation can be found in Guralnick (ed.), Vikings in the West, fig. 17. A transcription occurs in Erik Wahlgren, The Kensington Stone: A Mystery Solved (Madison: University of Wisconsin Press, 1958), p. 109. Wahlgren’s devastating exposé ought to have ended all discussion of the Kensington stone. 36 Quoted in Harris Burkhalter, ‘Bothering the brains of the learned: Norwegian-American ethnic identity and perceptions of the Kensington Runestone in American popular culture’, in Terje Mikael Hasle Joranger and Harry T. Cleven (eds), Norwegian-American Essays 2014: Migrant Journeys: The Norwegian-American Experience in a Multicultural Context (Northfield: Norwegian-American Historical Association, 2014), pp. 145−72 (147). Wahlgren (The Kensington Stone, pp. 154−73) argues in detail that the stone was intended to be a hoax and, as such, was meant to be exposed. 37 David M. Krueger, Myths of the Rune Stone: Viking Martyrs and the Birthplace of America (Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press, 2015), p. 5. 38 ‘Runestone Museum’, Explore Alexandria Minnesota, https://explo​ realex.com/dt_places/runestone-museum/, last accessed 13 December 2018. 39 Odd S. Lovoll, Norwegians on the Prairie: Ethnicity and the Development of the Country Town (St Paul: Minnesota Historical Society Press, 2006), p. 22. Also see Krueger, Myths of the Rune Stone, pp. 41−51. 40 Krueger, Myths of the Rune Stone, pp. 93−117. 41 Burkhalter, ‘Bothering the brains of the learned’, p. 158. 42 Odd S. Lovoll, The Promise of America: A History of the NorwegianAmerican People (Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press, 1984), p. 180. 43 Albert Welles, The Pedigree and History of the Washington Family: Derived from Odin, the Founder of Scandinavia, B.C. 79, Involving a Period of Eighteen Centuries, and Including Fifty-five Generations, down to General George Washington, First President of the United States (New York: Society Library, 1879), p. iv. 44 Welles, The Pedigree and History of the Washington Family, p. xxv. 45 Rasmus B. Anderson, America Not Discovered by Columbus: A Historical Sketch of the Discovery of America by the Norsemen in the Tenth Century (Chicago: S. C. Griggs and Company, 1874), pp. 66−7. See also Bergur Þorgeirsson’s chapter 7 in this volume. 46 Eben Norton Horsford, The Landfall of Leif Erikson A. D. 1000 and the Site of the Houses in Vineland (Boston: Damrell and Upham, 1892), p. 91. 47 Horsford, The Landfall of Leif Erikson, p. 109. In an earlier study, Horsford describes the pronunciation as ‘one of the features of speech

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

24

Introduction

due to imperfect vocal development, remarked among American aboriginal races, and especially among the indigenous tribes of the region of Norumbega (Vineland)’: Eben Norton Horsford, Sketch of the Norse Discovery of America, at the Festival of the Scandinavian Societies Assembled May 18, 1891, in Boston, on the Occasion of Presenting a Testimonial to Eben Norton Horsford, in Recognition of the Finding of the Landfall of Leif Erikson, the Site of his Vineland Home and of the Ancient Norse City of Norumbega, in Massachusetts, in the 43rd Degree (Boston: n.p., 1891), p. 29. Norumbega, which Horsford derives from ‘Norway’, was a mythical settlement that shows up on early maps of New England. 48 John B. Shipley and Marie A. Shipley, The English Rediscovery and Colonization of America (London: Elliott Stock, 1891), p. vi. 49 Shipley and Shipley, The English Rediscovery, p. 45. 50 Marie A. Shipley, The Icelandic Discoverers of America, or, Honor to Whom Honor is Due (New York: John B. Alden, 1890), pp. 70, 67. 51 Shipley and Shipley, The English Rediscovery, p. 48. 52 Shipley and Shipley, The English Rediscovery, p. 40. Marie Shipley seems to have been the driving force behind the idea; see her The Norse Colonization in America in the Light of the Vatican Finds (Lucerne: H. Keller, 1889). 53 Juul Dieserud, Sagaens Leif Erikson: En Karakteristik af Amerikas Første Opdager paa Grundlag af Sagaens Geretning om Ham (Chicago: John Anderson, 1893). 54 Snorri Sturluson, The Heimskringla, or, Chronicle of the Kings of Norway, trans. Samuel Laing, 3 vols (London: Longman, Brown, Green, and Longmans, 1844), vol. 1, p. 183. 55 R. A. Skelton, Thomas E. Marston, and George D. Painter, The Vinland Map and the Tartar Relation, 2nd edn (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1996). 56 Kirsten A. Seaver, Maps, Myths, and Men: The Story of the Vinland Map (Palo Alto: Stanford University Press, 2004), p. 149; ‘1440 map depicts the New World’, New York Times (11 October 1965), p. 1. 57 See Verena Höfig’s chapter 5 in this volume.

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

Part I Imagination and ideology

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

2 Journeys to the centre of the mind: Iceland in the literary and the professorial imagination Seth Lerer

Early on in Jules Verne’s Journey to the Centre of the Earth (Voyage au centre de la Terre, 1864), the young narrator comes upon his uncle, a German professor of mineralogy, poring over a rare text. The manuscript, a copy of Snorri Sturluson’s Heimskringla, baffles the boy, and he assumes his uncle reads it in a German translation. Professor Lidenbrock replies: ‘A translation! What would I be doing with your translation? Who’s bothered about your translation? This is the original work, in Icelandic: that magnificent language, both simple and rich, containing the most diverse ­grammatical combinations as well as numerous variations in the words’ (8).1 This is a work of ancient history in an ancient tongue, a text whose language, the Professor explains, ‘has three genders, like Greek, and declension of proper nouns, like Latin’. It is a text in runes, as well, a form of writing ‘according to tradition … invented by Odin himself’. ‘Admire’, enjoins the Professor, ‘these forms which sprang from a god’s imagination’ (9). Falling out of the manuscript is a single leaf, also in runes and inscribed with the name Arne Saknussemm, but far more cryptic than Snorri’s text. Having transcribed and deciphered them, the Professor realises that they are directions to an ancient entry point into the centre of the earth itself, a point deep under the Icelandic glaciers. Soon the Professor and his nephew have left Germany for Denmark and then Iceland, where (joined by an Icelandic guide) they explore the great caverns, descend into the earth at Snæfellsnes peninsula, discover a lost world, and eventually wind up ejected back into terrestrial life by an Italian volcano. Verne’s book has long been seen as the inspiration for a range of later fantasies. Echoes of its subterranean adventure have been heard in Tom Sawyer’s wanderings through a Missouri cave. Its paleontological landscape mapped out travels from Arthur Conan

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

28

Imagination and ideology

Doyle’s Lost World (1912) to Greg Bear’s Dinosaur Summer (1998). Generations of so-called ‘hollow earth’ adventures (from Edgar Rice Burroughs’s At the Earth’s Core of 1914, to the early 2000s television steampunk series Sanctuary) follow Verne’s guidance. Films, comics, video, and digital experiences too numerous to mention here invite the watchers or players to dig deep into the earth’s great past and, in the process, find themselves.2 Journey to the Centre of the Earth has had a rich afterlife. But it also had a vivid prehistory, in particular in the responses to the European rediscovery of Iceland and its literary heritage. Travellers from the 1810s on saw its glaciers and volcanoes as living evidence for an earth in transition: proof of a world not static but continuously undergoing violent change. Iceland’s geology became the laboratory for attesting to the new geology of Charles Lyell – a geology that argued for the ancient age of earth, for preservation of old forms in strata, and for change itself as the characteristic feature of the natural environment.3 In tandem with this geological research, Iceland became the site of philological historicism. The language of the sagas and the Eddas (it was believed) echoed in the mouths of living farmers and fishermen.4 Modern Icelandic came to be appreciated as one of the most antique and unchanged of the European languages, one that, as Verne’s Professor Lidenbrock affirmed, still preserved the old forms of Greek and Latin, one whose grammar and vocabulary gave anchor to the Germanic branch of the Indo-European family. Verne’s Journey appeared, first, in French in 1864, and by the early 1870s competing English translations were already in print.5 By this time, its associations of comparative geology and philology would have seemed natural.6 The positivist search for origins aimed at both physical and linguistic goals. Trees of life mirrored trees of language. August Schleicher’s Stammbaum of the Indo-European tongues looked just like Darwinian trees of phyla.7 Strata of rock were seen as akin to strata of words. Etymology became as much a work of excavation as fossil hunting. As the historian Stephen Alter puts it, in his Darwinism and the Linguistic Image: [Th]e philologist and the antiquary were related from the start, and the latter was brother to the (often amateur) geologist and paleontologist. The retrospective aspect of all these activities placed on a par the collectors and interpreters of old manuscripts, Roman relics, pre-Cambrian rocks, and, eventually, prehistoric fossils; the interpretation of all such artifacts demanded that they be arranged in a temporal series. It was this historical quality, most basically, that

Iceland in the literary imagination

29

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

allowed philology to lend itself so readily to metaphors of organized growth and ultimately to comparisons with biological evolution.8

In Verne’s Journey, it is therefore fundamental to the novel’s social argument that a philological enigma gets solved by a geologist. Reading the runes and reading the rocks were but two sides of the same scientific coin. Verne’s Journey represents a high point in this arc of philological geology (or geological philology).9 It transforms Wissenschaft into a voyage extraordinaire. And, in the process, it presents Iceland as the site of literary and physical origin. It stands not just as source of myth and mystery but as the focal point of earth itself. As Andrew Wawn has summarised, Iceland, by the latter half of the nineteenth century, ‘offered the ultimate voyage into matter, in all stages of its dynamic history. To assemble mineral samples was to collect natural hieroglyphics, comparable (in some impressionable eyes) with those of runic writing.’10 I want to develop the implications of this claim to focus on Verne’s metamorphosis of philological research into an extraordinary voyage. In its early translations into English, it helped write the script for the Anglophone i­ magination – an imagination of Iceland, in particular, but also of the other destinations, real and fabulous, that adventurers would reach. More pointedly, Verne’s novel helped to make the scholar into a hero. Professors of geology, of language, of anatomy, and of history all came, throughout the late nineteenth and twentieth centuries, to be adventurous, heroic figures. Sir James A. H. Murray, addressing the Philological Society in 1884 on the inauguration of the New English Dictionary, called his compeers ‘pioneers, pushing our way experimentally through an untrodden forest, where no white man’s axe has been before us’.11 The lexicographer now announces himself a veritable Henry Stanley of the language, bringing light to a dark continent. So, too, half a century later, J. R. R. Tolkien would attest, in his letter applying for the Rawlinson and Bosworth Professorship of Anglo-Saxon at Oxford, to his success with his students at Leeds: ‘I began with five hesitant pioneers. … Philology, indeed, appears to have lost for these students its connotations of terror if not mystery.’12 By the 1950s, the philologist would stand on distant planets, Prospero-like, as Dr Morbius surveys his alien kingdom in the film Forbidden Planet.13 Mine is a study of the heroic professoriate: a tale of how the philological imagination of the later nineteenth century brought Iceland to the Americas. In turn, that professoriate provided

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

30

Imagination and ideology

later Anglo-American travellers to Iceland with an aesthetic lens through which to see that island’s landscape.14 It is this heroic professoriate that shaped the self-narrations of the foundational scholars of Icelandic and Old Norse Studies in the modern university. And it is a heroism that, in contemporary popular media, limns the contours of the extraordinarily erudite on adventures both bold and bibliographical. The Iceland of the early to mid-nineteenth century was both a place of scientific enquiry and a locus of imaginary power.15 The great volcanic eruptions of the 1780s changed the physical terrain of the island, and they brought it to the attention of a new generation of European scientists coming to debate the very nature of the earth itself. Discoveries of fossils in England and on the Continent raised questions about the age of the earth and about historical relationships of species. Could there be extinct life forms? Could the earth be more than its biblical six thousand years old? Was the globe a stable entity, occasionally rocked by accidental tremors, or was it inherently a body in continual transformation: a body burning inside, one whose history had been marked by catastrophic change? Such questions were contributing to the new science of empirical geology, and they would bear their fruit in the synthesis of Charles Lyell, in whose Principles of Geology (1830) Iceland’s Skaftá lava field was ‘presented as evidence of the regular operation of mechanisms of heat and pressure in the formation of the Earth’s surface’.16 Travellers to Iceland in the decades following those great eruptions came armed with both scientific and aesthetic presuppositions. As the environmental historian Karen Oslund has shown, Iceland became a ‘laboratory … where one could observe processes of change that were hidden elsewhere’. It was a place of continuous ‘upheaval and renewal’, a place of ‘fire and dust’, where the lavastrewn, glaciered landscape echoed not only geological but social processes as well. ‘The motifs of Icelandic nature’, Oslund writes, ‘were commonly viewed as literal signifiers of a folk history and a national history’, and this association made Iceland a site of literary and linguistic hidden change.17 The codification of Indo-European linguistics had, as its basic principle, a technique of synchronic comparison for the purposes of historical reconstruction. Such a technique was similarly emerging as the system of comparative morphology and comparative geology. Indeed, the very word ‘comparative’ in the European scientific discourses (vergleichenden in German; comparée in French)

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

Iceland in the literary imagination

31

brought together these geological and philological enterprises.18 Philologists writing in the wake of both the Grimms and Lyell could argue that the ‘business of the Philologist’ was as much ‘to recover the remoter history of man, through the fragments of dead languages in the use of Comparative Philology, as it is of the Geologist to unveil the history of former worlds, from the fossil remains of extinct animals by means of Comparative Anatomy’.19 To such eyes, Iceland, finally, was the site of the sublime. The emerging romantic discourse of beauty and imagination was readymade for the Icelandic traveller. Geysers and volcanoes, lava fields and harbours, fog and mist – all appeared through the lens of an almost Wordsworthian poetic vision. ‘Tintern Abbey’, ‘The Prelude’, and the Preface to Lyrical Ballads (among other texts) defined the expectations of the aesthetic beholder’s response to the landscape as both seen and recalled through reflection and verbal narrative. The Romantic characterisation of experience (the sunset, an ocean, a mountain range, a storm, and so on) centred on the beholder’s emotional and spiritual elevation. Lyric poetry became the primary Romantic form expressing that elevation: for locating the self along the arc of natural beauty and its human artistic and verbal representation.20 For visitors to Iceland, these Romantic terms became the lenses through which they saw geyser, lava, fog, and volcano. Henry Holland’s Icelandic Journal of 1810, whatever its descriptive accuracy, is as Wordsworthian (or for that matter Burkean) as any piece of Romantic prose: ‘Occasionally indeed a sort of desolation of thought arose amidst the dreariness of surrounding nature, but it was akin to the feeling of the sublime, and its presence might almost have been solicited by the mind.’21 By the end of the nineteenth century, W. G. Collingwood and Jón Stefánsson could describe the ‘background of scenery’ behind the ‘ancient dramatic style’ of the sagas: ‘The intense tenderness and the intense passion of the sagas could only be developed among scenery which, whether the actors felt it or not, reacted upon their sentiment.’22 In their words, we can hear echoes of a century of aesthetic theory, from Wordsworth’s notion of experience recollected in tranquillity to John Ruskin’s arguments for landscape as inspiring a level of artistic representation capable of working on the sense and sensibility of the beholder: ‘For every touch of human interest in the sagas – pastoral, romantic, or sublime – there was, and still remains, a landscape setting no less sweet, or strange, or stern.’23 That last clause could well scan as a late-Romantic scrap of verse,

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

32

Imagination and ideology

its iambs and alliterations transforming the very landscape itself into eloquence. This is, in barest outline, the fuel for Verne’s voyage and the lexicon for his travellers. Professor Lidenbrock, in praising the antiquity, simplicity, and richness of the Icelandic language, echoes the evaluations of two generations of sublime philologists. Take, for example, this account by Þorleifur Repp, the Icelandic scholar, working in Denmark and Britain, who stood as a cultural intercessor between the literary Britain of Sir Walter Scott and political Scandinavia. Writing in 1832, in a treatise on the origins of English and Germanic law, Repp describes the Old Icelandic language in terms that precisely anticipate Verne’s Professor Lidenbrock: A very intricate system of inflections – a great care and ingenuity is played in the framing and beautifying of every word – the nicest harmony, proportion, symmetry, between all the elements of which a word is composed – a scrupulous avoidance of all harsh sounds, yet no prevalence of any particular letter permitted, which might create monotony or disharmony – these are the external and truly Indic characteristics of Odin’s language. The style is incomparable simple and concise.24

Andrew Wawn makes much of Repp as aesthetician of Icelandic. And yet we may look behind his idioms to find, as Halldór Hermansson had done, perhaps an ultimate source for this vision of the language. Hermansson’s Modern Icelandic: An Essay describes the language of early Icelandic prose as ‘diction pure and natural … elevated with the addition of certain rhetorical turn[s]’.25 Hermansson, though, is not content with his own impressions. He quotes the Grammar of Runólfur Jónsson, published in Latin in 1651, where Icelandic appears exactly in the terms that look forward to Repp and Verne: ‘accuratas concinnasque vocum inflexiones, tam elegantes constructionum modos, tam exquisitas verborum delectus, tam mirama sententiarum varietatem’ (‘a language of precise and concise verbal inflections, along with elegant modes of construction, an exquisite choice vocabulary, and a remarkable variety of significations’).26 This is a criticism more aesthetic than it is philological. The notions of proportion and harmony go back to classical ideals of sublimity and form – ideals that had been codified in seventeenth-century European criticism and that, in a sense, prepared scholars for the translation and impact of the Pseudo-Longinus ‘On the Sublime’ itself.

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

Iceland in the literary imagination

33

But, for the nineteenth-century historical philologist, Icelandic was a language whose beauty and form had genealogy as much as genius about it. It looked back to a language family as much Indo as European, and it is precisely this sense of Icelandic as a member of the great world family that Repp and Lidenbrock add to the old idioms of the sublime. Both locate it in a past of classical languages. Repp’s ‘Indian characteristics’ here must refer, like Lidenbrock’s references to Greek and Latin, to the idea that these languages shared an Indo-European heritage – a heritage made widely known by Sir William Jones who, in his praise of Sanskrit, came to understand the nature of inflection and vocabulary as of ‘wonderful structure’, ‘perfect’, ‘copious’, ‘exquisitely refined’.27 For Repp, as well as Lidenbrock, this is ‘Odin’s language’, and the reference is not offhand. The father of the gods becomes the father of the word. The mystery, the richness, the simplicity, the beauty, the enigma – all of these features are, in some sense, divine, sprung, in Lidenbrock’s terms, ‘from the imagination of a god’. Such breathlessness about things Icelandic set the tone for those later scholars, novelists, and poets who would make their own extraordinary voyages. William Morris may be among the best known of them. His travels, his stories, and his great translations made the Old Norse literary heritage available to the general Anglophone reader (though it should be noted that his visions of the saga landscape and the skaldic poet owe as much to his Pre-Raphaelite aesthetic as earlier European versions owed to the Romantic sublime). Morris has been well worked over. His contemporary, Bayard Taylor, has not. Taylor was an American travel writer, journalist, and diplomat. Travelling to Iceland in 1874 for the millennial celebrations of the first Norse landfall on the island, Taylor wrote of his exploit with an almost thrombotic awe to rival that of any of his Romantic predecessors – or, for that matter, any of Verne’s voyagers. Leaving the Faroe Islands for Iceland, Taylor notes: ‘The sea had gone down, the mists had risen and rested upon the dark island-summits, and the bleak sublime shores on either hand distinctly marked out our way.’28 When he and his crew reach the headlands of Reykjavík harbour, the same language appears: ‘The inland mountains, coming out more clearly, suggested a colder and more barren Scotland; all the features of the scenery were large, broad, and sublime in their very simplicity.’29 And when he and his guides trek across the Snæfellsnes peninsula, Taylor might as well be echoing Verne’s awe-struck narrator:

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

34

Imagination and ideology Northward of [the glacier] the land disappears, to emerge again in sharp blue peaks, which are overlapped by higher and nearer promontories, until, across the last bight of the fjord, the bare mountains show every gully and ravine, every streak of snow, patch of pale green herbage or purple volcanic rock. Sun and shadow, ever in motion over their sides, make continual and exquisite changes of color. Inland, there is the greatest variety of outline, from the turfy shores to the horns, peaks, and rampart-like ridges in the distance. The air is wonderfully clear, so that the tints of the great panorama – which has a sweep of over a hundred miles – are marked by the greatest possible delicacy and purity.30

Now, here is Verne, in the first (admittedly deeply flawed) English translation of the Journey to the Centre of the Earth, published in 1871: I stood upon the lofty summit of Mount Sneffels’ southern peak. Thence I was able to obtain a view of the greater part of the island. The optical delusion, common to all lofty heights, raised the shores of the island, while the central portions appeared depressed. It was by no means too great a flight of fancy to believe that a giant picture was stretched out before me. I could see the deep valleys that crossed each other in every direction. I could see precipices looking like sides of wells, lakes that seemed to be changed into ponds, ponds that looked like puddles, and rivers that were transformed into petty brooks. To my right were glaciers upon glaciers, and multiplied peaks, topped with light clouds of smoke. The undulation of these infinite numbers of mountains, whose snowy summits make them look as if covered by foam, recalled to my remembrance the surface of a storm-beaten ocean. If I looked towards the west, the ocean lay before me in all its majestic grandeur, a continuation as it were, of these fleecy hilltops. Where the earth ended and the sea began it was impossible for the eye to distinguish. I soon felt that strange and mysterious sensation which is awakened in the mind when looking down from lofty hilltops, and now I was able to do so without any feeling of nervousness, having fortunately hardened myself to that kind of sublime contemplation.31

By the last decades of the nineteenth century, then, Iceland has seemed to replace the English Vale or European Alp as the site of the sublime: as the naturalistic inspiration for human, cognitive reflection and remembrance; as the inspiration for artistic recreation of experience; and as the subject for a heightened literary diction, redolent of repetition, assonance, and rare vocabulary. Taylor was not alone in taking up these invitations to eloquence. Among his contemporaries was the fantasist H. Rider Haggard,

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

Iceland in the literary imagination

35

whose novel Eric Brighteyes (1890) conjures up an ancient Viking past as exotic as his Africa of King Solomon’s Mines.32 Haggard himself travelled to Iceland in 1888, not without first calling on Morris – whose ‘archaic and other-world romances’ were a literary inspiration, and who provided Haggard with some letters of introduction for support and guidance.33 Haggard’s own account of his journey, recorded in his autobiography Days of My Life, is as exciting and self-heroising as anything in Verne, and his idiom ripples with precisely those associations among landscape, language, and culture that I have sought to outline here: ‘Every sod, every rock, every square foot of Axe River, is eloquent of the deeds and deaths of great men.’34 Once again, we hear landscape transformed into language – stones speak here much as they would speak to Collingwood and Jónsson, to Morris and Taylor, to Verne and his Professor Lidenbrock. I could go on. Suffice it to say, here, that reading Taylor’s and Haggard’s personal accounts after Verne’s tale of sea voyage, pony trek, and subterranean exploration leaves one with a very blurry line between the autobiographical and the novelistic. It is a journey back into literary time (‘outside of the Bible and Homer, there exists, perhaps, no literature more truly interesting than that of the Icelandic sagas’).35 It is a journey into social history (Haggard and his companions dig through the remains of Njal’s burnt farm, immortalised in one of the sagas). And coming home is a journey through the sublime terror of a storm at sea (‘scrape, quiver! – scrape, quiver! and we were fast’).36 Behind all of this flotsam is the sense there is buried treasure in the landscape: that this is a journey of both social and self-discovery, that there is a valuable secret to be found here. Professor Lidenbrock may crack the codes of runes and follow Arne Saknussemm’s path. Haggard and his men, however, remain disappointed at the ruins of Njal’s farmstead: ‘Dug last night and found various relics of the burning. The floor of the hall seems to have been sprinkled with black sand (see the saga), but we had not the luck of the American who, when he dug, discovered a gold ring.’37 Many Americans since Haggard have dug in the black sands and found their gold. The life of scholarship became a life of adventure. Excavation in the library was like a digging in the soil. And those trained in the strata of the book soon found themselves on the extraordinary voyages to landscapes. Such are the frames and frissons of the life and work of Daniel Willard Fiske, the founder of the Icelandic collection at Cornell University, Cornell’s first librarian, and one of the earliest American

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

36

Imagination and ideology

explorers of the ‘far north’.38 Any encounter with the Fiske collection, either in person or online, alerts the modern scholar to the old sublimities. There is the gallery of late nineteenth- and early twentieth-century photographs of Icelandic life and landscape. Basalt ridges fan out in the photographs of Frederick Howell, as if in illustration of a journey to the centre of the earth. The governor’s house in central Reykjavík still stands much as it did when Haggard or Professor Lidenbrock had visited. The ice curtain in Surtshellir (a lava cave in western Iceland) could stand as evidence for the sublime itself, while the tube of Geysir after an eruption could stand, equally, alongside a map of Verne’s own story.39 Enter the collection – literally as well as virtually – and you are on the voyage. Fiske himself recorded his journey in 1879, and his diary is prominently featured in the collection. Reading its entries, we hear echoes of Verne and Taylor, anticipations of Haggard, and the emergent language of what I will call the professorial sublime. Fiske’s journey to Iceland took him, like Taylor, past the Faroes, and like Taylor, too, he looks at them much as he would look on a painting by Turner or Bierstadt or any of the Hudson School illuminists of his own youth in upstate New York: ‘Black varying in color from deep red to swart, water-worn cliffs, stony pinnacles of every shape and height, waterfalls pouring over precipices into the sea, headlands and coves, pillars of rocks standing out of the water, arches of basalt, caverns and ledges and fissures without number – such were the elements of the picture we enjoyed.’40 This is experience mediated by art: a language of alliteration and assonance, of a vocabulary that looks back to ancient texts for modern vision. That word, swart, stands out in particular as a telling archaism, much as it would stand out, decades later, in the first of Ezra Pound’s Cantos: And then went down to the ship, Set keel to breakers, forth on the godly sea, and We set up mast and sail on that swart ship.41

Fiske’s Iceland is a place of eloquent geology. The river Jökulsá flows to the sea in a ‘turbid whiteness, rushes, foaming, ­frothing, steaming, and thundering’.42 Sunset at Akureyri has the colour palette from Shakespeare to Tennyson: ‘the snow-capped ­mountain-tops around us were bathed with a soft rosy flush; the sky … was prodigal in its colors and tints’.43 Again, a single word, prodigal, used archaically to mean lavish, shows us what happens when a philologist looks at landscape.44

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

Iceland in the literary imagination

37

And, finally, if Wordsworth argued that the heart of poetry was sublime experience ‘recollected in tranquillity’, Fiske himself recollected his own trip, a quarter of a century after he had set out: ‘When a traveler in the arctic Thule returns home and becomes reminiscent, it is difficult for him to avoid the language of exaggeration. If he has sailed all around the island and has, besides, wandered up and down its interior, he has seen a new world, has observed a surprising number of new objects, and has lived through a new life.’45 Half Wordsworth here, but also half Keats: Much have I travelled in the realms of gold, And many goodly states and kingdoms seen; Round many western islands have I been.46

And if Keats, opening his Chapman’s Homer, found himself like Cortez looking at a new ocean, so, too, did Verne’s voyagers behold their subterranean sea. According to a translation contemporaneous with Fiske, The shoreline, greatly indented, offered the lapping water a fine golden sand, dotted with those small shells that housed the first beings of creation. The waves broke over it with that sonorous murmur peculiar to vast enclosed spaces. A light foam was swept up by the breath of a moderate wind, and some of the spray was blowing into my face. On this gently sloping shore, about two hundred yards from the edge of the waves, expired the last spurs of large cliffs that soared, widening, to an immeasurable height. Some of them, piercing the shoreline with their sharp edges, formed capes and promontories worn away by the teeth of the surf. Further on, the eye was drawn by their shapes clearly outlined against the hazy horizon in the distance.47

Whatever Fiske saw, he saw it, increasingly, through the lens of his literary reading, his philology, and his experience of the sensibilities of the sublime that, by the 1870s, had become common coin of verse and vision. The scholar’s journey, whether to the centre of the earth or the extremes of Thule, is always philological in the root sense of that term: always conjuring the landscape through the language, always voyaging into the past of lexicon and literature for the right word to mark the moment. Professors Lidenbrock and Fiske had many heirs. The tropes of scholarly heroism find themselves morphed into the figure of Professor Challenger in Arthur Conan Doyle’s Lost World of 1912. And in the emergent university life of the American twentieth

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

38

Imagination and ideology

century, such archaeologists and linguistic cryptographers as Roy Chapman Andrews, Edgar James Banks, William Montgomery McGovern, and many others self-consciously took on the role of the professor/adventurer. These men are barely known today, save for their places in the imagined genealogy of Indiana Jones. I would suggest in closing that the true heir of the northern scholar/ voyager, however, is not Indiana but his father, Henry Jones, Sr. Born in Scotland in 1872, he received a degree (which one we are not told) from Oxford on 5 June 1899 in ‘medieval literature’.48 Just what the creators of Henry Jones imagined him to have encountered at that Oxford of the 1890s is anybody’s guess. Would he have studied Celtic with John Rhys, Old English with Arthur Napier, Old Norse with F. York Powell, Comparative Philology with Joseph Wright? Would he have stopped by Murray’s office at the OED? Like his historical and fictive forebears, Henry Jones keeps a diary, and he is brought out of his late-middle-aged scholarly seclusion by the discovery of a ‘tablet’ hinting at the home of the Holy Grail. Henry’s diary figures only in passing in the film Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade, but it has a vivid afterlife online, as fan-fictionalists have tried to recreate its illustrations, its codes, and its cryptograms. In 1938, the year of The Last Crusade, he is sixty-six years old, an emeritus on one final extraordinary voyage. And though that voyage takes us far from Iceland, it does so only for the cartographic literalists. All the tropes and turns of the old voyages are here, now moved from the North to the Near East (just as Doyle would move them to the Amazon, or Haggard would novelistically move them to Africa). The journey to the North – a journey that associated geographical hardship with intellectual discovery, that associated local landscape with national identity, that looked at digging in the dirt and digging in the library as comparable activities, and that saw the telos of that journey not just as the discovery of things but the making of a personal narrative of self-discovery – everything in that journey becomes the template for the scholar’s place in fantasy fiction. The professorial sublime now finds itself transferred from snow and lava to the desert sands and carved rock face of Petra, Jordan. For Henry Jones, the very sight of Petra is a sight precisely in line with the sense of Iceland’s visitors. And for Henry Jones, mortally wounded and in need of the restoring holy water of the Grail, life itself depends on an aesthetic decision. Unwisely choose the Nazis. Faced with racks of goblets, they select the gold and

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

Iceland in the literary imagination

39

­ em-encrusted. Tempted by the superficial glint, they cannot see g the true sublime in bare simplicity. ‘This is the cup of a carpenter.’ The plainest one is the most holy. To adapt the words of Bayard Taylor, it is ‘sublime in its very simplicity’. At the climax of The Last Crusade, the criterion of selection must come from someone reared on older notions of the pure and simple. The professor’s son has learned his lesson, much as the young narrator of Verne’s Journey has learned his. For, thirsty and breathless in their underground trek, it is days before they find the restorative water – a luxury, but more importantly, a simple thing: ‘Oh, what ecstasy! What indescribable gratification! What was this water? Where did it come from? I didn’t care. It was water and, although still hot, gave back to our hearts the life that was escaping from them. I drank without stopping, without even tasting’ (113). Rich yet simple: such were the axes along which the beauty of Icelandic had been phrased. Such were the axes along which one charts the arc to the sublime. By the end of the twentieth century, these idioms of the extraordinary voyage had become so entrenched in the landscape of adventure that we hear them now almost as second nature. In the history I have sought to limn here, the old professor and his young charge – be it son or nephew, heir or student – travel across hardships both terrible and sublime. They dig into a landscape whose geology embeds language and social history. They dig in dark sands for something gold. Henry Jones is but one of the latest (and I am sure not the last) instantiations of the scholar/medievalist as hero – the American, to return to H. Rider Haggard’s imagery, digging in the black sands for a gold ring. If his journeys take him far from Oxford or from Iceland or from the Americas, they do so only to affirm the lastingness of literary tropes. Such tropes appear throughout my literary history, as they appear, too, in many of the essays in this volume. For the journey from Iceland to the Americas was not just a voyage of seamen to a coast. It remains a journey that we all take every time we open up a book or watch a film or play a video game. My essay thus shares with many in this volume a concern with finding what we wish to find: digging in sands for shards of Viking settlement or excavating the idioms of modern fantasy for relics of old gods. In all these travels we may find not simply evidence for archaeology or the archive. We will find ourselves. If scholars such as I cannot be Axel Lidenbrock or Henry Jones, then at the very least I may conceive myself as Daniel Willard Fiske or Bayard Taylor. With

40

Imagination and ideology

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

them, I will come to teach that, in the end, decisions about life and death may best be grounded in a knowledge of what beauty is and what art can do. The power of the word – whether written in runes or flickering on a screen – may be to take us out of the schoolroom or the study and affirm us, squarely, on the glacier’s ice or in the geyser’s spume. Notes  1 Unless otherwise noted, I use Jules Verne, Journey to the Centre of the Earth, trans. William Butcher (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1992), cited by page number in my text. For background material, interpretive frameworks, and biographical information, I rely on the following: Andrew Martin, The Mask of the Prophet: The Extraordinary Fictions of Jules Verne (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1990); Herbert R. Lottman, Jules Verne: An Exploratory Biography (New York: St Martin’s Press, 1996); and William Butcher, Jules Verne: The Definitive Biography (New York: Da Capo, 2006).  2 Butcher claims much for the afterlife of Verne’s Journey, in particular that it ‘may have been a source’ for Mark Twain’s Tom Sawyer, chapter 31, ‘where Tom and Becky are lost in an underground labyrinth near the Mississippi’: Verne, Journey, p. 225.  3 See Karen Oslund, ‘Imagining Iceland: narratives of nature and history in the North Atlantic’, British Journal for the History of Science, 35 (2002), 313−34, and her book, Iceland Imagined: Nature, Culture, and Storytelling in the North Atlantic (Seattle: University of Washington Press, 2011). Additional information and interpretations include Andrew Wawn, The Vikings and the Victorians: Inventing the Old North in NineteenthCentury Britain (Cambridge: D. S. Brewer, 2000). For American literary refractions of these encounters, see Erik Ingvar Thurin, The American Discovery of the Norse: An Episode in Nineteenth-Century American Literature (Lewisburg: Bucknell University Press, 1999).  4 The belief that Icelandic remained fundamentally unchanged for centuries became one of the sustaining myths of modern Nordic studies. Bayard Taylor, in his account of his travel to Iceland in 1874, claimed that ‘if a boy speaks in the street, he may use words made venerable in the Eddas of Saemund and Snorre Sturlusson’: Egypt and Iceland in the Year 1874 (New York: G. P. Putnam’s Sons, 1874), p. 206. Dispelling this myth is the overarching purpose of Halldór Hermansson’s Modern Icelandic: An Essay, Islandica XII (Ithaca: Cornell University Press, 1919). See, too, Snæbjörn Jónsson, A Primer of Modern Icelandic (London: Oxford University Press, 1927), which is, as far as I can tell, the first full grammar and reader of the modern language for English speakers and is specifically designed to complement the grammars of

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

Iceland in the literary imagination

41

Old Icelandic that had been proliferating in the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries (see pp. v−vi).  5 Voyage au centre de la Terre first appeared in an unillustrated edition, published by Pierre-Jules Hetzel in November 1864, as the third book in the Voyages extraordinaires series. It was reissued in French in 1867 with illustrations. An abridged, somewhat rewritten version of the book appeared in English in 1871, published by Griffith and Faran (London). English reprintings appeared throughout the 1870s. A fuller, more accurate translation appeared in 1876, published by Ward and Locke (London), titled Journey to the Interior of the Earth. Before these books, there was a serialised translation in The Boy’s Journal of 1870, and an 1869 reference to the work in Appleton’s Journal of Popular Literature, Science, and Art. This bibliographical information, together with full references and reproductions of covers and title pages, can be found at ‘Voyage au centre de la Terre – 1864 / Journey to the Centre of the Earth – 1871’, Jules Verne, http://www.julesverne. ca/vernebooks/jvbkjourney.html, last accessed 21 February 2019.  6 Verne would certainly have known of the associations of philology and geology that had become central to the study of language by the 1860s. For a review of these traditions, see Stephen Alter, Darwinism and the Linguistic Image: Language, Race, and Natural Theology in the Nineteenth Century (Baltimore: Johns Hopkins University Press, 1999), and the essays in Bernd Nauman, Frans Plank, and Gottfried Hoffbauer (eds), Language and Earth: Elective Affinities between the Emerging Sciences of Linguistics and Geology (Amsterdam: John Benjamins, 1992), especially the following: T. Craig Christy, ‘Geology and the science of language: metaphors and models’, pp. 79−89, and E. F. K. Koerner, ‘William Dwight Whitney and the influence of geology on linguistic theory in the nineteenth century’, pp. 271−87. For Verne’s sources in geological writings and his knowledge of midcentury science, see John Breyer and William Butcher, ‘Nothing new under the sun: the geology of Jules Verne’s Journey to the Centre of the Earth’, Earth Sciences History, 22 (2003), 36−54.  7 See the reproductions of plates in Alter, Darwinism and the Linguistic Image, pp. 111−15.  8 Alter, Darwinism and the Linguistic Image, p. 2.  9 Though there is no mention of Verne, the arc of this relationship between philology and geology is traced by Christy, ‘Geology and the science of language’. 10 Wawn, The Vikings and the Victorians, p. 287. 11 James A. H. Murray, ‘President’s address’, Transactions of the Philological Society (1884), pp. 501−30 (509). For discussion of this quotation in its historical and ideological contexts, see Seth Lerer, Error and the Academic Self (New York: Columbia University Press, 2002), p. 163.

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

42

Imagination and ideology

12 J. R. R. Tolkien, ‘To the electors of the Rawlinson and Bosworth Professorship of Anglo-Saxon, University of Oxford’, 27 June 1925, in Christopher Tolkien (ed.), Letters of J. R. R. Tolkien (London: Allen and Unwin, 1981), pp. 12−13. I discuss the contexts and implications of this letter in Lerer, Error and the Academic Self, pp. 83−4. 13 Dr Morbius is the spaceship’s philologist on the ill-fated mission chronicled in the film Forbidden Planet (1956). For an extended argument about representations of the philologist in post-war American popular culture and the associations among Morbius and his (largely Germanic) forebears, see Seth Lerer, ‘Forbidden Planet and the terrors of philology’, epilogue to Error and the Academic Self, pp. 261−75. 14 See Emily Lethbridge’s chapter 8 in this volume. 15 Material in this and the following paragraphs is indebted to the sources assembled, and interpretations developed, in Oslund, ‘Imagining Iceland’ and Oslund, Iceland Imagined. 16 Oslund, ‘Imagining Iceland’, p. 321. 17 Oslund, ‘Imagining Iceland’, pp. 322−3. 18 The term literature comparée was coined by Jean-Jacques Ampère. See the discussion in Denis Hollier, ‘On writing literary history’, in Denis Hollier et al. (eds), A New History of French Literature (Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1989), pp. xxi−xxv. For the associations among comparative philology, comparative morphology, and comparative geology in the early nineteenth century, see Alter, Darwinism and the Linguistic Image. 19 W. B. Winning, Manual of Comparative Philology (London: J. G. & F. Rivington, 1838), p. 4, quoted in Alter, Darwinism and the Linguistic Image, p. 14. 20 For the main outlines of the Romantic theory of the sublime, its relationship to lyric poetry, and its impact on the criticism of art, literature, and travel, see in particular M. H. Abrams, The Mirror and the Lamp (New York: Oxford University Press, 1953), and Abrams, ‘Structure and style in the greater romantic lyric’, in F. W. Hilles and Harold Bloom (eds), From Sensibility to Romanticism (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1965), pp. 527−60; Paul Fry, The Poet’s Calling in the English Ode (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1980); Elizabeth Helsinger, Ruskin and the Art of the Beholder (Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1982); Ian Balfour, ‘Afterthoughts on the sublime and education; or, “Teachable moments?”’, in J. Jennifer Jones (ed.), The Sublime and Education, Romantic Circles Praxis Series (August 2010), http://www.rc.umd.edu/praxis/sublime_education/balfour/balf​ our.html, last accessed 7 December 2018. 21 Quoted in Wawn, The Vikings and the Victorians, p. 32. 22 Oslund, ‘Imagining Iceland’, p. 331. 23 W. G. Collingwood and Jón Stefánsson, A Pilgrimage to the SagaSteads of Iceland (Ulverston: W. Holmes, 1899), p. v.

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

Iceland in the literary imagination

43

24 Quoted in Wawn, The Vikings and the Victorians, p. 86. 25 Hermansson, Modern Icelandic, p. 3. 26 Quoted in Hermansson, Modern Icelandic, p. 10. 27 Sir William Jones, ‘The third anniversary discourse (delivered 2 February 1786 by the president to the Asiatick Society of Bengal)’, Electronic Library of Historiography (July 1999), www.eliohs.unifi. it/testi/700/jones/Jones_Discourse_3.html, last accessed 24 January 2019. 28 Taylor, Egypt and Iceland, pp. 190−1. 29 Taylor, Egypt and Iceland, p. 195. 30 Taylor, Egypt and Iceland p. 207. 31 Jules Verne, A Journey to the Centre of the Earth (London: Griffith and Farran, 1871), quoted from Project Gutenberg, www.gutenberg. org/files/18857/18857-h/18857-h.htm, last accessed 21 February 2019. This English version is less a translation than an adaptation of Verne’s French. I use it here to illustrate the early impact of the language of the sublime on potential readers of the 1870s. 32 See the discussion in Wawn, The Vikings and the Victorians, pp. 332−5. 33 H. Rider Haggard, The Days of My Life: An Autobiography, ed. C. J. Longman (Adelaide: University of Adelaide Library, 2014), quoted from eBooks@Adelaide, https://ebooks.adelaide.edu.au/h/haggard/h_ rider/days/index.html, last accessed 21 February 2019. 34 Haggard, The Days of My Life, n. pag. 35 Haggard, The Days of My Life, n. pag. 36 Haggard, The Days of My Life, n. pag. 37 Haggard, The Days of My Life, n. pag. 38 For Fiske’s work, his life, and the building of the collections at Cornell, see the material assembled for the exhibition at Cornell, ‘The exhibition’, The Passionate Collector: Willard Fiske and his Libraries, http:// rmc.library.cornell.edu/collector/, last accessed 21 February 2019. For additional biographical material and for a digest of Fiske’s travel journals to Iceland, see P. M. Mitchell (ed.), Willard Fiske in Iceland (Ithaca: Cornell University Library, 1989). 39 These photographs and many others are reproduced at the website listed in footnote 38. 40 Mitchell, Willard Fiske in Iceland, p. 7. 41 Ezra Pound, The Cantos of Ezra Pound (New York: New Directions, 1996), p. 3 (Canto I, lines 1−3). 42 Mitchell, Willard Fiske in Iceland, p. 14. 43 Mitchell, Willard Fiske in Iceland, p. 18. 44 OED, s. v. prodigal, adj., n. and adv., 4.b. 45 Mitchell, Willard Fiske in Iceland, p. 65. 46 John Keats, ‘On first looking into Chapman’s Homer’, The Complete Poems of John Keats, ed. John Barnard (Harmondsworth: Penguin, 1977), p. 72 (lines 1−3).

44

Imagination and ideology

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

47 Verne, A Journey to the Centre of the Earth, n. pag. (see note 31). 48 I can find no other sources for this information than ‘Henry Jones, Sr.’, Wikipedia, https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Henry_Jones%2C_Sr., last accessed 21 February 2019. The text appears to draw on the content of the film Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade (1989).

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

3 The ‘Viking tower’ in Newport, Rhode Island: fact, fiction, and film Kevin J. Harty

Lost to the archives and, therefore, little known today, MGM’s 1928 silent Technicolor film The Viking, directed by Roy William Neill, nonetheless holds an important place in the history of cinema.1 It was the last silent feature film that MGM produced in Technicolor, and one of only three silent films so produced, the others being The Toll of the Sea (1922), which starred Anna Mae Wong, and The Black Pirate (1926), which starred Douglas Fairbanks, Sr.2 But, shortly after its release, The Viking all but disappeared from public screenings for two reasons – one inevitable (it was released just as sound motion pictures were coming into their own) and one facile (American audiences objected to film heroes who were not clean-shaven – and Donald Crisp, who played Leif Eiriksson, sported a very serious moustache). The moving force behind The Viking was Herbert T. Kalmus, who produced the film and had earlier pioneered the two-colour Technicolor process. The colour art director was his wife, Natalie Kalmus, who would go on to be art director for the 1939 The Wizard of Oz, and the cast included a number of marquee names from the silent era, notably Crisp and Pauline Starke, in the role of a shield-maiden named Helga.3 The film’s scenario and its fictional source reflect now verified details about Viking landings in North America recorded in the two so-called Vinland sagas – The Saga of the Greenlanders (Grænlendinga saga) and Eirik the Red’s Saga (Eiríks saga rauða). These two sagas, written down in the thirteenth century, offer at times over-lapping, at times conflicting accounts of Viking explorers who set out from Greenland and sailed west, landing at various spots in what is now North America some 500 years before Columbus supposedly ‘discovered’ the Americas.4 The film begins, as we might expect, with a Viking raid – in this case in Northumbria, whose inhabitants are either killed or brought back as slaves to Scandinavia. Among the slaves is Alwyn,

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

46

Imagination and ideology

formerly Earl of Northumbria, whose complicated relationships with his captors in general, and with Leif and Helga in particular, drive much of the plot, which sees the Vikings set out first for Greenland and then for uncharted lands further west in an attempt to spread Christianity. A subplot involves a conflict over religion between Leif and his pagan father, Eirik the Red, who is fond of killing Viking Christian converts. Leif manages to outwit his father and survives a near mutiny and an attempt on his life when the Vikings sail westward. When land is sighted, Leif comes ashore, planting a huge crucifix on the beach as he kneels in prayer to thank God – a scene more suggestive of a landing by one of the Spanish conquistadors in the Caribbean, or in Central or South America, than of one inspired by an episode in one of the sagas. Then somewhat unexpectedly, in a coda to the film, an intertitle tells us that, as was the Viking custom of his forefathers, Leif built a great stone watchtower. The next scene shows the completed tower as Helga (now sporting a feathered headband) and her fellow Vikings exchange goods with a group of Native Americans, whom Leif seems to have converted to Christianity. Leif says that the tower and the crucifix that the chief of the Native Americans now wears around his neck are symbols of the continuing peace between their two peoples. He sets sail to return to Greenland, but leaves behind a small group of Vikings, led by Helga and Alwyn. The final intertitle tells us that no one knows what happened to this little Viking colony, but that the watchtower still stands today in Newport, Rhode Island. As that final intertitle slowly fades, ‘The Star-Spangled Banner’ can be heard playing first softly and then swelling to a full choral crescendo in the background. Except for its coda, the film is loosely based on a 1902 novel, The Thrall of Leif the Lucky: A Story of Viking Days by Ottilie A. Liljencrantz (1876–1910). Her brief literary career (she died of complications from cancer aged only 34) includes the publication of three other Viking-themed historical novels – The Ward of King Canute (1903), The Vinland Champions (1904), and Randvar the Songsmith: A Romance of Norumbega (1906) – as well as a posthumously published collection of short stories, A Viking’s Love and Other Tales of the North (1911). On one level, Liljencrantz’s novels are simply yet another example of what David Matthews has labelled ‘romantic’ as opposed to ‘gothic or grotesque’ medievalism: ‘the Middle Ages of romance, of chivalric deeds, but also of simple communitarian living and humanely organised labour, a pastoral time when the cash nexus was unknown, a time of intense romantic

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

The ‘Viking tower’ in Newport, Rhode Island

47

love’.5 Better known and more skilled American novelists, such as Mark Twain and Howard Pyle, excelled in writing such examples of medievalism. But their novels lacked the racial bias that can be seen both in Liljencrantz’s works and in other repeated attempts to track a continued pre-Columbian Scandinavian presence in North America, of which the coda to The Viking is a cinematic example. Liljencrantz and her works were in fact lionised in her obituary along racial lines. She was ‘a writer of popular talent who can ill be spared’, since she had earned ‘a distinct place in Chicago literary and artistic life’. Most importantly, thanks to her novels, Scandinavians instead of feeling that they were alien here are justified in believing that this new land to which they have come is the land discovered by their forebears before ever Columbus sailed out of Palos to discover tropical America. … Scandinavians, too, have in the old American stock something nearer than their cousins in blood. Near in race as are the Germans to the Anglo-Saxons, the Scandinavians are nearer.6

The Thrall of Leif the Lucky is a tale of adventure, of romance, and of religion, charting Viking travels from Scandinavia across the Atlantic to Iceland and Greenland. It presents star-crossed lovers – a Northumbrian noble reduced to Viking slave and a Viking shieldmaiden who is ward to Leif the Lucky – and details Leif’s conflict with his father, Eirik the Red, about whether the Vikings as a whole should embrace Christianity and reject the pagan religion of their ancestors. Acknowledgements of the Christian God bookend the novel. In the foreword, Liljencrantz waxes poetically about how the Vikings came to embrace Christianity.7 And in the conclusion, the Viking conversion to Christianity is sealed by Leif’s triumphant return to Greenland from Vinland.8 Liljencrantz’s obituary further hints at her place in the struggle for acceptance that different groups of Scandinavian immigrants coming to the American Midwest had to contend with from the 1840s onward. Indeed, threats were used to prevent Norwegians from voting in Chicago elections as early as 1844,9 but demographic changes gradually muted such responses. At its peak, the ‘Norwegian emigration was exceeded in percentage of total population only by that from Ireland among all the European countries. … By 1870 the number of Scandinavians in the American population had risen to 21,669. … Twenty years later [it was] approaching the million mark.’10 And with such strength in numbers came begrudging acceptance. Chicago’s 1893 World’s Fair: Columbian

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

48

Imagination and ideology

Exhibition, intended to celebrate the city’s rebuilding after the great fire of 1871, as well as the four hundredth anniversary of Columbus’s arrival in the New World, in fact provided an interesting affirmation of Scandinavian legitimacy in the New World as well. Not only were fairgoers treated to replicas of Columbus’s three ships, but they could also visit, among the marine exhibits in the South Pond, a Viking ship that had sailed across the Atlantic from Bergen, Norway.11 Seeking to carve out their place in the ever-evolving American national origin narrative, Norwegians – and Danes and Swedes – could also look to Liljencrantz’s novels and short stories as a form of validation not readily available from their non-Nordic neighbours. And the stories told in Liljencrantz’s fiction were bolstered by claims of Viking travels after Leif’s Vinland journey to locations as far inland as the Upper Midwest. The ‘proof’ of such claims came from artefacts like the Kensington Runestone in Minnesota, which purported to record the fourteenth-century martyrdom of Catholic Vikings at the hands of savage indigenous tribes.12 That the martyred Vikings were Catholic only further legitimised the pre-Columbian Scandinavian claim to an America identity, despite what their non-Nordic neighbours might have originally felt. Scandinavian immigrants – at first shunned and discriminated against – now offered an alternative American national origin narrative: more legitimate citizens than those who shunned and discriminated against them and who came with, or after, Columbus to the New World – be they Hispanic Catholics or Protestant Virginians and New Englanders. This alternative narrative had been laid out fully in 1874 by Rasmus B. Anderson, Professor of Scandinavian Studies at the University of WisconsinMadison and later US Ambassador to Denmark, in America Not Discovered by Columbus.13 As J. M. Mancini has pointed out, the literature of Viking discovery in this period made a number of claims about the Scandinavian origins of the American past. First, it argued that the Vikings had been the true discoverers of America. Second, it argued that Scandinavians, as the progenitors of the American ‘race’ and the creators of democracy itself, were America’s ancestors in body and mind. And, finally it argued not only that Scandinavians had arrived first but they had done it better, by suggesting that the Vikings had negotiated the most vexing aspect of New World discovery – contact with Native peoples and its genocidal implications – more successfully than their later rivals.14

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

The ‘Viking tower’ in Newport, Rhode Island

49

This is in fact the narrative that the Kensington Runestone reverses: according to the stone, it is peaceful, devout Catholic Vikings who were martyred by savage, pagan indigenous people.15 The coda to the 1928 The Viking reflects that same alternative American national origin narrative, especially since it represents such a conscious departure from, and addition to, the ending of the film’s fictional source, itself generally simplified and abridged elsewhere in the film. In the book, in fact, Leif remains in Greenland, nowhere near Newport or anywhere else in New England. But the film’s lost colony of Rhode Island Vikings also conveniently offers a precursor to the lost English colony from Roanoke Island off the coast of Virginia, whose inhabitants mysteriously disappeared somewhere between 1585 and 1587. And through this foreshadowing, it further establishes the primacy of the Viking arrival in the New World over that of later, non-Nordic Europeans. The actual settlement of Newport had nothing to do with Vikings. In 1636, after being banished from the Massachusetts Bay Colony for their heretical religious beliefs, Roger Williams and a small group of followers settled at the head of Narragansett Bay in what is now Rhode Island on land provided, or sold, to them by the indigenous Narragansett inhabitants. Their intent was to establish a place of religious freedom welcoming to all. Two years later, with permission from Williams, Anne Hutchinson and other religious dissenters settled in Portsmouth on the northern end of Aquidneck Island. Subsequent disagreements among the founders of the Portsmouth colony led to the establishment of a second settlement called Newport on the southern end of the island. All three settlements prospered under the nominal leadership of Williams, who then invited Benedict Arnold and his family to join him in leading the colony. Like Williams, Arnold had come to America at the age of nineteen from Somerset, England. Quickly learning the languages of the native indigenous peoples, he proved himself a capable and trustworthy administrator who had many descendants, including General Benedict Arnold, best known for his treason during the American Revolutionary War. The earlier Benedict Arnold first served as a freeman and a commissioner in Newport, and then succeeded Williams as president of the entire colony, before being named governor by royal charter in 1663. He would go on to serve two additional terms as governor, dying in office in 1678 and in his will specifically mentioning a ‘Stone built Wind Mill’ as part of his estate.16 The remains of that mill are the tower that appears in the coda to the 1928 film and that still stands

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

50

Imagination and ideology

in Touro Park in Newport today, on land bought and then donated to the town of Newport for use as a public green space by the nineteenth-century philanthropist Judah Touro, who also funded the maintenance for the Newport synagogue and cemetery that now bear his name.17 How this tower came to be identified with the Vikings, and with any number of other groups, is a complicated tale.18 Given its advantageous location on a sheltered harbour, Newport at first prospered until the American Revolution and the War of 1812, when it fell upon economic hard times during and after the British occupation of the city, and because of the subsequent establishment of Providence and Boston as rival centres for shipping and trade. The city would not become the resort and playground of the rich and famous until well after the mid-nineteenth century. Noting an increase in tourism in Nahant, Massachusetts after a sea serpent was supposedly sighted offshore in 1817,19 the Newport city fathers turned their attention to Arnold’s mill, which they would eventually enshrine on the city flag as a municipal icon and symbol.20 The infamy of his descendant during the Revolutionary War made any association of the tower with Governor Benedict Arnold’s name less than desirable, but an alternative story about the tower’s origin and purpose was soon provided by an unlikely source. In the late 1820s, notices about a new scholarly project began to appear in American newspapers: A distinguished savant of Copenhagen … is engaged in the composition of a work on the voyages of discovery to North America, undertaken by inhabitants of the north of Europe, before the time of Columbus. They furnish various and unquestionable evidence, not only that the coast of North America was discovered soon after the discovery of Greenland, towards the close of the tenth century, by northern explorers, a part of whom remained there, and that it was again visited in the 11th, 12th, and 13th centuries, but also that Christianity was introduced among the aborigines.21

The ‘distinguished savant’ was Carl Christian Rafn, secretary of the Royal Society of Northern Antiquaries in Copenhagen, which Rafn himself had organised in 1825 with the historian and linguist Rasmus Christian Rask, under the royal patronage of Frederick VI. The result of Rafn’s labours, Antiqvitates Americanæ, first published in 1837 and subsequently reissued and updated several times, would soon prove to be one of the most important nineteenth-century scholarly works on American antiquity.22 To

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

The ‘Viking tower’ in Newport, Rhode Island

51

his credit, in his book Rafn, in concert with an Icelandic expert, Finnur Magnússon, made available for the first time the Vinland sagas in their original Old Norse, as well as in Danish and Latin translations. Where Rafn and Magnússon went astray, however, was in their attempt to read the sagas as actual historical documents in order to find the exact locations on the New England coast of Vinland and of the other Viking settlements mentioned in the sagas. But for the leaders and promoters of any number of New England towns and cities, Rafn and Magnússon would quickly become the academic equivalents of guns for hire. The European scholars, who never crossed the Atlantic, eagerly received missives from throughout New England, along with appreciative remuneration, asking them to authenticate local phenomena as proofs positive of the enduring presence of the Viking imprint in the pre-Columbian history of New England. Among those phenomena were Newport’s tower and the Dighton Rock, which was initially identified as being covered by runic Viking descriptions, rather than by indigenous markings. Douglas Hunter has called such conscious erasure of America’s indigenous past ‘cultural ventriloquism’.23 The much studied, and subsequently much graffitied, rock was unearthed in the late seventeenth century in the bed of the Taunton River outside Dighton (present-day Berkley), Massachusetts. What original inscriptions it may have had are clearly Native American, and the problems of Norse identification were compounded by subsequent, equally questionable scholarly enquiry that attempted to discount their alleged Viking origin by assigning them to Portuguese explorers. In the process, such arguments further dismissed the ability of what were deemed inherently primitive native peoples to have produced such carvings, or any other cultural artefacts. While Native Americans would then never be credited with the building of Newport’s tower, its construction would, at one time or another, be attributed to Chinese traders, to Knights Templar, and to unidentified astronomers, among many others. Most recently, it has been assigned to John Dee, an advisor to England’s Elizabeth I, who was, according to the latest theory about the tower’s origin, intent upon establishing Roman Catholicism in the New World. The tower’s link to the Vikings, however, has proven to be the most unshakeable.24 When a supposed skeleton in armour was discovered at Fall River, Massachusetts, only a few miles from Dighton Rock, in April 1831, proponents of the white racism that Rafn’s work

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

52

Imagination and ideology

e­ ventually fostered argued that the body belonged either to ‘one of the race who inhabited this country for a time anterior to the so-called Aborigines … or to one of the crew of some Phoenician vessel, that, blown out of her course, thus discovered the western world before the Christian era’.25 But when the skeleton attracted the attention of the eminent writer Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, any pre-Christian origin of the skeleton was discounted, and the stage was set for yet another validation of the Viking presence in Newport. In a widely praised poem, ‘The Skeleton in Armor’, which he completed in 1840 and published in 1842, Longfellow connected the Fall River skeleton to Newport’s tower, which he argued was built by a Viking for his lover who died after giving birth to the first European born in North America.26 Longfellow’s poem would then combine the Romantic medievalism of nineteenth-century American literature with Rafn’s theories about the extent of Viking settlements in New England in general, and in Newport in particular. And Longfellow’s poem would also influence the next phase of Newport’s embrace of its alleged Viking connections, reflected in the work of yet another eminent American writer, James Fenimore Cooper. While parts of Cooper’s 1827 novel The Red Rover: A Tale are set in Newport in and around the tower, the prefaces neither to the original nor to the 1834 edition make any mention of the structure. By 1850, however, the Norse story had clearly captured the public imagination, for the preface to that edition not only details the tower’s Viking connections, but also seeks to debunk them.27 After the American Civil War, Newport’s fortunes began to rise, as the city soon became a vacation destination for the truly rich, who were prepared to build their summer houses along the cliffs of the city. These so-called ‘cottages’ were, of course, residences to rival the palaces of Europe. Among those summering in Newport was the New York socialite and tobacco heiress Catherine Lorillard Wolfe, at one time the richest unmarried woman in America. After living for many years in a more modest summer house that afforded her daily views of Newport Tower, Wolfe commissioned a much grander summer ‘cottage’, which she dubbed ‘Vinland’, instructing her architects and builders to supply her with a residence reflecting Newport’s Viking heritage.28 Vinland today is an administrative building on the campus of Salve Regina University, but Viking touches, such as a series of wall sconces, still survive in the structure, despite the building

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

The ‘Viking tower’ in Newport, Rhode Island

53

having been radically repurposed. The house’s dispersed extant artwork clearly indicates that it originally had a series of glass windows designed by Edward Burne-Jones for William Morris and Company and, for its library, an equally elaborate set of friezes designed by Walter Crane. Entitled The Viking Bride and The Skeleton in Armor, these friezes depicted scenes from Longfellow’s poem. Only one panel from the series of windows is on public display, in the Delaware Art Museum in Wilmington – the rest are in private collections – but reproductions of the series of windows do survive, attesting to their beauty and detail. In the upper row can be found the sun, a Viking ship (the window in the Delaware Art Museum), and the moon. In the centre, BurneJones depicted Thor, Odin, and Frey, and in the bottom row the explorers Thorfinn Thordarson Karlsefni, Gudrid, and Leif the Lucky. Black and white drawings of the Crane frieze are among the holdings of the Harvard and Yale university libraries, and full colour cartoons of two panels are also owned by the Delaware Art Museum. What the surviving drawings and cartoons suggest is a work that celebrates the triumph of Nordic brains and beauty over indigenous brawn and brute strength. The birth of Thorfinn Karlsefni’s son Snorri, for example, is depicted in a scene reminiscent of paintings of the birth of Christ. An elaborately clothed Viking mother, father, and swaddled child are surrounded by nearly naked, dark-skinned native peoples who look on in awe. Meanwhile, skilled Nordic European draftsmen design and direct the construction of the tower, which is carried out by seemingly enslaved, overly muscled, again nearly naked, dark-skinned native workmen. And the scene of the Viking mourning his dead wife is almost Pietà-like in its pathos.29 But Newport’s continued claim to a pre-Columbian Viking visitation did not sit well with some proper Bostonians, who already were less than pleased with what they saw as celebrations of Columbus at the expense of their own ancestors’ arrival, albeit belatedly, at Plymouth Rock. Seeking to demonstrate its own Nordic connection and thanks to the efforts and financial backing of a very wealthy Harvard professor, Eben Norbert Horsford, Boston erected a statue of Leif the Lucky on Commonwealth Avenue in 1887. Horsford’s subsequent pseudo-archaeological research – he was Rumsford Professor of Chemistry at Harvard, not a trained archaeologist – uncovered (he argued) the site of Leif’s home near what is now Mount Auburn Hospital in Cambridge, and the site

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

54

Imagination and ideology

was quickly identified as such in guidebooks at the time. Horsford further declared that Weston, a suburb of Boston, was built upon the original site of Norumbega, a lost city of Viking riches. And since he had the funds to do so, Horsford, not to be outdone by his neighbours to the south in Newport, in 1889 built a tower in Weston, which he dubbed the Norumbega Tower, to commemorate the lost El Dorado of the Vikings.30 But Newport’s tower is nothing if not a structure that continues to inspire, sometimes wildly so, as evidenced by its centrality to the plot of a relatively recent novel, and that of an even more recent film based on it. The novel, published in 2009, is David S. Brody’s Cabal of the Westford Knight: Templars at the Newport Tower, the first in what is now a series of seven that – perhaps in an attempt to outdo Indiana Jones, not to mention Dan Brown – finds more than abundant evidence for the active presence of the Knights Templar in America since the Middle Ages. Those additional novels – which have received generally positive reviews, at least from readers on Amazon – suggest, in their order of publication, Templar involvement in almost every American fabulist tale and conspiracy theory imaginable, including claims for the true location of the Ark of the Covenant and for the lost continent of Atlantis somewhere in North America.31 Based on this novel and co-written by Brody and Michael Carr, the 2013 film The American Templars examines (according to blurb Carr supplied to IMDb) the possibility that a group of Knights Templar explored New England [in the late fourteenth century] and left clues to the greatest treasure in history in their wake. The Church will do anything to keep these secrets and two reluctant treasure hunters are drawn into the adventure of a lifetime. Shot on location with actual unexplained sites and artifacts, The American Templars will excite the mind and raise questions about faith, history, and the things that unite us all.32

The film’s convoluted plot then manages to combine the ongoing clergy abuse scandal involving the Catholic Church with theories about figures who have become ubiquitous in contemporary conspiracy theories and who have been linked to Scotland’s Rosslyn Chapel. To these it adds further theories about the existence of a goddess fertility cult tied first to the so-called American Stonehenge, a maze of caves and stones in Salem, New Hampshire. According to the film, these were built some 4,000 years ago by

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

The ‘Viking tower’ in Newport, Rhode Island

55

Phoenicians,33 while later theories as to their origin involved no less an important New Testament figure than Mary Magdalene. The key to the secret that the Catholic Church and others are trying to cover up lies in the pieces of the game of chess. In this game, the queen is Mary Magdalene, wife of Jesus and his co-divine equal, and the knight is the so-called Westford Knight, a member of Henry Sinclair’s supposed expedition to Massachusetts. The Sinclair family, of course, built Rosslyn Chapel in Scotland – a structure replete with its own set of fabulist tales and conspiracy theories. And, according to the film, Sinclair was a descendant of Vikings; among the Sinclair family’s actual hereditary titles is that of Prince of the Orkneys. The American Templars then promotes many of the supposed secrets of Rosslyn Chapel and even expands upon them.34 By this logic, Henry Sinclair first visited Greenland in 1393 and then Massachusetts, sailing inland in 1398 down the Merrimack River to Westford, where he buried one of his companions and raised a gravestone in his honour with a carving of a knight holding a shield and sword. A further clue to the mysteries that The American Templars supposedly uncovers is another chess piece, a rook in the shape of the Newport Tower, which in the film is eventually revealed to be a shrine to Mary Magdalene as goddess. The shrine is in turn tied to celebrations of the Winter Solstice, during which the sunrise supposedly and significantly illuminates different parts of the structure. And the Westford Knight himself is allegedly entombed in an elaborate series of tunnels running beneath not only the Newport Tower but also the Newport Historical Society, the Newport Masonic Lodge, and the Touro Synagogue and Cemetery. The carved gravestone in Westford is, the film suggests, simply a memorial in his honour. According to Brody, the Westford carving is connected to Newport’s tower, a structure that has, in turn, been linked to theory after theory after theory about the pre-Columbian settlement of New England by the lost tribes of Israel, by the Phoenicians, by the Chinese, by the Knights Templar, by the Portuguese, or, most enduringly, by the Vikings. In fact, the carving is not medieval, nor is there a fourteenth-century knight buried under or memorialised by it. Claiming the rock as medieval is in fact another example of cultural ventriloquism. If the scratches on it are even carvings, they would have been made by indigenous people for reasons that presently escape us, but they are just as likely to be simply the natural features of a glacial rock.

Imagination and ideology

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

56

Thanks to Dan Brown, whose 2003 mystery novel The Da Vinci Code is briefly set within the chapel, Rosslyn has had a huge influx of tourists and funding to help with the upkeep of what is indeed an important and beautiful structure. But the chapel’s connection to alleged Viking sites in Massachusetts or Rhode Island is the stuff of fantasy, if not science fiction. Perhaps Newport’s tower, like Keats’s more famous urn, is fated, though to a less memorable extent, to be the ‘foster-child of silence and slow time’. Or as a decidedly less gifted poet – Newport’s own Ernest Jasper Hinds – phrases it: Built high upon a sea-holding hill, Defiant, quaint, impenetrable still. Mysterious enigma of the years, There stands the ruin of an ancient mill. … If Christian white men built this tower so tall, Why then did they put those altars in its wall? And why the pagan symbols south and north? Or why the need for building it at all?35

Notes  1 The research for this essay was made possible by the untiring and generous assistance of my colleagues, Megan Bennis and Gerard Regan, in the Interlibrary Loan Department at La Salle University’s Connelly Library.  2 The Viking, dir. Roy William Neill, USA: Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer Pictures, 1928. The film opened in November 1928 and went into general release in 1929. Reviews were mixed, but unanimous in their praise of the technical innovations Technicolor afforded. For a list of these reviews and other discussions of the film, see Kevin J. Harty, ‘The Vikings on film: a filmography’, in Kevin J. Harty (ed.), The Vikings on Film: Essays on Depictions of the Nordic Middle Ages (Jefferson: McFarland & Co., 2011), pp. 193−214 (210−11). More recent discussions of the film can be found in Arne Lunde, Nordic Exposures: Scandinavian Identities in Classical Hollywood Cinema (Seattle: University of Washington Press, 2010), pp. 17−26; and in Jón Karl Helgason, Echoes of Valhalla: The Afterlife of the Eddas and Sagas, trans. Jane Victoria Appleton (London: Reaktion Books, 2017), pp. 163−71.  3 See H. T. Kalmus, ‘Technicolor adventures in Cinemaland’, Journal of the Society of Motion Picture Engineers, 30 (December 1938), 564−85: ‘There seemed to be two principal troubles with The Viking, both of which I suspected but without certainty. First, it came out among the very last silent pictures in 1929 and, second, whiskers. Leif Erickson,

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

The ‘Viking tower’ in Newport, Rhode Island

57

the Viking hero, true to character, had a long, curling ­ mustache, whereas American audiences prefer their lovers smooth-shaven. At times the whole screen seemed filled with viking whiskers’ (p. 573).  4 Eirik the Red’s Saga and The Saga of the Greenlanders, trans. Keneva Kunz, in Viðar Hreinsson, Robert Cook, Terry Gunnell, Keneva Kunz, and Bernard Scudder (eds), The Complete Sagas of Icelanders, Including 49 Tales, 5 vols (Reykjavík: Leifur Eiríksson Publishing, 1997), vol. 1, pp. 1−32.  5 David Matthews, Medievalism: A Critical History (Cambridge: D. S. Brewer, 2015), p. 25.  6 ‘Ottilie Liljencrantz’, The American Scandinavian, 3 (November 1910), 17; see also ‘Chicago authoress is dead’, Chicago Daily Tribune (9 October 1910), p. 7.  7 Ottilie A. Liljencrantz, The Thrall of Leif the Lucky: A Story of Viking Days (Chicago: A. C. McClure & Co., 1902), p. 7.  8 Liljencrantz, The Thrall of Leif the Lucky, p. 353.  9 Robin L. Einhorn, Property Rules: Political Economy in Chicago, 1832–1872 (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1991), pp. 35−6. See also Birgit Flemming Larsen, Henning Bender, and Karen Veien (eds), On Distant Shores: Proceedings of the Marcus Lee Hansen Immigration Conference, Aalborg, Denmark, June 29–July 1, 1992 (Aalborg: Danes Worldwide Archives in collaboration with the Danish Society for Emigration History, 1993), pp. 231−41, 337−43; Odd S. Lovoll, A Century of Urban Life: The Norwegians in Chicago Before 1930 (Northfield: Norwegian-American Historical Association, 1988), pp. 3−34; and Odd S. Lovoll, The Promise of America: A History of the Norwegian-American People (Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press, 1984), pp. 7−30. 10 Theodore C. Blegen, Norwegian Migration to America, 1825−1860 (North­ field: Norwegian-American Historical Association, 1931), pp. 22−3. 11 Stanley Appelbaum, The Chicago World’s Fair of 1893: A Photographic Record (New York: Dover Publications, 1980), pp. 51−2, 86. 12 The authenticity of the stone and of its inscriptions has inspired endless controversy in print and on the web. See David M. Krueger, Myths of the Rune Stone: Viking Martyrs and the Birthplace of America (Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press, 2015). The Catholic Church embraced the stone, naming a nearby parish church after Our Lady of the Runestone, who is depicted standing next to the stone with her arms outstretched to embrace the faithful. But the theology here is hardly profound, and borders on the sentimental. See, for instance, Vincent A. Yzermans, ‘Our Lady of the Runestone’, The Marian Era, 5 (1964), 70−8, 106−7; and Sister Mary Jean Dorcy, O.P., ‘Ave Maria, save us from evil’, Our Lady’s Digest, 38 (Fall 1983), 37−42. For more on the Kensington Runestone, see Tim William Machan’s chapter 1 in this volume.

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

58

Imagination and ideology

13 Rasmus B. Anderson, America Not Discovered by Columbus: A Historical Sketch of the Discovery of America by the Norsemen in the Tenth Century (Chicago: S. C. Griggs and Company, 1874). 14 J. M. Mancini, ‘Discovering Viking America’, Critical Inquiry, 28 (Summer 2002), 868−907 (871). See also Bergur Þorgeirsson’s chapter 7 in this volume. 15 In the subgroup of Viking films in which Vikings encounter indigenous people, there is always a tension involving who the true savages are: the European Vikings, with their reputation as the terrorists of their day, or the indigenous tribes, who invariably in the film Western scalp and murder white settlers. See Kevin J. Harty, ‘Who’s savage now? – the Vikings in North America’, in Harty (ed.), The Vikings on Film, pp. 106−20. 16 [Charles Timothy Brooks], The Controversy Touching on the Old Stone Mill in the Town of Newport, Rhode Island (Newport: Charles E. Hammet, 1851), p. 31. 17 Philip Ainsworth Means, Newport Tower (New York: Henry Holt, 1942), pp. 23−4. 18 Tracing the history of Newport from its founding through colonial times and into the nineteenth century is beyond the scope of this essay. For the selective overview that I have provided, I have relied upon the following popular and scholarly sources: Carleton Beals, Colonial Rhode Island (Camden: Thomas Nelson, Inc., 1970), pp. 150−2; Elaine Gorman Crane, A Dependent People: Newport, Rhode Island in the Revolutionary Era (New York: Fordham University Press, 1985), pp. 1−7; Deborah Davis, Gilded: How Newport Became America’s Richest Resort (New York: John Wiley & Sons, 2009), pp. 20−9; Paul F. Eno and Glenn Laxton, Rhode Island: A Genial History (Woonsocket: New River Press, 2005), pp. 10−21, 46−7; William G. McLoughlin, Rhode Island: A History (New York: W. W. Norton & Company, 1986), pp. 168−75; Kenneth Walsh, The Economic History of Newport, Rhode Island (Bloomington: AuthorHouse, 2014), pp. 121−33; and Lynne Withey, Urban Growth in Colonial Rhode Island (Albany: State University of New York Press, 1984), pp. 109−13. 19 Accounts of sea serpent appearances off the coast of Nahant date from as early as 1638 until as late as 1877. See ‘The sea serpent’, Boston Globe (19 July 1877), p. 8; and Samuel Adams Drake, A Book of New England Legends and Folk Lore (Boston: Roberts, 1990 [1884]). 20 See James Alan Egan, The History of the Newport City Flag (Newport: Newport Tower Museum, 2014). 21 Quoted by Douglas Hunter in his The Place of Stone: Dighton Rock and the Erasure of America’s Indigenous Past (Chapel Hill: University of North Carolina Press, 2017), pp. 132−3. Among the publications in which the notice originally appeared were Philadelphia’s National Gazette and Literary Register and Baltimore’s Niles’ Weekly Register.

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

The ‘Viking tower’ in Newport, Rhode Island

59

22 Carl Christian Rafn, Antiqvitates Americanæ sive Scriptores Septentirionales rerum ante-Columbianarum in America: Samling af de i Nordens Oldskrifter indeholdte Efterretninger om de gamle Nordboeres Opdagelsesrejser til America fra det 10de til det 14de Aarhundrede (Copenhagen: Societas Regia Antiquariorum Septentrionalium, 1837). 23 Hunter, The Place of Stone, p. 6. 24 That the tower is the ruin of Governor Arnold’s mill is now beyond reasonable dispute, but the bibliography detailing all the competing claims as to the tower’s origin is daunting. For a convenient starting point in tracing such claims, see The Old Stone Mill: A Finding Aid (Newport: Redwood Library and Athenaeum, 1998). On the most recent theory linking the tower to the Elizabethan John Dee, see the multiple publications by James Alan Egan, Curator of the Newport Tower Museum. 25 See Hunter, The Place of Stone, pp. 148−53, quoting Jared Sparks, ‘Antiquities of North America’, American Monthly Magazine, XLVI (January 1836), 67. 26 Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, ‘The Skeleton in Armor’, Ballads and Other Poems (Cambridge: John Owen, 1841), pp. 29−41. See further Angela Sorby’s chapter 10 in this volume. 27 James Fenimore Cooper, The Red Rover: A Tale (Albany: State University of New York Press, 1991), pp. 5−11. 28 George C. Mason, Newport and Its Cottages (Boston: J. R. Osgood, 1875), p. 21; and George William Sheldon, Artistic Country-Seats, 2 vols (New York: De Capo Press, 1979), vol. 2, pp. 184−7. See also Walter Rowlands, ‘The Miss Wolfe collection’, Art Journal (January 1889), 12−15. 29 See Edward R. Bosley, ‘Two sides of the river: Morris & American arts and crafts’, in Diane Waggoner (ed.), The Beauty of Life: William Morris & The Art of Design (London: Thames & Hudson, 2003), pp. 140−3; Anthony Crane, ‘Walter Crane’s Skeleton in Armor’, The Nineteenth Century, 12 (1993), 18−23; Rowland Elzae, ‘The Viking ship window’, Tiller, 2 (March–April 1984), 60−3; Morina O’Neill, ‘Paintings from nowhere: Walter Crane, socialism and the aesthetic interior’, in Jason Edwards and Imogen Hart (eds), Rethinking the Interior, c. 1867–1896 (Farnham, Surrey: Ashgate, 2010), pp. 147−63; Otto von Schleinitz, Walter Crane (Bielefeld: Verlag von Velhagen & Klasing, 1902), pp. 32−9; and Adrienne Leigh Sharpe and Sarah Kutcha, ‘Rediscovering Vinland’, PRSUS: The Pre-Raphaelite Society Newsletter of the United States, 17 (2007), 1−3. 30 Edwin M. Bacon, Historic Pilgrimages in New England (New York: Silver, Burdett & Company, 1898), pp. 445−7; and ‘History of Gerry’s Landing: Leif Erikson is supposed to have settled there 900 years ago’, Cambridge Tribune (19 May 1917), p. 5. Horsford was tireless in his efforts to prove a continued Viking presence in and around

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

60

Imagination and ideology

Cambridge, and he published volume after volume to bolster his case. See, for example, Eben Norbert Horsford, The Discovery of the Ancient City of Norumbega (Boston: Houghton Mifflin, 1890) and Eben Norbert Horsford, Leif’s House in Vinland (Boston: Damrell and Upham, 1893). 31 David S. Brody, Cabal of the Westford Knight: Templars at the Newport Tower (Groton: Martin and Lawrence Press, 2009). The subsequent titles in the series are: Thief on the Cross: Templar Secrets in America (2012), Powdered Gold: Templars and the American Ark of the Covenant (2013), The Oath of Nimrod: Giants, MK-Ultra and the Smithsonian Coverup (2014), The Isaac Question: Templars and the Secrets of the Old Testament (2015), Echoes of Atlantis: Crones, Templars and the Lost Continent (2016), and The Cult of Venus: Templars and the Ancient Goddess (2017). 32 ‘The American Templars (2013), IMDb, https://www.imdb.com/title/ tt3288776/plotsummary?ref_=tt_ov_pl (last accessed 24 September 2019); The American Templars, dir. Michael Carr, USA: American Templars Productions, 2013. 33 See David Goudsward and Robert E. Stone, America’s Stonehenge (Boston: Branden Books, 2014). 34 See David Goudsward, The Westford Knight and Henry Sinclair: Evidence of a 14th Century Scottish Voyage to North America (Jefferson: McFarland & Co., 2010); Roddy Martine, The Secrets of Rosslyn (Edinburgh: Birlinn, 2016); and Brian Smith, ‘Earl Henry Sinclair’s fictitious trip to America’, New Orkney Antiquarian Journal, 2 (2002), 3−18. 35 Ernest Jasper Hinds, Newport Poems (Boston: Christopher Publishing House, 1942), pp. 147−8.

4 Critiquing Columbus with the Vinland sagas Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

Matthew Scribner

Christopher Columbus has one country and several smaller political districts named after him. His arrival on 12 October in the Bahamas is commemorated as a national holiday on both sides of the Atlantic, and he is still credited with the ‘discovery’ of the Americas. Yet, as is well known, his legacy has been challenged by indigenous people in North and South America, as well as by peers and compatriots dating back to Bartolomé de las Casas in the sixteenth century. These accounts point to the brutal subjugation of indigenous people that Columbus personally oversaw, to say nothing of the history of European colonisation that he initiated across the continents. Doubts about Columbus’s achievement may have existed since 1492, but they reached a fevered pitch during the 1992 quincentenary, and as recently as August 2018 people in St Louis, Missouri debated what to do with the statue of Columbus in the city’s Tower Grove Park.1 Just as fevered have been the reactions to these doubts. Pieces by Charles Krauthammer in Time magazine and Jeffrey Hart in National Review thus dismiss antiColumbus sentiment as simply another example of the political correctness that, they say, is tearing society apart.2 Examples of this ongoing conflict continue to proliferate. The debate has resulted in one recent change, or so I would suggest. There is now much more hesitation than before to associate the word ‘discover’ with Columbus’s voyages. After all, it is demonstrably inaccurate. People settled, and thus ‘discovered’, the Americas 14,000 years ago. But even insofar as Europeans go, the first visitors came to North America around the year 1000, not in 1492. At that time, as Helge Ingstad and Anne Stine Ingstad have shown, Scandinavians journeyed to and temporarily settled the area near L’Anse aux Meadows, Newfoundland. While their discovery hardly proves every detail in the Old Norse Vinland sagas, The Saga of the Greenlanders and Eirik the Red’s Saga, it does affirm

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

62

Imagination and ideology

that medieval Scandinavians did indeed voyage to North America. If any European deserves the title of ‘Discoverer of the Americas’, it would be Leif Eiriksson, not Columbus. But then, that is the point. No European deserves that title. For, if the Vinland sagas challenge the aura of Columbus as ‘discoverer’, they also can be used to replace Columbus with Leif and thereby reproduce the Eurocentrism that is the problem with Columbus in the first place. To see how critics of Columbus have dealt with this problem, I surveyed several works of history, especially popular history, which is crucial to understanding how historical memories are produced and function. I restricted myself to works that criticise aspects of Columbus’s legacy and that date to no earlier than the second half of the twentieth century.3 I learned that some critics do indeed include the Norse voyages in a way that challenges Columbus but accidentally reinforces Eurocentrism, though others simply ignore the sagas. In what follows, I want to uncover what scholars, journalists, and other (purported) experts are saying about Vinland and Columbus, as well as how the debate is being shaped for an audience interested in history and high truth claims. I reserve much of my discussion for James L. Loewen’s popular book Lies My Teacher Told Me, which has a more sustained engagement with the Norse voyages than most others.4 A best-seller that has reached many people, Loewen’s book illustrates the strengths and weaknesses of the popular history genre: it insightfully argues that what is important about the Old Norse sagas is that they show how the Norse fought against and lost to indigenous peoples, but its insights are tempered by Loewen’s own misunderstanding of medieval history and culture. In performing this analysis, I want to uncover the importance of popular works of historical non-fiction, as well as highlight an essentially pro-indigenous application of the Vinland sagas: namely, that it is not so much the arrival but rather the retreat of the Norse travellers that makes them historically significant. Throughout my analysis, I focus on the term ‘discovery’ as a benchmark for whether an interpretation is pro-indigenous or not. I do so because indigenous scholars and activists have long seized on this very term and its relative, ‘exploration’, as phrases that have justified the colonisation and exploitation of indigenous communities. In David A. Chang’s view, As generations of critical scholars in history, geography, literature, and cultural studies have now emphasized, the classic narrative of

Critiquing Columbus with the Vinland sagas

63

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

European discovery celebrates an untroubled quest for knowledge spurred by the Enlightenment. The story of discovery masks the fact that the act of exploring and the creation of the ideas and practices we commonly call European global geography served the process of European imperial expansion.5

The whole aura around ‘discovery’ and ‘exploration’, then, paints early modern explorers as heroic, when their real goals were in fact violent and mercenary. More basically, of course, ‘discovery’ implies that there were not people, or not ‘real’ people, already in the discovered land, and it thereby renders the taking of that land as apparently unproblematic. That is the essence of the 1493 Doctrine of Discovery, a Papal Bull which granted Spain possession of all land west of the Azores and Cape Verde and which over 500 years later remains controversial. Indeed, on 3 November 2016, following a campaign at the UN Permanent Forum on Indigenous Issues, activists at North Dakota’s Oceti Sakowin Camp burned a copy of this 500-year-old Doctrine.6 ‘Discovery’ also sets up European researchers as gatherers of colonialist knowledge that marginalises indigenous experiences. Edward Said, in Orientalism, famously showed the complicity between supposedly disinterested academics and these colonial managers. Said was inspired by Michel Foucault’s idea of Power/ Knowledge, and how knowledge itself can be a tool in the hand of oppressors. And in this same vein Linda Tuhiwai Smith has said, The ways in which scientific research is implicated in the worst excesses of colonialism remains a powerful remembered history for many of the world’s colonized peoples. It is a history that still offends the deepest sense of our humanity. Just knowing that someone measured our ‘faculties’ by filling the skulls of our ancestors with millet seeds and compared the amount of millet seed to the capacity for mental thought offends our sense of who and what we are.7

In Western historical mythmaking, Columbus and his ilk (including Copernicus and Galileo) are members of a group of early modern and contemporary knowledge seekers whom Smith goes on to cite as part of the discovery process: ‘Research within latemodern and late-colonial conditions continues relentlessly and brings with it a new wave of exploration, discovery, exploitation and appropriation.’8 Her stark statement underlines the sheer impact that ‘discovery’ and its related terms have for indigenous

64

Imagination and ideology

activists. Although any study using the Norse to unsettle the idea of ‘discovery’ has potential as a pro-indigenous critique of Columbus, if the study simply replaces Columbus with the Norse as discoverers, it does little to respond to Smith’s concerns.

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

The uses of the Vinland sagas Columbus’s right to the title of ‘discoverer’ has been contested many times throughout the centuries, and the Vinland stories have often played a role in those challenges. As several scholars have shown, since the nineteenth century the issue has become tied up in tensions between Protestants and Catholics in the United States, with the medieval Norse anachronistically representing the Protestantism of modern-day Scandinavia.9 Works published before the discoveries at L’Anse aux Meadows and using evidence of variable quality, further, tend to get bogged down in polemic over the mere fact of the Norse voyages. For instance, in his 1957 The Truth about Columbus and the Discovery of America, Charles Duff attacks the notion of Columbus as a ‘discoverer’: ‘The name of Christopher Columbus is associated with the discovery of America, but it would be more reasonable to consider this man as the first exploiter of the New World rather than its actual discoverer. How long the original inhabitants had been there before he went, nobody knows.’10 Duff builds on that thought and calls the indigenous people ‘the original “discoverers”’,11 but quickly abandons any indigenous focus. By the next page, indeed, he is discussing other purported pre-Columbian travellers to North America and even speculating about Plato’s Atlantis.12 Eventually, via a secondary source, he cites a Chinese historian, Li Yen, who claims that Chinese travellers came to America: ‘If this statement is true – and there is no reason to doubt it – there need be no great reason to doubt the theory that “Indian” races of the American continent are of Asiatic origin.’13 By using the Bering Land Bridge theory – a theory about far more historically removed ­migrations – Duff leaves the implication that indigenous communities are descended from (relatively recent) Chinese seafarers. Duff mentions the Norse voyages to North America as part of this list of pre-Columbian voyages, treating the Vinland sagas and Adam of Bremen’s discussion of Vinland as firm authorities. While Duff does not scrutinise these sources for accuracy, he does say that they ‘justif[y] us in drawing definite conclusions, of which the most modest is that the existence of land on the other side of the

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

Critiquing Columbus with the Vinland sagas

65

Atlantic was both proved and recorded’.14 Michael A. Musmanno, in a fiery defence of Columbus written in 1966, attacked this early trend of using the sagas as reliable sources and, given their obviously literary objectives, it is hard to blame him.15 But above all Duff’s The Truth about Columbus shows that before the L’Anse aux Meadows excavations, a desire to demote Columbus as ‘discoverer’ already existed, even if it did not always involve pro-indigenous sentiments or concerns. Works written closer to the quincentenary of Columbus’s voyages devote more attention to criticism of their captain. John Noble Wilford’s 1992 The Mysterious History of Columbus is one such book,16 although it summarily dismisses the notion of European contact with North America prior to 1492: ‘If others besides the indigenous people themselves preceded Columbus in finding America, and they almost certainly did, their imprint on history was negligible. … they either failed to make their way back or left no account to inform and inspire succeeding generations’.17 Wilford adds, ‘Eriksson and the others may have reached America, but they failed to discover it’.18 In journalist Kirkpatrick Sale’s The Conquest of Paradise (1990), however, the fact that others ‘discovered’ North America does serve to subvert Columbus’s importance and perhaps even to heighten indigenous complaints: Except, of course, [Columbus] did not discover it. … Whatever may have been in the Admiral’s mind – and the idea of discovery, as we have seen, was only one possibility – we can say with assurance that no such event as ‘discovery’ took place. For one thing, that first island, and the chain of islands of which it was a part, and the two continents to which it was adjacent, were quite well known to the millions of people who inhabited them and who had discovered them on behalf of the human species tens of thousands of years before. … For another, the landmass that is today known as North America, to which the Bahamian islands are geologically and biologically related, was discovered and temporarily settled by Europeans at least as early as AD 1000. There is now no question whatsoever that Norse explorers, presumably sailing from their colonies in Greenland, came upon Baffin Island, Labrador, and Newfoundland, all parts of North America, in the eleventh century and established settlements for at least several years in all those places.19

The passage challenges Columbus’s ‘discovery’ in several ways: first, by alluding to the admiral’s more pecuniary motivations;

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

66

Imagination and ideology

second, by contrasting the supposed discovery with the indigenous ownership of the land that dates back thousands of years; and third, by appending the story of the Norse visits to North America. The clear implication, then, is that the Norse visits further undermine the already problematic idea that Columbus ‘discovered’ North America. The Norse visits do not play a central role in Sale’s book, which is mostly an examination of Columbus. But the way he raises the issue still brings a troubling question to mind. If his purpose is to defend indigenous claims, why does he bolster them with nonindigenous events? Mentioning the Norse voyages might seem to throw an easy wrench into the rhetorical work of ‘discovery’, but it also risks giving the European claim to North America a 492-year boost. This is not a hypothetical risk. In their 2000 Sinking Columbus, Stephen J. Summerhill and John Alexander Williams (two writers involved in organising the quincentenary celebrations) present themselves as open-minded insiders. And they do in fact acknowledge the indigenous people as ‘the true discoverers of America’, even as they also dismiss the importance of the Norse and other purported pre-Columbian European visits: ‘these contacts led to no demonstrable impact on the destinies of either hemisphere, whereas Columbus’s voyage of 1492 and its aftermath transformed both forever’.20 Yet they also cite some instances where genuine indigenous claims to ‘discovery’ have been superseded by bogus Norse ones. They point out, for example, that the state capitol in St Paul, Minnesota has statues of both Columbus and Leif Eiriksson, with each labelled ‘Discoverer of America’.21 They also mention that the Kensington Runestone is correctly viewed as a hoax by some of the same historians who support the statue of Leif and its false implications about a Norse presence in North America. Summerhill and Alexander relate how the runestone, itself the product and object of popular history, has in turn inspired further popular history, including Garrison Keillor’s ironic send-up of Scandinavian-American sentiments in the fictional town of Lake Wobegon, Minnesota. ‘Every Columbus Day’, Keillor deadpans, ‘the [Lake Wobegon] runestone is carried up to the school and put on a card-table in the lunchroom for the children to see, so that they can know their true heritage’.22 While Keillor’s Lake Wobegon runestone is invented out of whole cloth, similar spurious Viking artefacts have the potential to inspire historical sentiments and real feelings. Of course, any genuine medieval Norse relic would be worth seeing. But the issues are, first, that the vast majority of such relics are bogus and, second,

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

Critiquing Columbus with the Vinland sagas

67

that the promotion of the Vinland story through them does nothing to advance pro-indigenous history. Such promotion serves only to convince North Americans that their ‘heritage’ is with another group of white people. James Robert Enterline comes close to making the same mistake in his 1972 Viking America. The book is not explicitly about Columbus and, perhaps because the L’Anse aux Meadows excavations were relatively recent, it is still more focused on uncovering evidence of the Norse voyages. Nonetheless, what it says about the relationship between Columbus, the Norse voyages, and indigenous people bears on the present discussion. Enterline condemns worship of Columbus as a hero, but adds that he is only part of a tradition that includes the Norse.23 He attributes the elevation of Columbus to a supposed historiographical bias towards Italy (as a successor of the Roman Empire) and against Teutonic peoples.24 And while Enterline claims that the Norse ‘learned map making from the Eskimos’,25 he has a tendency to argue more for the influence of the Norse on indigenous peoples than the other way around. His discussion of an archaeological find of ‘a number of thick lines of baleen fiber with heavy knots and lashings’ serves as an example of this propensity to attribute technology to the Norse: ‘Until some conceivable Eskimo function is found for them, it is tempting to speculate that they were intended for rigging on Norse ships.’26 The authenticity of specific archaeological finds is a topic beyond the scope of this essay, but regardless of the accuracy of Enterline’s speculations, their overall effect is to denigrate ­indigenous ­achievements in favour of European ones.27 A further escalation of this denigrating trend is the occasional practice of claiming (blatantly inaccurately) that pre-Columbian indigenous peoples are descended from Europeans, or that Europeans contributed in widespread ways to pre-Columbian indigenous civilisations. Pierre Honoré’s 1963 In Quest of the White God exemplifies such a practice. Writing about South America, Honoré observes: ‘Ancient Indian legends tell us that at some point in the mists of pre-history white men with beards landed on the shores of the New World. They brought the Indians all their science, knowledge of engineering, laws, and their higher level of civilisation. These men became the White Gods of the Indian countries.’28 Although North America and the Norse voyages are not Honoré’s focus, he uses the Vinland story to back up his larger picture of pre-Columbian contact with culturally limited ­indigenous peoples:

68

Imagination and ideology

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

At any rate most scholars are agreed that men from east Asia discovered America long before Columbus. It was therefore ‘discovered’ at least four times: first by nomad hordes who crossed the Bering Strait over 10,000 years ago; then by merchants from South-East Asia between AD 300 and 1200, thirdly by Vikings, starting out from Iceland and Greenland, who founded a colony in Vinland, and finally by Columbus.29

Were it not for the growing audience of Honoré’s more recent successors in the area of pseudo-history, it would be tempting to dismiss claims like these and relegate them to the realm of conspiracy theories. One reason for the popularity of Honoré’s views may be that, by elevating the Norse as the real ‘discoverers’ of North America, they enable the Vikings to reproduce impulses from the Age of Exploration. And in fact the Vinland sagas do tell a story of what is effectively a colonial challenge to indigenous land. This is the case in the first Norse encounter with the so-called skrælings as it is presented in The Saga of the Greenlanders (Grænlendinga saga): [Thorvald] then spoke: ‘This is an attractive spot, and here I would like to build my farm.’ As they headed back to the ship they saw three hillocks on the beach inland from the cape. Upon coming closer they saw they were three hide-covered boats, with three men under the each of them. They divided their forces and managed to capture all of them except one, who escaped with his boat. They killed the other eight and went back to the cape. On surveying the area they saw a number of hillocks further up the fjord, and assumed them to be settlements.30

Thorvald voices his intention to settle – that is, to colonise – the new land mere moments before the Norse attack the native inhabitants without provocation. Clearly, then, the violent appropriation of foreign and exotic lands is an idea that the Norse could have had, and Geraldine Barnes identifies a similarly colonialist appetite for the wealth of the indigenous people: ‘With grapevines and timber for the taking and a native population willing to barter unlimited supplies of furs for milk (Grænlendinga saga) or pieces of red cloth (Eiríks saga rauða), Vinland was a potential colony in the sense in which John Stuart Mill defined England’s possessions in the West Indies.’31 To be sure, the West Indies colonies were perceived to be more places of pure resources than independent countries with their own legitimate interests in trade, as the Norse seemed to have viewed North America.32 But if the colonialism on display in the

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

Critiquing Columbus with the Vinland sagas

69

Vinland sagas differs in the details from that found in the early modern period, it is still recognisably colonialism. In criticism of Columbus, another possible (if not widely followed) recent strategy is simply to ignore the Vinland story and instead emphasise the perspective of the colonised indigenes. This is just what David E. Stannard does in his 1992, provocatively titled American Holocaust, which does not discuss Vinland and, in fact, mentions Vikings only by comparing the diversity of indigenous societies to that of Anglo-Saxon England, which was comprised of multiple identities, including Norse.33 The overall thrust of the book is that pre-Columbian societies were unique and special. Similarly, Howard Zinn, in his famous A People’s History of the United States, first published in 1980, does not mention Vinland in his accusations that Columbus committed crimes against indigenous people, whom he instead lets speak for themselves.34 Reckoning with the textbooks Lies My Teacher Told Me by James L. Loewen, a professor at the University of Vermont, engages with the Vinland sagas in a more thorough way than the authors already discussed. Having sold two million copies and republished as recently as August 2018, the book has influenced both popular and academic audiences in numerous ways, whether by educators making changes to their history curriculums or by admirers recommending it as historical non-fiction.35 Loewen has also published a supplementary volume, Lies My Teacher Told Me About Christopher Columbus, which is a rewrite of his original Columbus chapter targeted directly at highschool students.36 Lies My Teacher Told Me is a survey of the United States’ most popular American history textbooks and a criticism of their interpretations and omissions. Its opening chapter is ruthless towards Columbus, and Loewen is clear that the reasons behind his critique have to do with the suffering of indigenous people at the hands of Columbus and the erasure of their accomplishments through history.37 Like other writers already discussed, he pinpoints the problem in the word ‘discover’: The term New World is itself part of the problem, for people had lived in the Americas for thousands of years. The Americas were new only to Europeans. Discover is another part of the problem,

70

Imagination and ideology

for how can one person discover what another knows and owns? Textbook authors are struggling with this issue, trying to move beyond colonialized history and Eurocentric language.38

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

Loewen’s engagement with the Norse voyages therefore aims to unseat Columbus as the first ‘discoverer’. He criticises the textbooks he surveys for minimising the voyages and argues for their inclusion: It may be fair to say that the Vikings’ voyages had little lasting effect on the fate of the world. Should textbooks therefore leave them out? Is impact on the present the sole reason for including an event or fact? It cannot be, of course, or our history books would shrink to twenty-page pamphlets. We include the Norse voyages, not for their ostensible geopolitical significance, but because including them gives a more complete picture of the past. Moreover, if textbooks would only intelligently compare the Norse voyages to Columbus’s second voyage, they would help students understand the changes that took place in Europe between 1000 and 1493.39

If textbook authors were to follow Loewen’s advice, the impact could indeed be to present a broader view of the Americas prior to 1492, a view that would give more space for indigenous contributions to these continents. Just mentioning the year 1000 in the context of American history, for example, invites students to consider what happened between then and 1492, with the conclusion being that indigenous people lived their lives and continued their society. Yet Loewen instead presents the timespan as an opportunity to learn about the Renaissance in Europe and so again ultimately emphasises Columbus over indigenous people. Moreover, his characterisation of ‘the changes that took place in Europe between 1000 and 1493’ damages his case, as will become clear shortly. Loewen does make an argument that other recent anti-­Columbus writers do not. That is, he favourably contrasts the morality of the Vikings with that of Columbus. Expressing high praise of Leif, he writes: ‘Columbus’s importance in history owes precisely to his being both a heroic navigator and a great plunderer. If Columbus were only the former, he would merely rival Leif Eriksson.’40 As we have seen, though, the Vinland sagas’ descriptions of the Norse encounters with indigenous people do not leave the former sounding heroic to modern ears. In the same vein, however, Loewen believes that the Norse were less greedy than Columbus: A third important development [in the Renaissance] was ideological or even theological: amassing wealth and dominating other people

Critiquing Columbus with the Vinland sagas

71

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

came to be positively valued as the key means of winning esteem on earth and salvation in the hereafter. As Columbus put it, ‘Gold is most excellent; gold constitutes treasure; and he who has it does all he wants in the world, and can even lift souls up to Paradise.’ In 1005 the Vikings intended only to settle Vineland, their name for New England and the maritime provinces of Canada. By 1493 Columbus planned to plunder Haiti.41

In this passage, Loewen ultimately responds to only a stereotype – that medieval people were more spiritual than Renaissance people. And even if that were true, it would still be wrong to suggest that medieval people were not interested in gold. Indeed, other Norse sagas are replete with stories of Vikings attacking people for their treasure.42 This is one of several misunderstandings of medieval religion and culture in Loewen’s text. He also writes, for example, that a ‘fourth factor affecting Europe’s readiness to embrace a “new” continent was the particular nature of Christianity. Europeans believed in a transportable, proselytizing religion that rationalized conquest.’43 Yet as the Vinland sagas themselves attest, in about the year 1000 the Norse of Iceland had become Christian and were themselves, like their fifteenth-century Italian successors, given to proselytising. But if Loewen understates the influence of medieval Christianity here, he overstates the influence of Renaissance Christianity elsewhere: Perhaps the most far-reaching impact of Columbus’s findings was on European Christianity. In 1492 all of Europe was in the grip of the Catholic Church. As the Encyclopedia Larousse puts it, before America, ‘Europe was virtually incapable of self-criticism’. After America, Europe’s religious uniformity was ruptured. For how were these new peoples to be explained? … Moreover, unlike the Muslims, who might be written off as ‘damned infidels’, American Indians had not rejected Christianity, they had just never ­encountered it.44

Besides occluding Eastern Orthodox Christianity, Loewen overstates the depth of the Church’s influence. No doubt the encounter with indigenous people challenged the Western outlook, and Loewen is quite right to recognise as much. Yet the phrase ‘incap­ able of self-criticism’ is demonstrably inaccurate; in the fourteenth century, Boccaccio and Chaucer mocked and criticised aspects of their own culture, as did other medieval writers. As I have suggested here, further, a nuanced understanding of European

72

Imagination and ideology

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

c­ olonisation efforts needs to consider the influence of the Vikings as well as Columbus on North America. Loewen does, however, point to one strategy for presenting a truer pro-indigenous usage of the Vinland story, and that is emphasising the fact that the Norse lost. He acknowledges as much in his initial summary of the sagas: ‘Then conflict with Native Americans caused them to give up’.45 And later he writes: After all, Native Americans had driven off Samuel de Champlain when he had tried to settle in Massachusetts in 1601. The following year, Abenakis had helped expel the first Plymouth Company settlement in Maine. Alfred Crosby has speculated that the Norse might have succeeded in colonizing Newfoundland and Labrador if they had not had the bad luck to emigrate from Greenland and Iceland, distant from European disease centers. But this is ‘what if’ history.46

Despite this last dismissal, Loewen’s point here is important. ‘What if’ history encourages ‘what ifs’ for the future and so helps students to examine the world that they inhabit. The allusion (via Crosby) to the diseases that played such a large role in European conquests is certainly important, but in this regard so, too, is the clear sense of indigenous peoples’ resistance to the Norse narrated in Eirik the Red’s Saga (Eiríks saga rauða): One morning Karlsefni’s men saw something shiny above a clearing in the trees, and they called out. It moved and proved to be a one-legged creature which darted down to where the ship lay tied. Thorvald, Eirik the Red’s son, was at the helm, and the one-legged man shot an arrow into his intestine. Thorvald drew the arrow out and spoke: ‘Fat paunch that was. We’ve found a land of fine resources, though we’ll hardly enjoy much of them.’ Thorvald died from the wound shortly after. The one-legged man then ran off back north. They pursued him and caught glimpses of him now and again. He then fled into a cove and they turned back. … They soon left to head northwards where they thought they sighted the Land of the One-Legged, but did not want to put their lives in further danger.47

The narrative is clearly fantastical and, even bypassing the supernatural elements, we cannot assume that it describes any actual historical event. Nevertheless, it is striking that the saga tells of an indigenous attack against the Norse that successfully drives off the invaders fearing for their lives. Karlsefni similarly decides to leave after a skræling attack in The Saga of the Greenlanders.48 There are certainly technological reasons that early modern Europeans experienced greater success in conquering the Americas than did

Critiquing Columbus with the Vinland sagas

73

medieval Europeans. But the Vinland sagas still give the lie to the persistent myth of European military superiority. They instead show that European ambitions could be thwarted.

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

Conclusion Columbus’s image may have been damaged over the years, but there is still a popular narrative that elevates him to hero status. More than that, he symbolises an idea of inevitable historical progress that is often merely a stand-in for Western domination. Columbus, then, deserves to be criticised. Describing his influence on history as ‘discovery’ has always been misleading. It sanitises his crimes against humanity, but it also distracts from the more consequential legacy of the Columbian exchange. It is therefore tempting but simplistic to attack the status of ‘discoverer’ by pointing to the Norse who arrived at North America hundreds of years earlier. Indeed, this strategy presents its own problems. One is the risk of overstating the contrast between the Norse and Columbus: though there were genuine, and important, differences between the two, praising the Norse as moral explorers uninterested in colonialism is not accurate. A more serious problem is that replacing Columbus with Leif on the pedestal labelled ‘discoverer’ does nothing to disturb the Eurocentric interpretation of North American history. Popular historians writing about Columbus have responded to these challenges with various methods and motivations. For these writers, the Vinland sagas can be a rod for beating Columbus, a dusty source of history, or something to ignore. If few critics treat the sagas as stories in and of themselves, it may be because the stories of the Norse voyages necessarily have relevance to how we understand the sometimes uncomfortable relationship between indigenous people in the Americas and settler societies. It has been easiest, then, simply to ignore them. In any case, since Columbus features so prominently in this debate, as is likely to be the case for some time, it is important to get our stories straight. Notes  1 Lisa Gutierrez, ‘Christopher Columbus has been in this St. Louis park for 130 years. Will he have to go?’, Kansas City Star (31 August 2018), https://www.kansascity.com/news/state/missouri/article217636400.ht​ m​l, last accessed 30 December 2018.

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

74

Imagination and ideology

 2 Marvin Lunenfeld, ‘Columbus-bashing: culture wars over the construction of an anti-hero’, in Mario B. Mignone (ed.), Columbus: Meeting of Cultures. Proceedings of the Symposium Held at the State University of New York at Stony Brook, October 16–17, 1992 (Stony Brook: Forum Italicum, 1993), p. 6.  3 Most popular histories dealing with the Norse voyages to America published prior to the L’Anse aux Meadows excavations spend much of their energy trying to establish the truth of the Norse voyages. Annette Kolodny describes this trend with regard to the end of the nineteenth century. As for the first half of the twentieth century, I do mention some examples in passing in my essay. Annette Kolodny, In Search of First Contact: The Vikings of Vinland, the Peoples of the Dawnland, and the Anglo-American Anxiety of Discovery (Durham and London: Duke University Press, 2012), pp. 213−20.  4 James W. Loewen, Lies My Teacher Told Me: Everything Your American History Textbook Got Wrong, rev. edn (New York: New Press, 2018).  5 David A. Chang, The World and All the Things Upon It: Native Hawaiian Geographies of Exploration (Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press, 2017), p. viii.  6 Baron Pineda, ‘Indigenous Pan-Americanism: contesting settler colonialism and the doctrine of discovery at the UN permanent ­ forum on indigenous issues’, American Quarterly, 69:4 (2017), 823−32 (823).  7 Linda Tuhiwai Smith, Decolonizing Methodologies: Research and Indigenous Peoples, 2nd edn (London: Zed Books, 2012), p. 1. Smith herself cites Said and Foucault in her work, but she is also inspired by personal experience (pp. 1−2).  8 Smith, Decolonizing Methodologies, p. 25.  9 Geraldine Barnes, Viking America: The First Millennium (Cambridge: D.S. Brewer, 2001), p. 65. The Protestant affiliation with the Norse is, of course, tenuous, given that Protestantism did not exist in the Middle Ages and that any Christians among the medieval Norse were Catholic. And, to be sure, some nineteenth-century Catholic Americans did identify with the medieval Norse, too, according to Kolodny, In Search of First Contact, p. 215. See also Amy Mulligan’s chapter 6 and Bergur Þorgeirsson’s chapter 7 in this volume. 10 Charles Duff, The Truth about Columbus and the Discovery of America (London: Jarrolds, 1957), p. 3 11 Duff, The Truth about Columbus, p. 3. 12 Duff, The Truth about Columbus, p. 4. 13 Duff, The Truth about Columbus, p. 5. 14 Duff, The Truth about Columbus, p. 12. 15 Michael A. Musmanno, Columbus WAS First (New York: Fountain­ head Publishers, 1966), pp. 81−2. Musmanno, incidentally, is guilty of

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

Critiquing Columbus with the Vinland sagas

75

the same shortcoming when he cites Washington Irving’s biography of Columbus as a reliable authority, pp. 84−5. 16 John Noble Wilford, The Mysterious History of Columbus: An Exploration of the Man, the Myth, the Legacy (New York: Vintage Books, 1992), p. 278. 17 Wilford, The Mysterious History of Columbus, p. 4. 18 Wilford, The Mysterious History of Columbus, p. 6. 19 Kirkpatrick Sale, The Conquest of Paradise: Christopher Columbus and the Columbian Legacy (New York: Alfred A. Knopf, 1990), pp. 69−70. 20 Stephen J. Summerhill and John Alexander Williams, Sinking Columbus: Contested History, Cultural Politics, and Mythmaking during the Quincentenary (Gainesville: University Press of Florida, 2000), p. 19. 21 Summerhill and Williams, Sinking Columbus, p. 18. 22 Quoted in Summerhill and Williams, Sinking Columbus, p. 18. 23 James Robert Enterline, Viking America: The Norse Crossings and their Legacy (Garden City: Double Day and Company, 1972), p. 102. 24 Enterline, Viking America, p. 110. 25 Enterline, Viking America, p. 128. As is now better known, the indigenous inhabitants of Greenland and Nunavut call themselves the Inuit, not Eskimos. 26 Enterline, Viking America, p. 121. 27 Attributing indigenous technology to the Norse goes back much earlier than Enterline, of course. See also Kolodny, In Search of First Contact, p. 237. 28 Pierre Honoré, In Quest of the White God: The Mysterious Heritage of South American Civilization (New York: Putnam, 1963), p. 15. 29 Honoré, In Quest of the White God, p. 112. 30 The Saga of the Greenlanders, trans. Keneva Kunz, in Viðar Hreinsson, Robert Cook, Terry Gunnell, Keneva Kunz, and Bernard Scudder (eds), The Complete Sagas of Icelanders, Including 49 Tales, 5 vols (Reykjavík: Leifur Eiríksson Publishing, 1997), vol. 1, pp. 19−32 (25). 31 Barnes, Viking America, p. xiv. 32 Barnes, Viking America, p. xiv. 33 David E. Stannard, American Holocaust: The Conquest of the New World (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1992), p. 49. 34 Howard Zinn, A People’s History of the United States: 1492−Present (New York: HarperPerennial, 2005), pp. 1−11. 35 Sean Illing, ‘The biggest lie we still teach in American history classes’, Vox (20 November 2018), www.vox.com/conversations/ 2018/8/1/17602596/american-history-james-loewen-howard-zinn, last accessed 31 December 2018. 36 James W. Loewen, Lies My Teacher Told Me About Christopher Columbus: What Your History Books Got Wrong, 2nd edn (New York: New Press, 2014).

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

76

Imagination and ideology

37 Loewen, Lies My Teacher Told Me, pp. 46, 53, 63. 38 Loewen, Lies My Teacher Told Me, p. 65. Loewen makes the same point about indigenous people being the original discoverers and about the omission of the Norse in Lies My Teacher Told Me About Christopher Columbus. He says that ‘another problem word’ is the word ‘Discover’, and adds: ‘But textbooks use “discover” to mean finding something previously unknown to whites’: Loewen, Lies My Teacher Told Me About Christopher Columbus, p. 8. He also has a section heading that reads ‘The first explorers were American Indians’: Loewen, Lies My Teacher Told Me About Christopher Columbus, p. 17. 39 Loewen, Lies My Teacher Told Me, p. 42. Again, Loewen returns to this point in Lies My Teacher Told Me About Christopher Columbus, criticising a textbook that minimises the Vinland voyages. 40 Loewen, Lies My Teacher Told Me, p. 64. 41 Loewen, Lies My Teacher Told Me, p. 36. 42 See for example: Egil’s Saga, trans. Bernard Scudder, in Viðar Hreinsson, Robert Cook, Terry Gunnell, Keneva Kunz, and Bernard Scudder (eds), The Complete Sagas of Icelanders, Including 49 Tales, 5 vols (Reykjavík: Leifur Eiríksson Publishing, 1997), vol. 1, pp. 33−178 (85−7). 43 Loewen, Lies My Teacher Told Me, p. 36. 44 Loewen, Lies My Teacher Told Me, p. 61. 45 Loewen, Lies My Teacher Told Me, p. 42. 46 Loewen, Lies My Teacher Told Me, p. 77. Loewen also criticises the omission of other indigenous military victories later in the book, citing the defeat of General Braddock at Pennsylvania in 1755 (p. 119). 47 Eirik the Red’s Saga, trans. Keneva Kunz, in Viðar Hreinsson, Robert Cook, Terry Gunnell, Keneva Kunz, and Bernard Scudder (eds), The Complete Sagas of Icelanders, Including 49 Tales, 5 vols (Reykjavík: Leifur Eiríksson Publishing, 1997), vol. 1, pp. 1−18 (17). 48 The Saga of the Greenlanders, pp. 31−2.

5 Vinland and white nationalism

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

Verena Höfig

On 26 May 2017, a thirty-five-year-old man, Jeremy Joseph Christian, cut the throats of two passengers and stabbed a third one on a commuter train in suburban Portland, Oregon. According to eyewitnesses, Christian had yelled racist insults towards two young Muslim women, one wearing a hijab. When fellow passengers tried to intervene, Christian stabbed them. He was known in the alt-right scene, and had been seen frequently at various rallies in Portland. He was captured on video during a ‘free speech rally’ in April giving Nazi salutes, and posted anti-Semitic material on social media, along with the rallying cry: ‘Hail Vinland! Hail Victory’.1 Using ‘Vinland’ to signify a whites-only United States is not a new idea. Celebrating Leif Eiriksson’s discovery of the New World and the short-lived Norse colony in Arctic Canada as major historical achievements is not a domain reserved for Scandinavian-Americans celebrating Leif Erikson Day, either – Vinland has become a term frequently evoked by white nationalists in the United States. There is even a ‘Vinland Flag’, designed by Peter Steele, frontman of the gothic metal band Type O Negative, and modelled on the flags of Scandinavian nations around a so-called Nordic Cross (a cross with the centre shifted towards the left on a rectangular field), with a white-contoured black cross on a green background. Steele, who died in 2010 and was proud of his Icelandic ancestry, designed the flag to express his interest in Norse paganism, environmentalism, and the idea of a ‘People’s Technocratic Republic of Vinland’, a term frequently used on the band’s merchandise and also the title of a 1996 Type O Negative song.2 While Steele did not express openly racist thoughts, but romanticised the idea of early Norse colonies on North American ground, his flag has nonetheless become a white supremacist symbol. It is frequently used by racist groups, among them the so-called Vinlander’s Social Club, a neo-pagan skinhead

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

78

Imagination and ideology

group with several members incarcerated for hate crimes, including the killing of a white woman who was seen walking with her African American boyfriend.3 Characters known from the Vinland sagas have gained iconic status as well. A 1920 statue of Thorfinn Karlsefni by the Icelandic sculptor Einar Jónsson, for example, which is located on Kelly Drive in Philadelphia, has been used as a rallying point for rightwing groups on Leif Erikson Day. Among the groups that have gathered there since 2008 are organisations such as the already mentioned Vinlander’s Social Club, the Keystone State Skinheads, and the now-defunct neo-Nazi organisation Volksfront. In recent years, the site of the statue has developed into a battleground between right-wing groups and counter-protesters from the left, starting with a large Antifa rally in 2013. In 2018, events reached a climax when the more than seven-foot tall statue was beheaded and thrown into the adjacent Schuylkill River eight days before Leif Erikson Day, clearly with the upcoming gatherings of white nationalists at the location in mind.4 This is not the only recent event in which conflicts between white supremacist groups and counter-demonstrators took place around an official memorial marker, specifically a statue. A rally in Charlottesville, Virginia on 12 August 2017, organised to protest the removal of a statue of Confederate General Robert E. Lee, drew the largest gathering of right-wing supporters, white supremacists, and neo-Nazis in the US in decades.5 While a closer look at the photographs that various news agencies published of the protesters at the rally confirms the presence of neo-Confederate supporters with the Confederate flag or the southern nationalist flag,6 also on display was a wide array of symbols, displayed on flags, wooden shields, weapons, and clothing, that stemmed from Norse antiquity. Among these were the ¯oþalan rune, which the US National Socialistic Movement uses as a replacement for the swastika on their flag, and the black sun or Sonnenrad, an Indo-European symbol associated with Nazi occultism and a hate symbol popular among white supremacists in the US, Europe, and Russia.7 Aside from symbols associated with Old Norse culture, visible icons at the rally also included Italian fascist symbols, the blue dragon’s eye of Identity Evropa, and the lambda of the Identitarian movement associated with ancient Spartan warriors. Even the standard of the Holy Roman Empire was carried by protesters, who were styling themselves as modern crusaders fighting for a white and Christian United States.8

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

Vinland and white nationalism

79

Why is medieval culture in general, and Old Norse culture more specifically, so popular with white supremacist groups in the US? And what makes Vinland – after all a short-lived colonial experiment that most likely never even involved any US territory but was restricted to a small area on Canada’s eastern coast – such a productive concept among white supremacist groups? In pursuit of the answers to these questions, the aim of this essay is twofold; it will first introduce readers to one specific white supremacist neo-pagan organisation, the Virginia-based Wolves of Vinland, a small group with a wide following on social media, before providing a brief overview of some of the larger neo-pagan currents in North America. While appearing at first glance to be a quasi-religious movement, I will argue that the Wolves of Vinland are less interested in spirituality than in promoting a lifestyle centred around white supremacy, misogyny, capitalism critique, and radical environmentalism, fuelled by a self-fashioned warrior-aesthetic that selectively borrows from Old Norse culture. ‘Vinland’ here serves as a stand-in for the creation of militant offthe-grid ‘whites only’ tribes on North American ground, whereas the publications, statements, and merchandise put out by Wolves of Vinland members reveal the racist, misogynist, violent, and esoteric character of this group that targets the needs of young men living in non-urban North America. The Wolves of Vinland Based in rural Virginia, with offshoots in Colorado, Oregon, Washington, and Tennessee, the Wolves of Vinland have received considerable attention in US mainstream media, including articles in the Washington Post (which characterised the group as a ‘combination biker gang, weightlifting club and militia’)9 and the New York Times (which saw it as ‘the centre of an “environmentalist component” of the alt-right political movement’).10 Members of the group have also frequently appeared in major alt-right publications and on white supremacist platforms, such as RedIce and Counter-Currents Publishing. The Southern Poverty Law Center, an Alabama-based civil rights advocacy organisation, classifies the Wolves of Vinland as a neo-völkisch11 hate group, noting that it publishes white nationalist and racist statements, uses hate symbols such as the swastika, and is associated with the white nationalist think-tank National Policy Institute or NPI (whose current president is Richard B. Spencer, founder of the blog AlternativeRight.

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

80

Imagination and ideology

com).12 The Wolves of Vinland were co-founded in 2003 by musicians, powerlifters, fighting instructors, and entrepreneurs Matthias and Paul Waggener. Paul Waggener is also the head of Operation Werewolf, a self-described ‘fight club, motorcycle club, and esoteric order’, which offers online workshops on topics ranging from powerlifting to combating alcoholism or depression, to runic esotericism.13 Waggener also designs and sells clothes and e-books on his Werewolf page; publications range in topic from On Magic: A No-Bullshit Primer on Working the Will to books on nutrition and diet.14 The membership of the Wolves of Vinland is rather small – confronted with an estimated number of 300 members in a 2016 interview, Paul Waggener assessed the actual number to be even lower, owing to the organisational structure of the group which he compared to those of motorcycle clubs (where prospective members go through several stages before reaching full membership).15 While targeting a large audience and disseminating publications widely on the internet, the group has found a way to utilise and market its selectivity and tribal structure to gain further appeal as well. Prominent Wolves members and supporters include Youth for Western Civilization founder Kevin DeAnna.16 Another member is ‘manosphere’ author Jack Donovan, leader of the Cascadia chapter of the Wolves of Vinland (covering Washington and Oregon), whose blog entries, podcasts, and Instagram photographs have a wide following.17 Donovan is a frequently booked speaker at alt-right events, and has – to date – published six paperback books: Androphilia, A Sky without Eagles, The Way of Men, Becoming a Barbarian, Blood-Brotherhood (And Other Rites of Male Allegiance), and A More Complete Beast.18 Like Paul Waggener, Donovan distributes clothing and accessories, many of which are adorned with runes or quotations from Eddic poetry, geared at Wolves sympathisers, mixed martial arts (MMA) fighters, and members of the white power scene, through his company Brutal Company LLC.19 On a plot of land in Virginia, a water-fronting parcel along the James River, the Wolves of Vinland have erected an off-the-grid headquarters called Ulfheim (‘wolf home’). This plot of land is hailed by Paul Waggener in an interview in Blue Ridge Outdoor Magazine as a sustainable and creative way of living, intended to counter the perks of modern life, especially capitalism: I see us growing and raising every morsel of our own food; fabricating all our own clothing, vehicles, and homes; having created an effective and efficient barter and trade economy based upon local and

Vinland and white nationalism

81

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

nationwide networks. I see villages of off-grid houses in a number of locations around the country where members and their families live or come stay as they please. I see a group of men and women, thousands strong, living lives based about honor and integrity, lives that are immersed in nature, in spirituality, free and independent of the materialistic hell of capitalism.20

On his blog page, Jack Donovan describes a very different side of Ulfheim, however: ‘an autonomous zone, a community defined by face-to-face and fist-to-face connections where manliness and honor matter again’.21 In strong contrast to the utopian backto-the-land communities outlined by Waggener, what Donovan draws up most resembles a modern-day fantasy of Valhalla: Wolves members meet on the compound, adopt Norse names like Grimnir, Frejulfr, Jarn-nefr or Ref, feast, participate in workshops on runic writing and shamanic drumming techniques, and compete in oneon-one combat.22 Donovan recently launched his own off-the-grid community, Waldgang, in Oregon, named after a 1951 novel by German writer Ernst Jünger, which explored the character of a fiercely independent individual who finds solace and freedom alone in the forest.23 The compound Waldgang (literally ‘forest passage’) attractively resonates with the Wolves’ endorsement of tribalism as a means to escape an over-regulated world. His printed publications reveal that besides his white supremacist and eco-anarchist views and interest in neo-paganism, Donovan’s main focus lies in men’s rights, anti-feminism, and a rejection of what he calls ‘effeminate’ gay culture.24 His first book, Androphilia A Manifesto: Rejecting the Gay Identity, Reclaiming Masculinity, is an exploration of sex and love between masculine men.25 The book is aimed at homosexual men who do not identify with gay culture, and justifies homophobia as necessary to ensure the survival of a male tribe and ultimately to defend masculinity. A more recent book, The Way of Men, outlines how to organise this defence, calling for a re-tribalisation of men with the ultimate goal of resisting attempts by modern society to manipulate and redefine masculinity. According to Donovan, modern men have become ‘spoiled mamma’s boys without father figures, without hunting or fighting or brother-bonds, whose only masculine outlet is promiscuous sex’.26 At blame he sees ‘coalitions of females, pandering politicians and fearful men [who] organize to child-proof our world, to ban guns and regulate violent sports’.27 The only retreats left to men, then, are ‘redoubts of virtual and

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

82

Imagination and ideology

vicarious masculinity’ such as fantasy football and video games.28 The solution, as envisioned by Donovan, lies in his theory of selfmastery, which he claims will enable men to build and thrive in survivalist communities. The Way of Men as a men’s rights manifesto is not openly engaged in racialist thinking or interested in neo-paganism, nor does it touch on Viking Age society as a possible blueprint for the rather crude version of patriarchal tribes that Donovan envisions. The book is, however, framed by quotations from the Eddic poem ‘Sayings of the High One’ (‘Hávamál’), a text popular among neo-pagans, which is often taken to be a moral code of sorts.29 To date, most of Donovan’s interest in Norse and Germanic antiquity is expressed on his online blog and Instagram account, along with one printed article in a 2018 issue of the journal Tyr entitled ‘Starting the sacred world’, which directs readers on how to perform a pagan ritual.30 The compatibility of Donovan’s views and the incorporation of his men’s rights activism into Waggener’s vision for the Wolves of Vinland illustrate sociologist Alex DiBranco’s theory that misogyny serves as the unifying factor for the radical right in the United States.31 As such, it leads to a cross-fertilisation of ideas among members of a variety of movements and initial interests, creating new audiences along the way. The result, a cacophony of misogynist, white supremacist, eco-fascist, and neo-pagan views, confirms Benjamin Wallace-Wells’s assessment of the alt-right in the United States, which he sees not necessarily as movements or organisations but rather as fora or platforms – in his words, ‘collective experiment[s] in identity, in the same way that many people use anonymity on the Internet to test more extreme versions of themselves’.32 When Paul Waggener was asked by Greg Johnson, editor-inchief of the white nationalist Counter-Currents Publishing, if he considered the Wolves of Vinland to be a Nordic neo-pagan group, and therefore a religious movement, Waggener was quick to decline. Instead, he explained that he considered the Wolves to be a tribe with a spiritual outlook: ‘spirituality serves the tribe, rather than the other way around’.33 As the overall goal of the Wolves of Vinland, then, Waggener formulated the development of ‘males and females alongside a classical manifestly Germanic hero aesthetic’.34 Neo-paganism and heathenry in the United States: a brief overview Given Waggener’s modification, how do the Wolves of Vinland relate to other neo-pagan groups in the United States, many of

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

Vinland and white nationalism

83

which reject racism and bigotry? What is the role of race, ethnicity, and gender for members of these groups, platforms, and movements, and where do the Wolves of Vinland fit in with their call for the establishment of off-the-grid whites-only tribes? The term ‘neo-pagan’ is used by practitioners and scholars alike to refer to new religious movements that aim to revive ancient preChristian belief systems.35 While some of these movements aim to reconstruct ancient Celtic, Latvian, or Greek traditions, claim to be survivors of ancient European witch-cults such as Wicca, or aim to revive Druidry, groups focused on Scandinavian or Germanic reconstruction frequently prefer the terms Heathenism or Heathenry for their faith.36 Another commonly used term is Ásatrú (Old Norse-Icelandic for ‘belief in the Æsir’; in the US most often spelled Asatru),37 along with Odinism, the Northern Way or Northern Tradition, and Forn Siðr or Forn Sed (‘the old way/habit’). The number of believers in the United States is small, but growing; a 2013 ‘Worldwide Heathen Census’ listed 7,878 individuals in the United States who identified and self-reported as heathen,38 while Stephen McNallen, founder of the Asatru Folk Assembly, provided the (probably exaggerated) number of 20,000 believers in 2006, among them a large number of prison inmates.39 The lack of a central religious authority or ­programmatic text unifying practitioners and practices of Heathenry in the US has resulted in a large number of groups and movements with vastly different approaches to spirituality, which makes estimates concerning membership size and organisation difficult. Though by now somewhat dated, Mattias Gardell’s book Gods of the Blood remains a standard work on Asatru and religious extremism in the United States. A scholar of comparative religion, Gardell published his work after five years of fieldwork during which he interviewed activists and participated in pagan ceremonies across the country. In Gods of the Blood, he argues that the question and definition of race is the major source of division within the Heathenry movement. While some groups understand race as a matter of biological heredity, and ‘Nordic’ or ‘Germanic heritage’ as genetic facts, others see race as a social construct, based in cultural practices, and a matter separate from religion. Within the US Heathenry movement, this divide is commonly termed as ‘universalist’ vs ‘völkisch’ Asatru. As Gardell points out in his book, however, it makes in fact for three, not just two, currents among US heathens:

84

Imagination and ideology

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

An antiracist position that welcomes any genuinely interested person irrespective of race or ethnicity; a radical racist position that defines Asatrú/Odinism [sic] as an expression of the Aryan race soul and sees it as an exclusively Aryan path; and an ethnic position that, not always successfully, tries to get beyond the issue by claiming that Asatrú is linked with north European ethnicity. The antiracist wing seems to be numerically strongest, although there are no reliable statistics available.40

In her 2016 study Norse Revival, Stefanie von Schnurbein offers a slight modification of Gardell’s framework, likewise distinguishing three main factions within Asatru, which she terms ‘racial religious’, ‘ethnicist’, and ‘a-racist’.41 The latter term is applied to groups elsewhere referred to as ‘anti-racist’ or ‘universalist’, but which are, von Schnurbein argues, in fact not actively working against racial discrimination. Rather, such groups reject race as a category and the conflation of biological heritage and religion, understanding ‘culture’ and ‘religion’ as dynamic phenomena that are created and continually transformed.42 Following von Schnurbein’s terminology, the Wolves of Vinland are a ‘racial religious’ group (defined as a movement ‘that bases religion on a biological concept of race and continues to promote a radical völkisch racial ideology along with ideas of racial and religious purity and purification’).43 The eco-fascist views of its members, along with their focus on neo-tribalism, and the target audience of white men living in mostly rural areas (affected by substance abuse, mental illness, unemployment, and incarceration) strongly resonate with one of the oldest heathen organisations in the US, the so-called Odinist Fellowship. Founded by the Dane Else Christensen in 1969 as a ministry by mail, the group was inspired by the Australian Odinist Alexander Rud Mills, whose pamphlet Call of Our Ancient Nordic Religion became a foundational text.44 The Odinist Fellowship’s 151 published issues of the newsletter The Odinist expose the interests and worldviews espoused by this organisation. Topics range from ruminations on Old Norse texts such as ‘Sayings of the High One’ or The Saga of the Ynglings (Ynglinga saga) to ‘Odinism and Existential Realism’ or ‘Against Capitalism, Against Marxism’. Founder Christensen saw Christianity, Judaism, capitalism, and communism as forces that led to the degeneration of a former ‘Aryan’ high culture.45 She was furthermore a firm believer in an anti-Semitic conspiracy theory, according to which American society was secretly controlled by a large Jewish network, which suppressed any political

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

Vinland and white nationalism

85

movement that could spread racial consciousness among white people.46 Else Christensen began her political career in Denmark, first as an anarchist, then as a member of the national-Bolshevist wing of the Nazi movement. She left Europe after the Second World War, and first moved to Canada, from where she subsequently established contacts with white supremacists in the United States.47 Christensen’s experience of World War II led her to return to her anarchist roots; to her, fascism failed because of its centralised totalitarianism – in Gods of the Blood Gardell quotes her statement that ‘Hitler should have kept to his original, socialist and folkish agenda’.48 To Christensen, it was in the nature of the white ‘Aryan’ man to strive for a decentralised society based on voluntary cooperation. Her political views thus encompassed decentralised folkish communalism, modelled on self-sufficient communes – in effect, neo-tribalism – which she claimed was the ‘natural’ mode of organisation of pre-Christian Germanic society.49 Frequently labelled the ‘Grand Mother of racist Odinism’, Christensen introduced many of the elements later adopted by other pagan groups, among them the Asatru Folk Assembly (see below) and the now defunct Wotansvolk.50 To her, Norse paganism was an expression of the ‘racial soul’ of white, ‘Aryan’ people; with this assumption, she embraced a view of race-specific gods and goddesses, which was inspired by Swiss psychoanalyst C. G. Jung’s theory of archetypes, especially his controversial 1936 essay entitled ‘Wotan’.51 For her outreach activities, Christensen focused on the United States’ large prison population. She lobbied successfully for the state of Florida to recognise Odinism as a legitimate religion, with the effect that inmates could receive literature and educational materials, and she was permitted to hold services and give seminars in prisons. Prisoners also received permission to wear Thor’s hammer pendants, as an expression of their religious (and implicitly racial) identity. According to Gardell, the ritual content at the offered services held by Christensen was rather limited, consisting mostly of seasonal meetings held four times per year, with a sumbel (a ritual drinking ceremony dedicated to the gods and ancestors), and celebrating Adolf Hitler’s birthday on 20 April.52 Reportedly, Christensen was not fond of practitioners dressing up in Vikinginspired gear, experimenting with magic, or seeking encounters with the divine, and embraced a rather bookish, t­heoretical approach to Norse paganism.53

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

86

Imagination and ideology

The declared goal of the Odinist Fellowship was the establishment of small and independent communities of racist heathens, and with that a return to small-town America. In parallel to Paul Waggener’s and Jack Donovan’s calls for the creation of tribes and off-the-grid-communities of men and women, Christensen embraced the same idea decades earlier, fuelled by the same critique of modernity: interwoven in her view is the same back-to-the-land environmentalism and turn away from the materialism, capitalism, and pollution found in America’s cities and suburbs (minus the misogyny). In Christensen’s case, however, her endorsement of a simple agricultural lifestyle is complemented by a strong emphasis on so-called ‘pure’ relationships among people, understood to be both heterosexual and mono-racial.54 To Christensen, then, Odinism served as a religious antidote to the decline of ‘Aryan’ high culture, with religion mostly a means of conveying her radical racial, anti-Semitic critique of modern society, all the while providing a legitimation for a more ‘simple’ lifestyle in the country. With Christensen as ‘Grand Mother of racist Odinism’, this brief overview of the most important currents within the US Heathenry movement would not be complete without including the ‘Founding Father’, or fólk faðir, of Asatru in the United States, Stephen McNallen.55 A former soldier, juvenile corrections officer, and schoolteacher, McNallen first established a group called the Viking Brotherhood in the 1970s, which he subsequently renamed the Asatru Free Assembly. Many of the later leaders and initiators of Asatru groups in the US began their careers as members of this group.56 The Asatru Free Assembly, now known as the Asatru Folk Assembly or AFA, is headquartered in Grass Valley, California. In Gardell’s and von Schnurbein’s framework, the organisation promotes an ethnicist position,57 formulating ‘the preservation of the Ethnic European Folk and their continued evolution’ as its declared goal. Underlying this view is the already mentioned idea of a connection between religion and race, inspired by Jung, and an understanding of religion as an expression of a ‘racial’ collective soul. In this framework, heathen gods and goddesses are understood as race-specific, and as expressions of a genetically transmitted collective unconscious of ‘white people’ – a theory labelled ‘metagenetics’ by McNallen, and further explained in the AFA’s Declaration of Purpose:58 Asatru is an ancestral religion, one passed down to us from our forebears and thus tailored to our unique makeup. Our gods and our

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

Vinland and white nationalism

87

religion have shaped our spirit, individually and as a whole. … All native religions spring from the unique collective soul of a particular race. Religions are not arbitrary or accidental; body, mind and spirit are all shaped by the evolutionary history of the group and are thus interrelated. Asatru is not just what we believe, it is what we are. Therefore, the survival and welfare of the Ethnic European Folk as a cultural and biological group is a religious imperative for the AFA. … we know that our brothers and sisters will all be healthier and happier once they have returned to the religion that expresses their unique cultural and genetic heritage, a heritage that is a part of them as surely as blood and bone.59

In the view expressed here, culture is understood as a matter of genetic inheritance, which explains why only some individuals are prompted to reawaken what is claimed to be an ancestral religious heritage that has been passed on through generations, until the gods decide that the time is ripe for a rebirth of the tradition.60 Furthermore, Asatru as a religion of ethnic Europeans, can – by definition – only be practised by individuals of European, especially Germanic descent. There does seem, however, to be a development of the AFA’s position on the latter aspect, as the group has been expanding its definition of those encompassed by ‘Ethnic European Folk’ from a rather narrowly defined Germanic sphere to individuals with ancestry from ‘Iceland to Russia’.61 Until his retirement in 2016, McNallen served as the spiritual leader or allsherjargodi62 of the AFA, and oversaw the establishment of a temple and community centre in Brownsville, California: ‘a tang­ ible place in Midgard’ named Óðinshof, which opened in 2015 and is crowd-funded.63 Since 2016, Matthew Flavel has acted as the new leader and allsherjargodi of the group, which has been training and ordaining its own clergy, the godar, since 2010. The AFA straddles both the ‘ethnicist’ and ‘racial religious’ categories of heathen groups; there seems to be a development of the group towards the latter and the more open espousal of racist views, however. In 2018, the Southern Poverty Law Center added the AFA as a hate group in its new category ‘Neo-Völkisch’.64 In a video entitled ‘What Stephen McNallen Really Thinks about Race’, published in 2017 on his YouTube channel, McNallen emphasises his ethnocentrist views, rejects accusations of promoting racial supremacy, and ultimately voices the same defensive rhetoric commonly employed by the ‘alt-right’ in the US and identitarian movements in Europe, which see the future of the white race in imminent danger: ‘White people could become ­effectively extinct

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

88

Imagination and ideology

during the next century. Eradicated by a dropping population and intermarriage with other races.’65 Combatting this development in the US and in Europe (which McNallen claims is under special threat) therefore becomes the ultimate goal: ‘Europe will be majority non-white within a couple of decades, unless, as I intend, we can change this situation.’66 There is thus a clear political dimension to the AFA’s philosophy, a call for Asatru as a religious movement to contribute to the preservation of pure-white, hermetically sealed communities in the US and Europe. This characteristic is confirmed by practising Heathen and sociologist Jennifer Snook, who chronicled her attempt to join the AFA in 2011 in her book American Heathens: The Politics of Identity in a Pagan Religious Movement. Snook’s application included the submission of a membership form with questions on her mental health and criminal background, and agreement to the AFA’s Declaration of Purpose. While her membership request was at first accepted and Snook received access to the online discussion board, a PIN, and a membership card, it was soon revoked (after parts of her dissertation were circulated to the AFA’s leadership). In American Heathens, Snook explains that she was asked to explain the meaning behind sentences and phrases copied from my work, to account for my political beliefs and defend my purported ‘liberal agenda’ as part of the ‘academic elite’. I was accused of having ‘multicultural’ leanings, although I never received an explanation of what exactly this meant. … In June, I received an e-mail that, after due consideration, my membership had been terminated and that I was better suited to membership in The Troth.67

As Snook remarks further and with some surprise, her ‘interrogation’ did not include questions about her experiences as a practising heathen, or her knowledge of the ‘Lore’ (the foundational texts of Heathenry). What mattered were her political views, and her ability to defend ‘white privilege’ as a concept, which led her to conclude that the AFA was a political rather than religious ­movement – ‘I was ousted from a political organization with religious overtones’.68 Snook was cognisant that her academic background might be a challenge to the growing anti-intellectualism in this organisation.69 As a young, outspoken, academically trained woman with liberal worldviews, she was an obvious misfit, if not a threat, for the AFA. Until recently, a specific target audience of AFA outreach activities were members of the armed forces. Before a general

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

Vinland and white nationalism

89

makeover in 2018, the AFA homepage boasted a separate section with material for members in the military, including resources for officers and chaplains in charge of heathen soldiers currently in the service.70 Individuals interested in the military or officer training programmes could order instructional material, such as McNallen’s leaflet Asatru Book of Faith: For Those in Harm’s Way, free of charge. This publication contains segments from Eddic poems, an explanation of important Asatru rituals (‘Blot & sumbel’, ‘Creating sacred space’), a chapter on runes, and a calendar of holy days (‘October 8 – Day of Remembrance for Erik the Red’; ‘October 9 – Leif Erikson Day’).71 It is rounded off by small prayers and remarks such as the following, which defines the use of weapons as a religious activity: Carrying gun-steel or blade-steel should be a religious act. Any lethal weapon is such a vital extension of the human will and personality that it partakes of some of the mysteries of life and death, and should therefore be treated with reverence. More than that, arming oneself can be a ritualized deed that brings the weapons-bearer into closer contact with the Gods. In this spirit, the above prayer is offered, to be used when taking up a weapon.72

The leaflet celebrates a warrior ethos geared at a predominantly male audience, and celebrates Norse gods connected to warfare and martial strength, such as Odin, Tyr, and Thor. Female goddesses or Vanir gods are only sparsely mentioned in the leaflet, though short prayers to the goddesses ‘Frigga’, ‘Eir’, ‘Freya’, and ‘Idun’, or ‘to my Valkyrie’, are included in the publication as well. The Asatru movement is, compared with other new religions, characterised by a disproportionately large percentage of male members, though this trend seems to be slowly changing, according to Snook.73 Stefanie von Schnurbein estimates that while the number of female members has been increasing in recent years to one third of the membership of typical (a-racist) Asatru groups worldwide, a large majority remains comprised of men attracted by the ‘cult of the warrior and Viking heroism’ that many Asatru groups promote.74 Socio-economically, von Schnurbein notes that racial-religious group members tend to have a lower economic background than a-racist heathens; a-racist groups seem to attract a larger number of middle-class members with college degrees.75 The largest a-racist organisation in the US is The Troth (formerly called Ring of Troth), founded by Stephen Flowers (alias

90

Imagination and ideology

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

Edred Thorsson)76 and James Chisholm in 1987.77 The Troth is run by a board of three to nine members, the so-called ‘High Rede’, along with an elected steersperson, and publishes a quarterly journal, Idunna. The group understands itself as an umbrella organisation open to all forms of Heathenry, according to its webpage, and aims to educate, train, provide resources for, and otherwise promote the polytheistic religion known as Northern European Heathenry. Our religion contains many variations, names, and practices, including Asatru, Theodism, Urglaawe, Irminism, Odinism, Vanatru, and Anglo-Saxon Heathenry.78

Several clergy of The Troth have sought academic training, among them the already mentioned Flowers, who holds a PhD in Germanic and Medieval Studies, and Karl Seigfried, goði of the Chicago-based Thor’s Oak Kindred, who operates a popular webpage, The Norse Mythology Blog, and holds an MA degree from the University of Chicago Divinity School. The Troth is organised in small groups or ‘kindreds’, which can range in size from family units to larger meetings. Kindreds operate as sovereign entities, as long as one Troth-sponsored public event is held annually and the kindred is not in violation of The Troth’s inclusion statement. This statement obligates members to ‘stand with The Troth against any use of Germanic religion and culture to advance causes of racism, sexism, homophobia, white supremacy, ableism, or any other form of prejudice’.79 Members of groups organised as Troth kindreds (along with altogether 180 organisations from the US and overseas) have signed a document entitled ‘Declaration 127’, stating that they do not discriminate against non-white or LGBTQ individuals, and pledge not to ‘use our traditions to justify prejudice on the basis of race, nationality, orientation, or gender identity’.80 The declaration is published on the blogsite of Huginn’s Heathen Hof, which features contributions by heathens from the US, the Netherlands, Canada, Costa Rica, and Sweden.81 Actions such as the ratification of this document, or the representation of inclusive Heathenry groups in initiatives to challenge hate and religious extremism, during the Parliament of the World’s Religions summit in November 2018, are indicators that the label ‘a-racist’ may not necessarily apply to all members organised within The Troth and comparable groups, as there seems to be a growing number of neo-pagan practitioners who publicly speak out against racism and bigotry.82

Vinland and white nationalism

91

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

Manning Vinland What is it that makes Vinland – and, by extension, medieval Northern European culture – popular among white supremacist groups in the United States? What is the appeal of the Viking Age to those concerned about the changing demographic and social structure of American society, especially to those who seek answers and tools for their radical rejection of pluralism and diversity in new religions? What ‘Vinland’ provides to groups such as the Wolves of Vinland or the AFA is an imaginary territory, a space thought suitable to accommodate dreams of off-the-grid ‘whites only’ tribes on North American ground, countering the fear of racial extinction voiced by many in the alt-right in recent years. Through the appropriation of a European medieval past that is wrongly cast as having been ‘pure’ and ‘white’, and the assumption that Viking culture especially was a hermetically sealed refuge of an ethnically homogenous people,83 this version of Asatru as a reconstructed ‘Ancestral Faith’ of the white race serves to provide the necessary physical and mental purification to overcome the most pressing challenges experienced by white men in the US today. To return once more to the AFA’s Declaration of Purpose, ‘our brothers and sisters will all be happier and healthier once they have returned to the religion that expresses their unique cultural and genetic heritage’.84 Underlying this idea is the principle of ‘metagenetics’: the notion that spirituality or religion is encoded in genetic material, and that Norse religion as the expression of a ‘white racial soul’ is uniquely suited to counter the challenges and insecurities of young white men who feel disillusioned by American society and threatened by capitalism and cultural diversity: mental illness and substance abuse, obesity, unemployment, incarceration, and environmental pollution. To Paul Waggener, Jack Donovan, and their followers on- and offline, ‘Vinland’ furthermore provides a space for the creation of a real-life manosphere. Fuelled by the celebration of a ‘Germanic’ warrior ethos, it seamlessly aligns with the unifying factor for young men attracted to the radical right in the United Sates: the concern for men’s rights and a rejection of feminism, gender equality, and LGBTQ rights. The Wolves of Vinland sell a specific lifestyle centred around white-warrior aesthetics, runic esotericism, weightlifting, and the glorification of a simple, rural existence. It is not devoid of a certain irony, however, that off-the grid communities such as Ulfheim or Waldgang are financed by the video-podcasts,

92

Imagination and ideology

e-books, and rune-adorned merchandise sold online by Donovan and Waggener, and with that by new-media capitalism at its best.

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

Notes  1 Jason Wilson, ‘Suspect in Portland double murder posted white supremacist material online’, Guardian (28 May 2017), www.the guardian.com/us-news/2017/may/27/portland-double-murder-whitesu​premacist-muslim-hate-speech, last accessed 1 December 2018.  2 ‘Vinland Flag’, Anti-Defamation League, www.adl.org/education/ references/hate-symbols/vinland-flag, last accessed 1 December 2018.  3 ‘Vinlander’s Social Club’, Southern Poverty Law Center, www.spl center.org/fighting-hate/extremist-files/group/vinlanders-social-club, last accessed 1 December 2018.  4 ‘Philly Antifa’, Philly Antifa, https://phillyantifa.org/page/5/, last accessed 1 December 2018; Sam Newhouse, ‘Viking statue turned “flashpoint” between skinheads and Antifa toppled into Schuylkill River’, Metro (2 October 2018), www.metro.us/news/local-news/ phil​ade​lphia/viking-statue-antifa-skinheads-flashpoint, last accessed 1 December 2018.  5 Maggie Astor, Christina Caron and Daniel Victor, ‘A guide to the Charlottesville aftermath’, New York Times (13 August 2017), https:// nyti.ms/2vvN4ZQ, last accessed 1 December 2018.  6 A newly introduced flag with a black saltire on white ground, used by neo-Confederalists in the US.  7 ‘Hate on display™ hate symbols database’, Anti-Defamation League, www.adl.org/education-and-resources/resource-knowledge-base/ha​t​e​ -symbols, last accessed 1 December 2018.  8 Josephine Livingstone, ‘Racism, medievalism, and the white supremacists of Charlottesville’, The New Republic (15 August 2017), https:// newrepublic.com/article/144320/racism-medievalism-white-suprema​ cists-charlottesville, last accessed 1 December 2018.  9 David Perry, ‘White supremacists love Vikings. But they’ve got history all wrong’, Washington Post (31 May 2017), www.washingtonpost.com/ posteverything/wp/2017/05/31/white-supremacists-love-vikings-buttheyve-got-history-all-wrong/?utm_term=.289f73638f5d, last ac­cessed 1 December 2018. 10 Christopher Caldwell, ‘What the alt-right really means’, New York Times (2 December 2016), www.nytimes.com/2016/12/02/ opinion/sunday/what-the-alt-right-really-means.html, last accessed 1 ­Decem­ber 2018. 11 This term is derived from the German and Austrian Völkisch ­movement of the early twentieth century, denoting an ethnocentric nationalism that incorporates ideas of shared ancestry, geography, and ­spirituality,

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

Vinland and white nationalism

93

while promoting archaic notions of gender. See ‘Neo-Völkisch’, Southern Poverty Law Center, www.splcenter.org/fighting-hate/ext​re​ mist-files/ideology/neo-volkisch, last accessed 1 December 2018. 12 ‘Neo-Völkisch’, Southern Poverty Law Center. 13 Paul Waggener, ‘What is Operation Werewolf?’, Operation Werewolf, www.operationwerewolf.com, last accessed 1 December 2018. 14 Paul Waggener, ‘Digital’, Operation Werewolf, www.operation​w​e​re​ ​ wolf.com/product-category/propaganda/digital/, last accessed 1 Dec­ em­ber 2018. 15 Greg Johnson, ‘Greg Johnson interviews Paul Waggener’, CounterCurrents Publishing (3 February 2016), http://cdn.counter-currents. com/radio/PaulWaggener.mp3, last accessed 1 December 2018. 16 Youth for Western Civilization is a now defunct right-wing student group active in the United States. 17 Betsy Woodruff, ‘Inside Virginia’s church-burning Werewolf white supremacist cult’, The Daily Beast (11 November 2015), www.thed ailybeast.com/inside-virginias-church-burning-werewolf-white-supr​e​ macist-cult, last accessed 1 December 2018; Jack Donovan, ‘About’, Jack Donovan, www.jack-donovan.com/axis, last accessed 1 December 2018; and Jack Donovan, ‘Starttheworld’, Instagram, www.instagram. com/starttheworld/, last accessed 1 December 2018. Manosphere is the collective term used for the hundreds of websites, forums, and blogs dedicated to male supremacy and men’s rights (which see feminism and gender equality as a violation of nature). 18 Jack Donovan, ‘Books’, Jack Donovan, www.jack-donovan.com/ axis/#books, last accessed 1 December 2018. 19 ‘Brutal Co collections: more’, Brutal Co, https://brutalco.myshopify. com/collections/more?page=1, last accessed 1 December 2018. 20 Eric Wallace, ‘ECO PUNKS: the Wolves of Vinland badasses dare you to re-wild yourself’, Blue Ridge Outdoors Magazine (5 May 2015), https://web.archive.org/web/20151119022642/http://www.blueridg​e​ outdoors.com/go-outside/eco-punks-the-wolves-of-vinland-bada​ss​es​ -da​re-you-to-re-wild-yourself/, last accessed 1 December 2018. 21 Jack Donovan, ‘A time for wolves’, Jack Donovan (June 2014), www. jack-donovan.com/axis/2014/06/a-time-for-wolves/, last accessed 1 December 2018. 22 Donovan, ‘A time for wolves’. 23 Jack Donovan, ‘Waldgang’, Jack Donovan (May 2017), www.jackdonovan.com/axis/2017/05/waldgang/, last accessed 1 December 2018. 24 Donovan rejects the label ‘white supremacist’, citing animosity and proneness to conspiracy theories among American white supremacists as the reason. At the same time, he is quick to declare his admiration for alt-right leader Richard B. Spencer, Greg Johnson of CounterCurrents, and Jared Taylor, former NPI director and now editor of the white supremacist online magazine American Renaissance. See Jack

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

94

Imagination and ideology

Donovan, ‘Why I am not a white nationalist’, Jack Donovan (May 2017), www.jack-donovan.com/axis/2017/05/why-i-am-not-a-whitenationalist/, last accessed 1 December 2018. 25 Jack Donovan, Androphilia, A Manifesto: Rejecting the Gay Identity, Reclaiming Masculinity (Baltimore: Scapegoat Publishing, 2007). 26 Jack Donovan, The Way of Men (Milwaukie: Dissonant Hum, 2012), p. 118. 27 Donovan, The Way of Men, p. 120. 28 Donovan, The Way of Men, p. 120. 29 Sections of ‘The Sayings of the High One’ have been adapted into an ethical code, formalised into nine central rules or values reminiscent of the Judeo-Christian tradition of the Ten Commandments, the so-called ‘nine noble virtues’. Frequently, these virtues are listed as ‘courage, honor, truth, fidelity, self-discipline, hospitality, industriousness, perseverance, and self-reliance’, though they vary slightly between heathen groups: Jennifer Snook, American Heathens: The Politics of Identity in a Pagan Religious Movement (Philadelphia: Temple University Press, 2015), p. 71. The ‘original’ ‘nine noble virtues’, which were created in the 1970s, can be found on the Odinic Rite website: ‘The nine noble virtues and charges of the Odinic Rite’, Odinic Rite, www.odinic-rite.org/main/the-nine-noble-virtues-andcharges-of-the-odinic-rite/, last accessed 21 February 2019. 30 Jack Donovan, ‘Starting the sacred world’, Tyr, 5 (2018), 35−43. 31 Alex DiBranco, ‘Mobilizing misogyny’, Public Eye (Winter 2017), 11–23 (11), www.politicalresearch.org/wp-content/uploads/2017/03/ PE_Winter2017_DiBranco.pdf, last accessed 1 December 2018; and ‘A chorus of violence: Jack Donovan and the organizing power of male supremacy’, Southern Poverty Law Center (27 March 2017), www.splcenter.org/hatewatch/2017/03/27/chorus-violence-jackdo​n​ovan-and-organizing-power-male-supremacy, last accessed 1 December 2018. 32 Benjamin Wallace-Wells, ‘Is the alt-right for real?’, The New Yorker (5 May 2016), www.newyorker.com/news/benjamin-wallace-wells/isthe-alt-right-for-real, last accessed 1 December 2018. 33 Johnson, ‘Greg Johnson interviews Paul Waggener’ (quoted segment at 2:50). 34 Johnson, ‘Greg Johnson interviews Paul Waggener’ (quoted segment at 5:24). 35 Manon Hedenborg-White, ‘Contemporary paganism’, in James R. Lewis and Jesper Aa. Petersen (eds), Controversial New Religions (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2014), pp. 315−30 (316). 36 ‘Pagan’ is derived from the Latin paganus and is thus an outside description of non-Christians. ‘Heathen’ is a term with a Germanic root (Old Norse heiðinn, Old High German heidan from Proto-Germanic *xaiþiz, ‘living on the heath, uncivilised’), which was used by early

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

Vinland and white nationalism

95

Christian writers for the faith of their ancestors. See Vladimir Orel, A Handbook of Germanic Etymology (Leiden and Boston: Brill, 2003), p. 154. For the problematic nature of the term ‘neo-pagan’, which falsely assumes ‘the existence of an ancient, original Paganism’, see Stefanie von Schnurbein, Norse Revival: Transformations of Germanic Neopaganism (Leiden and Boston: Brill, 2016), p. 11. Because the term is frequently applied by scholars (among them von Schnurbein herself) and practitioners themselves, it will also be used in this essay. 37 The term Ásatrú does not refer to one specific group in the US (it does so elsewhere, for instance in Iceland), yet it is frequently used as an umbrella term by heathens to describe their faith, for instance in petitions to the federal government and military to be recognised as a religious group. In 2013, the Department of Veterans Affairs responded to such a petition by Asatruar in the United States and approved Mjöllnir (Thor’s hammer) as an emblem of belief available for government grave markers. See ‘Available emblems of belief for placement on government headstones and markers’ (last updated 12 June 2018), U.S. Department of Veterans Affairs, www.cem.va.gov/ hmm/emblems.asp, last accessed 1 December 2018. 38 Karl Seigfried, ‘Worldwide Heathen Census 2013: results & analysis’, The Norse Mythology Blog (6 January 2014), www. norsemyth.org/2014/01/worldwide-heathen-census-2013-results. ht​ml, last acc­essed 1 December 2018. In the census, the following were subsumed under the umbrella term ‘Heathen’: Anglo-Saxon Heathenry, Ásatrú, Asatro, Firne Sitte, Forn Sed, Forn Siðr, Germanic Heathenry, Germanic Neopaganism, Germanic Paganism, Heathenism, Heathenry, Norse Paganism, Norse Religion, Northern Tradition, Odinism, Old Way, Theodism, Urglaawe, Vanatru. 39 ‘Viking mythology grows as religion for inmates’, Fox News (24 July 2006, updated 13 January 2015), www.foxnews.com/story/2006/07/24/ viking-mythology-grows-as-religion-for-inmates.html, last accessed 1 December 2018. 40 Mattias Gardell, Gods of the Blood: The Pagan Revival and White Separatism (Durham: Duke University Press, 2003), p. 153. 41 Von Schnurbein, Norse Revival, pp. 6−7. 42 Von Schnurbein, Norse Revival, p. 7. 43 Von Schnurbein, Norse Revival, p. 6. 44 Gardell, Gods of the Blood, p. 167. 45 ‘The Odinist’, The Odinist Fellowship, http://odinistfellowship. com/?page_id=17, last accessed 1 December 2018. 46 Gardell, Gods of the Blood, p. 171. White supremacist groups in the United States express this view to this day, referring to it under the acronym ZOG (‘Zionist Occupied Government’); it was voiced by the Charlottesville demonstrators in August 2017, who were captured on screen shouting ‘Jews will not replace us’ along with ‘blood and

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

96

Imagination and ideology

soil’. See: Yair Rosenberg, ‘“Jews will not replace us”: why white supremacists go after Jews’, Washington Post (14 August 2017), www. washingtonpost.com/news/acts-of-faith/wp/2017/08/14/jews-will-no​ t ​ - replace-us-why-white-supremacists-go-after-jews/?utm_term=. d8​b8ed378a1f, last accessed 1 December 2018; and ‘ZOG’, AntiDefamation League, www.adl.org/education/references/hate-symbols/ zog, last accessed 1 December 2018. 47 Gardell, Gods of the Blood, pp. 165−72. 48 Quoted in Gardell, Gods of the Blood, p. 172. 49 Gardell, Gods of the Blood, pp. 172−3 and 175. 50 Gardell, Gods of the Blood, p. 190ff. 51 Carl Gustav Jung, Civilization in Transition, ed. Gerhard Adler and R. F. C. Hull, Collected Works 10 (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1970), pp. 371−99. Jung has been accused of sympathy for the NS movement; Jung emphasised in later statements and interviews that he was not an anti-Semite, and had always had friendly relations with Jewish patients and colleagues. According to his secretary Aniela Jaffé, Jung may have supported German-Jewish psychologists in their effort to escape Nazi Germany. For a discussion of ‘Wotan’, and its effects on new religious movements, see Carrie Dohe’s study on Jung’s wandering archetype, especially chapter 8, which focuses on the reception of analytical psychology in contemporary Heathenism: Carrie B. Dohe, Jung’s Wandering Archetype: Race and Religion in Analytical Psychology (London and New York: Routledge, 2016), pp. 210−40. In her analysis of ‘Wotan’, Dohe argues that Jung saw National Socialism as an individualisation process en masse, and as a collective spiritual rebirth of what he called a ‘Wotanic archetype’ intrinsic to Germanic peoples. In Jung’s framework, archetypes are understood to be psychological counterparts to biological instincts, and the Wotanic archetype would encompass a particularly Germanic instinct, or ‘very essence of Germanism’: Dohe, Jung’s Wandering Archetype, p. 13. 52 Gardell, Gods of the Blood, p. 176. 53 Gardell, Gods of the Blood, p. 176. 54 Gardell, Gods of the Blood, p. 174. 55 ‘Word fame – Stephen A. McNallen’, The Odinist Fellowship, http:// odinistfellowship.com/?page_id=127, last accessed 1 December 2018. 56 Von Schnurbein, Norse Revival, p. 58. 57 Despite the (at times) openly ethno-nationalist views promoted by the AFA, some on the far right accused McNallen of being a ‘race traitor’ for expelling extreme racists and neo-Nazis from the organisation. In 1987, he disbanded the AFA for this reason, yet decided to re-establish it in 1994; McNallen also continued to publish the group’s newsletter, The Runestone (nowadays online), and contributes to the increasingly active online presence of the AFA.

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

Vinland and white nationalism

97

58 Jeffrey Kaplan, Radical Religion in America: From the Far Right to the Children of Noah, Religion and Politics 1 (Syracuse: Syracuse University Press, 1997), p. 80. 59 ‘Asatru Folk Assembly – declaration of purpose’, Asatru Folk Assembly, www.runestone.org/declaration-of-purpose/, last accessed 1 December 2018. 60 Kaplan, Radical Religion, p. 80. 61 ‘Asatru Folk Assembly – welcome home’, Asatru Folk Assembly, www. runestone.org, last accessed 1 December 2018. 62 At times also spelled ‘Alsherjargothi’ by AFA members. In Old Icelandic tradition, the allsherjargoði served in an elevated position along with the other goðar at the annual Althing assembly; among his tasks were the sanctification and the corralling of the thing areas. 63 ‘Asatru Folk Assembly – announcing the Óðinshof pay off the Hof fundraiser’, Asatru Folk Assembly, www.runestone.org/announcingf the-odinshof-pay-off-the-hof-fundraiser/, last accessed 1 December 2018. 64 ‘Neo-Völkisch’, Southern Poverty Law Center. 65 Stephen McNallen, ‘What Stephen McNallen really thinks about race’, YouTube (3 March 2017), www.youtube.com/watch?v=ewUuNO636ag, last accessed 1 December 2018 (quoted segment at 7:40). 66 McNallen, ‘What Stephen McNallen really thinks about race’ (quoted segment at 6:55). 67 Snook, American Heathens, p. 16. For more information on The Troth, see footnotes 78–9. 68 Snook, American Heathens, p. 16. 69 Snook, American Heathens, p. 16. 70 ‘Asatru Folk Assembly – welcome home’. 71 Stephen McNallen, Asatru Book of Faith: For Those in Harm’s Way (Nevada City: Asatru Folk Assembly, 2010), p. 59. 72 McNallen, Asatru Book of Faith, p. 15. 73 Snook, American Heathens, p. 24. 74 Von Schnurbein, Norse Revival, p. 89. 75 Her estimates here refer to Germany and Scandinavia; see von Schnurbein, Norse Revival, p. 88. 76 Stephen E. Flowers has authored both academic publications, for instance Runes and Magic: Magical Formulaic Elements in the Older Runic Tradition (Bastrop: Lodestar, 2014), initially submitted as a PhD thesis in 1984 at the University of Texas, and numerous self-published works on Asatru and runic magic. Both Flowers and Chisholm left The Troth in the 1990s after being accused of Satanism. See Kaplan, Radical Religion, p. 26. 77 Von Schnurbein, Norse Revival, p. 72. 78 ‘The Troth’, The Troth, www.thetroth.org, last accessed 1 December 2018.

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

98

Imagination and ideology

79 ‘Troth kindred program’, The Troth, www.thetroth.org/programsoffered/troth-kindred-program.html, last accessed 1 December 2018. 80 ‘Declaration 127’, Huginn’s Heathen Hof, www.declaration127.com, last accessed 1 December 2018. 81 ‘Huginn’s Heathen Hof’, Huginn’s Heathen Hof, www.heathenhof. com, last accessed 1 December 2018. 82 Sean McShee, ‘Pagan presence at the parliament of the world’s religions’, The Wild Hunt (14 November 2018), https://wildhunt.org/? s=Parliament+of+the+World’s+Religions, last accessed 1 December 2018; ‘Heathens against hate’, Heathens Against Hate, www.heathen sagainst.org, last accessed 1 December 2018. 83 Perry, ‘White supremacists love Vikings’. For a discussion of questions of ancestry and genetic diversity among Northern Europeans, and a fascinating account of the prehistory of Scandinavia and the role of ancient DNA research in this context, see Karin Bojs, My European Family: The First 54,000 Years (London: Bloomsbury, 2017). 84 ‘Asatru Folk Assembly – declaration of purpose’.

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

Part II Landscapes and cultural memory

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

6 Migration of a North Atlantic seascape: Leif Eiriksson, the 1893 World’s Fair, and the Great Lakes landnám Amy C. Mulligan

On 12 July 1893, attendance at the Columbian Exposition, the great Chicago World’s Fair, reached 135,000 people – about double the number from the day before. People had been following the progress of an unusual boat for some time, and they wanted to be there to see its historic landing. By 5.00 p.m., more than 50,000 spectators were gathered together on Chicago’s lakeshore, waving flags and cheering as choirs and bands struck up. They were all excitedly waiting to be the first to set eyes on the Viking ship – s­ eventy-six feet long, dragon-headed prow, striped sails up, medieval shields decorating the gunwales – as it sailed into Jackson Park, where the Fair’s famed ‘White City’ had been built (see figure 6.1). Everyone who was anyone was there to welcome them – one of America’s greatest orators and abolitionists, the former slave Frederick Douglass, even took the stage with the ship’s crew.1 For those who could not be present, the media had it covered: the ship, named Viking, had been garnering headlines for a while now, but the next morning it filled the entire front page of the Chicago Tribune.2 Docked in pride of place at the entrance to the Fair, the ship attracted a great number of the Fair’s twenty-seven million visitors, some of them getting to sail on it and immerse themselves in the other Norse experiences provided for them as part of the Fair. This voyage, a performance, and a landnám, to use the Norse term for ‘land-taking’ or ‘settlement’, seized an already-primed American imagination. As argued in this essay, the voyage of the ship Viking to Chicago, and events surrounding it, changed the ways Americans conceived of their past – North America could now also be spoken of as Norse America. And accounts of medieval Norse exploration of Vinland by Leif Eiriksson were a persuasive and strategically retold ­narrative – scholarly and popular – that helped Scandinavian i­mmigrants assimilate as American. Additionally, performances like that of the ship Viking worked to migrate the North Atlantic voyage and the

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

102

Landscapes and cultural memory

Figure 6.1  The ship Viking at the Columbian World’s Fair, Chicago, 1893

Vinland landscape to the Great Lakes and onto the urban ‘­ frontier’ landscape of Chicago. A group of savvy ‘place-makers’ and the spatialising events associated with the 1893 World’s Fair, that is, mapped the Viking past and Vinland topography onto Lake Michigan. Through place-naming practices and immersive performances in new landscapes, powerful identity narratives were posed, enacted, contested, and embraced (though also rejected) by different ethnic communities as they worked to establish a past, but also a future, in America. The words of anthropologist Keith Basso, author of the brilliant study of the fusion of narrative to place entitled Wisdom Sits in Places: Landscape and Language among the Western Apache, provide a productive frame for understanding the processes whereby stories from a medieval, and heavily imagined, Viking past were influentially enacted on Midwestern American soil in the late nineteenth century. As Basso has explained, successful ‘instances of placemaking consist in an adventitious fleshing out of historical material that culminates in a posited state of affairs, a particular universe of objects and events – in short, a place-world – wherein portions of the past are brought into being’.3 In this kind of ‘historical theatre’ the ‘“pastness” of the past is summarily stripped away and longelapsed events are made to unfold as if before one’s eyes’.4 The main named place-makers of this story are the crew of the ship Viking, Chicago mayor Carter Henry Harrison, World’s

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

Leif Eiriksson and the 1893 World’s Fair

103

Fair president Potter Palmer, University of Wisconsin professor Rasmus B. Anderson, and the artists who designed Leif Eiriksson statues and a boat-like stave church for Chicago. Through these figures, I track how the varied place-making events they were involved in allowed them to conjure and ‘to speak the past into being, to summon it with words and give it dramatic form, to produce experience by forging ancestral worlds in which others can participate and readily lose themselves’.5 These were highly influential performances through which medieval Norse narratives were transplanted to the American Midwest and captured the attention of extensive audiences. By initially losing themselves in these staged spectacles and performances in and around Chicago, participants, I argue, ultimately emerged having found themselves in possession of new origin myths, rich in ‘images of the past that can deepen and enlarge awareness of the present’.6 A dragon ship on Lake Michigan The intention behind sailing a reconstructed Viking ship to Chicago was to show that the Norse navigators could have made it to America five centuries before Columbus. As described in the medieval Eirik the Red’s Saga (Eiríks saga rauða) and The Saga of the Greenlanders (Grænlendinga saga), voyages from Iceland to Greenland, across the Atlantic to North America, were undertaken by Eirik the Red and his descendants, most notably his son Leif.7 Though the voyages are dated to around the year 1000, the time of Iceland’s conversion to Christianity, the sagas themselves were probably composed in the second half of the thirteenth century, when saga-writing was heavily involved in reimagining the past, and they are only preserved in manuscripts dating from the fourteenth century onwards. It is frequently forgotten or overlooked that the original saga composers who provide us with information about the Vinland voyages were themselves recreating a past, often with distinct agendas, and we must remember that the Vinland sagas, while almost certainly based on historical Viking voyages to North America, are at the same time highly constructed narratives. And we see how depictions of the Vikings in North America are further reshaped as different placemakers take up the story and mould it to their own needs. These Old Norse-Icelandic accounts were being newly translated, reworked, and circulated for keen audiences in North America, audiences composed variously of Nordic immigrants, WASP (White Anglo-Saxon Protestant) East Coast elites, and

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

104

Landscapes and cultural memory

several others.8 In this essay I explore the American Midwest in particular. While books and translations were most influential in getting the story of Viking America out – figures like the popular Norwegian-American scholar Anderson were doing much to promote the stories of Leif Eiriksson and a Nordic America that went back to the Middle Ages – performances, staged spectacles, and audience experiences of staged recreations of medieval events, spaces, and voyages cemented the migration of the Viking landnám onto Lake Michigan. The story begins in 1880, when a ninth-century Viking ship was uncovered in a burial mound in Gokstad, in Vestfold, Norway, drawing international attention to itself and to the accounts of medieval Viking travels. When the Directors of the Chicago Columbian Exposition, the World’s Fair which was to commemorate Columbus’s voyage to the Americas, asked the Norwegian government to lend the ship as an exhibit for the Fair, they were told no – this was too great a national treasure. (The exposition organisers also asked the Danish government to lend Flateyjarbók, the fourteenth-century Icelandic manuscript containing both of the Vinland sagas, but that request was turned down as well.)9 However, Captain Magnus Andersen, a Norwegian-born sailor and newspaperman, intervened to make the most of this opportunity to showcase Nordic sailing prowess and the claim that Vikings could have sailed to the Americas some 500 years before Columbus. To prove the seaworthiness of a Viking boat, Captain Andersen spearheaded construction of a replica of the Gokstad ship – this was funded by private Norwegian donations (even schoolchildren gave their pennies). Captain Andersen would sail this ship, originally named Leif Ericsson but rechristened Viking, with his crew from Norway to Chicago.10 On 30 April 1893, the dragon-prowed wooden ship set sail from Bergen: the voyage of Viking was underway. Viking featured no modern equipment – this was an open, medieval boat, equipped only as it would have been in medieval times, with the crew sleeping on deck tucked in reindeer skins, to prove that the Vikings, in a typical Viking ship, could have accomplished that Atlantic crossing. They almost did not make it to Chicago, however. The vessel itself was eminently seaworthy, and had few problems on the open waters of the Atlantic – it made the crossing in twenty-six days. It was actually in the streets of Brooklyn where the voyage was just about sunk. When Viking arrived in New York, the voyagers were invited to a banquet held

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

Leif Eiriksson and the 1893 World’s Fair

105

in their honour. Returning from the celebrations, near Hamilton Avenue, which had many Italian and Irish Catholic gangs, the Viking crew was mobbed and attacked by a ‘party of roughs’, an angry Italian-American mob who believed the sailors were trying to discredit Christopher Columbus. And though the Viking crew were the victims, the Brooklyn police officers – Irish-Catholic, Captain Andersen records in his memoirs of the voyage – framed them.11 As a New York Times article later records, ‘There was a rough-and-tumble scuffle for a few minutes and then several policemen hastened up and, after clubbing Capt. Andersen on the shoulder let the roughs go and arrested the sailors.’12 These latterday Protestant ‘Vikings’ were arrested for drunken and disorderly conduct and thrown in jail: ‘Vikingar i finkan’ (‘Vikings in the slammer’), as one Swedish-American newspaper memorably put it.13 It was only when the mayor and other politicians intervened that the crew of Viking was released and allowed to continue its journey onwards to Chicago. Though the reality was complex, according to both contemporary responses and later reflections the conflict came down along religious lines: ‘Catholics for Columbus and Protestants for Eriksson’.14 As both groups knew, America’s origin myths were at stake. And whoever controlled the performance of that iconic voyage of arrival in America also controlled a powerful means for immigrants to be assimilated and recognised as co-founders of a nation they now called home. This is a conflict that would continue to play out over successive decades – Italian-American and Catholic factions campaigned for national holidays celebrating Christopher Columbus, while Scandinavian-American and typically Protestant groups lobbied for Leif Eiriksson. A littleknown place name marker of this conflict illustrates the power of mapping and identity narratives. When Chicago’s famous outer thoroughfare, known today as Lake Shore Drive, was opened on 11 September 1927, it was named ‘Leif Ericson Drive’, with substantial Scandinavian-American crowds – the Chicago Tribune reports ‘massed thousands’ – there to celebrate this place name victory.15 There is little evidence describing the process by which it was given the name, which remained until 1946. But the route follows the visible lakeshore from 23rd Street down to Jackson Park, the site of the Columbian Exposition, and would seem in part to commemorate the 1893 voyage of the Viking ship along Chicago’s lakeshore. This is further suggested by the fact that, as part of the Leif Ericson Drive opening celebrations in 1927, Captain Magnus

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

106

Landscapes and cultural memory

Andersen was brought back to Chicago and at the helm of Viking led a naval parade along the lakeshore, thus repeating the famed voyage and lakeshore landnám of 1893.16 And as before, Catholic and Italian-American groups responded, so that soon after, in 1928, another major highway that intersected Leif Ericson Drive was named Columbus Drive. In one of America’s most vibrant and dynamically designed urban centres, identity narratives routinely butted up against each other, with Viking and Columbian place names recoding Chicagoan lakeside spaces. Returning to 1893 and its first voyage on the Great Lakes, after its delay in New York the ship Viking resumed its journey from the city. With more celebration than antagonism,17 it travelled through the Erie Canal and into Lake Michigan, via Racine, Wisconsin. There, 15,000 people turned out to celebrate the arrival of ‘the modern Vikings to Racine’, as the mayor of Racine put it.18 The following day Viking sailed to Evanston, just north of Chicago, where, the Chicago Tribune records, a massive ‘flotilla of pleasure yachts and excursion steamers’, with Chicago mayor Carter Harrison on one of them, greeted Viking: ‘there was a mighty roar of salutes. Flags were dipped and the Norsemen brought their boat alongside the Ivanhoe’.19 A Kentucky native educated at Yale and a former US Congressman, Harrison was drawn to Chicago by the opportunities the rapidly growing city offered. Because of his pluralistic embrace of all ethnic and religious groups, and despite being a member of America’s long-established WASP elite, this savvy politician was beloved of Chicagoans. As the Tribune reported, ‘Once when appealing to his fellow-citizens from the north of Europe for their votes he laid claim to the possession of a long Scandinavian pedigree’; Harrison similarly professed to be a Son of Erin, to have German blood, and to be kin to pretty much every other Chicagoan ethnic group that had a vote.20 I note this not as a criticism, nor was it responded to as such – in a city of immigrants, and a time of diaspora but also reinvention, identity was very much performance and deed, a chosen set of alliances and selection of narratives. Identity was not determined simply by place of birth, official citizenship, geography, or bloodline – this, too, is why those in America who identified as Norwegian and Swedish could claim Leif Eiriksson, who settled in Greenland, and whose parents were born in Norway and Iceland, as their Norse ancestor, with few qualms. Mayor Harrison understood the power and malleability of identity performance, and exemplified the Chicagoan embrace

Leif Eiriksson and the 1893 World’s Fair

107

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

of verbal bluster, re-enactment, spectacle, and transformative mythmaking. So when the ship Viking sailed into Chicago, as the Tribune records, of course Mayor Harrison ‘found a seat on the Captain’s stand in the stern, where he later picked up one of the war shields and brandishing it aloft roared out orders in Norwegian to the sailors, Capt. Andersen putting the words into his mouth’ (see figure 6.2).21 Mayor Harrison, quipping that he was, of course, the

Figure 6.2  Mayor Carter Harrison ‘captures the ship’ Viking

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

108

Landscapes and cultural memory

‘Viking of Chicago’, was made ­commander of the ship and sailed it from there. This Viking landnám in the Great Lakes, and a new and bold Chicago settlement myth, had become officially endorsed. As they all voyaged south towards the site of the Fair, ‘the dragon ship in the place of honor’,22 the pageantry, spectacle, and number of boats increased – envision US naval warships, massive cutters, and sloops, and ‘behind each of the warships steamed a dozen steamers, every deck crowded with men and women and floating brilliant flags’, with little tugs, sail boats, and even canoes in their wake.23 US congressmen, governmental leaders, political figures, the President of the Chicago Board of Trade, the city’s aldermen and city officials, plus several ‘distinguished guests’, university presidents, and intellectuals, not to mention the legion Norse societies,24 chartered yachts, steamers, and other boats to participate in this most celebrated of Chicago lakeshore voyages. Viking place-making at the World’s Fair The voyagers finally came ashore where Fair president, businessman Potter Palmer, gave the official speech of welcome, one which made clear the impact that Viking’s landnám exercised on America’s collective consciousness. Of greatest significance is how Palmer maps the Viking story onto the American landscape, his words leading his audience to visualise a Norse America: The National Commission of the World’s Columbian Exposition represents 65,000,000 of people, and those 65,000,000 of people, through me, say to you that they have watched your trip with interest; they watched you and were delighted when you had crossed the ocean, have watched you as you came through our rivers, through our interior lakes, which might be called the Baltic of America, up to the White City.25

Palmer acknowledges the replicas of Columbus’s ships but emphasises that they ‘need not detract from the glory of Norway, which 500 years before had discovered America, but humanity was not yet ready for its settlement’.26 He then moves on to evoke characteristics of the Norse landscape that resonate strongly with those of America. As he declares, ‘Every school boy knows the peculiar characteristics of Norway and the Viking – their ragged shores and fiords, the long winters and delightful summers, the maelstrom’.27 Standing at Lake Michigan’s ‘ragged shores’ on one such long summer evening (and one following a particularly brutal winter),

Leif Eiriksson and the 1893 World’s Fair

109

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

with a Viking ship floating behind him in this Midwestern ‘fjord’, we witness an expert act of place-making, to use Basso’s term, of fusing narrative to landscape and past to present. Having set the appropriate spatial stage, and delineated the features of this collective place-world, Palmer further develops this fusion by delineating other defining characteristics shared by the Norse and Americans, those of democracy and freedom, law and liberty: every man who has read history knows of those Vikings who started out at the time when Europe was held by a strong arm and not by right, and who carried with them those traits which have led to the development of the present day. [Applause.] So that, although Spain had the glory of opening this continent to mankind, Norsemen had the glory of giving the jurisprudence to America.28

And following a comparison with Rome, which conquered provinces, Palmer remarks that ‘it [Rome] took away their liberty but gave them law. The Norsemen did not take away liberty but ha[ve] given law, and that law today is in force throughout America. [Applause.]’.29 Captain Magnus Andersen, in his brief response, also drove home the links between the Vikings of the past and Americans of the nineteenth-century present. He declared that the ship ‘is sent by the citizens of Norway’ – sailing Viking was also part of a Norwegian nationalist movement that ultimately culminated in Norway’s independence from Sweden – yet Andersen also notes that ‘the Norsemen are considered as composed of Norwegians, Swedes, and Danes’.30 He continues: ‘I am proud of being in a country where civilization is at its greatest height, and I am also proud that I have the feeling that it was the Viking blood in the old Anglo-Saxon race that has made this country what it is. [Applause].’31 As one might expect, Lake Michigan became a kind of naval battle site. Viking was pitched against the replicas of Columbus’s fleet, which, the newspapers tell us, had to be towed from Spain, while Viking sailed independently. The Tribune reported that Viking drew a much bigger and far more exuberant crowd of supporters than Columbus’s caravels.32 We can also read about the boat races in which Viking beat its varied competitors. Enduring, good-natured competitiveness developed, but a lot was at stake, as America’s different immigrant communities were well aware. They all knew that this might become the most important landnám – namely, settlement – in the American imagination. While it was the ship Viking that attracted the most attention, development of the narrative regarding the voyage to America by

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

110

Landscapes and cultural memory

bold Vikings was delivered through multiple spaces and artefacts on display at the Fair. In the Art Pavilion one could view Christian Krohg’s dramatic painting – his largest ever at 313 × 470 cm – of a heroic Leif Eiriksson at the rudder of a Viking ship as it charges through rough seas, the crew dramatically rushing up to look at the sunlit coast of the new land Leif has just sighted. After winning a Norwegian competition, Krohg painted Leiv Erikson Discovers America for the Fair, and its display in Chicago was orchestrated to coincide with the successful voyage of Viking from Norway to the Fair’s lakefront Jackson Park.33 Indeed, many of the Fair programmes identified the ship Viking as the exact replica of the one that Leif had sailed ‘from Norway’ and that was depicted in Krohg’s painting, and much literature associated with the Fair continues to repeat these identifications. In this way, the arrival of the Norwegian-built ship Viking became the arrival of Leif Eiriksson’s ship in Chicago. And anyone who had missed Viking’s voyage, or wanted to relive the experience, could witness it in Krohg’s larger-than-life oil painting. On the fairgrounds one could furthermore visit a medieval Norwegian stave church (see figure 6.3), also featured, like the ship Viking and Krohg’s painting, in Bancroft’s Book of the Fair, the contemporary Fair Guide (and source for all those who wanted to experience the Fair’s wonders off-site). The Book of the Fair described the Stavkirke as ‘a cross-gabled edifice, with peaks ornamented, as in the days of Leif Erikson, with the prows of Viking ships’.34 Another guide explains further that this similarity was of course intentional, for its creators, the Norse, were ‘the boldest navigators in the world. Their high-penned galleys, with hideous figureheads, ventured where no others dared to go. Those were the days of the Vikings. So the Norsemen, being more at home in ships than in houses, patterned even their houses of worship after their ships.’35 This stave church remained a part of the Midwestern landscape after the Fair: purchased by a Norwegian-American businessman, it was re-erected on his waterfront estate at Lake Geneva, Wisconsin (subsequently purchased by William Wrigley, Jr) and later moved to the ‘Little Norway’ museum campus in Wisconsin, though as of 2017 it had returned to Norway.36 On American soil, one could thus inhabit medieval Norse spaces, but the remapping of medieval Norse experiences on an American landscape at the turn of the century also looked to the future. Just as Americans had worked their way across the frontier, the displays at the World’s Fair emphasised how the Norse too had moved across

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

Leif Eiriksson and the 1893 World’s Fair

111

Figure 6.3  The stave church on the fairgrounds at the 1893 World’s Columbian Exposition

the oceanic frontier. This primed a reading of Norse-Americans, those of Scandinavian descent, as founding figures – seafaring, brave, migratory people, bold travellers – who modelled the virtues of a newly developing American sense of identity. As the millions of fairgoers and their letters about enchanting experiences in Chicago record, performance, facade, and illusion became real in the White City, with visitors embracing suspension of disbelief to allow the magic of the Fair and its spectacles to delight them. Here, the landing of a medieval Norse boat in Chicago could take on the gravity of the real. In comparison with North American sites elsewhere, where ‘proof’ of Viking settlement was frequently uncovered in the form of Viking swords, runestones, even Norse-descended blonde-haired, blue-eyed Native Americans, Chicagoans showed no interest in arguing that Leif Eiriksson had navigated the Great Lakes a millennium before. Rather, this was very clearly an 1893 Viking landnám, and the overlaying of story and character onto a maritime landscape, onto Lake Michigan, was enough. And it was fitting for this landnám to be staged in Chicago, for it had become the American model of

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

112

Landscapes and cultural memory

reinvention. The city had been entirely razed to the ground by the 1871 Chicago Fire but was quickly reborn, phoenix-like, as a thriving metropolitan centre – ambitious architecture, landscape development, and (most importantly) rhetoric wove story and a past into these newly constructed spaces. The bold, politically powerful talk that blew through its streets to provide the nickname of ‘the Windy City’ also made Chicago a recognised broker of reinvented identity. The visitors who came to Chicago, and especially the Fair’s White City, were not, we must remember, gullible or deceived into believing all that they saw. Rather, they were there because they appreciated the power of spectacles, the simulacra, the created, virtualised spaces and landscapes – this is what they came to be a part of. Americans, and Chicagoans in particular, given the spectacle of the White City and their now world-renowned ability to ‘tame’ and develop difficult landscapes, were increasingly adopting identity narratives that centred on their place-making powers. It is thus serendipitous that earlier on the very same day that Viking sailed into Chicago, 12 July 1893, Frederick Jackson Turner delivered his ‘Frontier Thesis’ at the Chicago meeting of the American Historical Association. Arguing that ‘Americans’ were born on the frontier by negotiating challenging spaces and building new communities founded in democratic alliance rather than inherited rank or status, Turner’s argument revolutionised conceptions of American identity as characterised by bold deed, movement west, and egalitarianism.37 The Vikings embodied just that, in their bravery, early uptake of democracy and embrace of law, and, most importantly, their movement into new lands and across frontiers spaces.38 These Norse peoples, their descendants, and all those who embraced a Viking identity and linked their own migration westwards to that of the medieval Norse explorers were also models for American citizenship, as the rhetoric and reenactments in the Great Lakes loudly trumpeted. For all these reasons, the ship Viking and Norse identity met with great success in the Great Lakes. A Tribune article entitled ‘A Welcome to the Norsemen’ features the rhetoric of inclusiveness and promotes Chicagoland as a fitting new home for Vikings. The arrival of Viking marks a great day for Scandinavia, but also, it is implied, for America: Neither the Viking ship, nor the Vikings who sailed it all the way across the stormy Atlantic and the great freshwater lakes can complain that there was any lack of warmth in the reception tendered

Leif Eiriksson and the 1893 World’s Fair

113

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

them on sea and shore yesterday … It was a great day for Scandinavia. The Swedes, Norwegians, and Danes of Chicago, loyal to the heart’s core to the United States, are also overflowing with affection for their old homes.39

And, the article continues, the Norsemen will be welcome here. With an allusion to the crew’s hostile reception on the East Coast, the Vikings will find that ‘[t]his is no Brooklyn, but a city abounding with Scandinavian merchants, manufacturers, and professional men, and with Scandinavian policemen who will not maltreat their kinsfolk’.40 Here, in Chicago, Viking sailors will be handed over to the tender mercies of their fellow-countrymen, who will deluge them with receptions, dinners, and other manifestations of hospitality until they come to the conclusion that this city is that Valhalla of perpetual feasting and enjoyment that their pagan ancestors believed in. May they return home safe and sound to preach the glories of Chicago in the lands to the north of the Baltic.41

The Scandinavian crew of Viking were encouraged to ‘preach the glories’ and take the tales of Chicago back to their homelands, where they might encourage more of the enterprising European Vikings to migrate to this remarkable Midwestern city that surpassed accounts of Vinland to become a divine and otherworldly place. In the Windy City, rhetorical modes were in full swing vis-à-vis Viking’s Great Lakes landnám. As exposition president Potter Palmer had earlier reminded everyone in his speech, the medieval Norse Vinland settlement had not been permanent. But this situation was now transformed. The tens of thousands gathered in cheering crowds, the s­ teamers loaded with flag-waving Scandinavian-Americans, the lavish receptions to welcome the Viking travellers, and the newspaper claims that Chicago was a very Scandinavian Valhalla – all these made it clear that, in 1893, Norse settlement in America was permanent. The rhetoric was not empty bluster: by 1900, 150,000 Swedes lived in the Andersonville neighbourhood in Chicago, more than in Gothenburg. By 1910 more than 47,000 Norwegians and their offspring lived in Chicago or ‘Little Norway’, as it was called, making it the third-largest Norwegian city after Oslo and Bergen.42 Though Wisconsin and Minnesota are now recognised as the Midwest’s bastions of Nordic culture, the events staged in the late 1800s in Chicago’s cultural and media institutions and outlets were instrumental in establishing thriving Nordic-American communities. We thus witness an important reversal of the narratives

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

114

Landscapes and cultural memory

supplied by the Vinland sagas, which concluded with Viking abandonment of the American settlements. Instead of arriving in a hostile land that was ultimately deemed uninhabitable by the medieval v ­ oyagers, the brave latter-day Vikings and Norse-Americans who made the journey through America’s interior were rewarded with not only a land to settle, but a form of paradise in America’s newest, most dynamic and quickly developing city. Viking and the latter-day Vikings had indeed found Valhalla in Chicago. Performing landnám through story and statuary Despite its lasting impression on the twenty-seven million visitors who attended it and moved through its spaces, the Chicago World’s Fair was ephemeral, built to last for less than a year. It was not only through story or memory of Norse spectacles at the Fair, however, that the Vikings were established in the Midwest. More physically enduring monuments had been created and circulated, including popular written accounts of the Vinland voyages as well as the multiple statues of Leif Eiriksson that dot the Great Lakes region, as in Chicago, Milwaukee, Minneapolis-Saint Paul, and Duluth. In stone and bronze, these statues made Leif a permanent settler of the Midwestern landscape and also later became physical sites for annual community celebration and, occasionally, re-enactments of the Vinland voyage on the new American holiday, Leif Erikson Day. A central place-making figure in the story of Midwestern Norse America was Professor Rasmus B. Anderson (1846–1936), born in Wisconsin to parents who had emigrated from Stavanger, Norway. He was founder of the University of Wisconsin’s Scandinavian Studies Department and a driving force behind establishing Leif Erikson Day in America. One of the honoured guests who had boarded Viking in Racine, Wisconsin, and sailed with it to Chicago, Professor Anderson thus physically enacted the Midwest landnám and the arrival of Norse-Americans in the enthusiastic embrace of America. First published by Chicago’s S. C. Griggs & Co. in 1874, Anderson’s popular America Not Discovered by Columbus was in its fourth edition by 1891. In his lively volume, Anderson brought together sources that included the Vinland sagas, scholarly commentaries, and accounts of North American archaeological discoveries of runestones, Viking swords, skeletons, and towers now deemed bogus. Anderson’s retelling of the story of Norse travels to the Americas had a heavy and fairly immediate impact. For instance,

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

Leif Eiriksson and the 1893 World’s Fair

115

the still circulating 1884 popular History of the United States: Told in One-Syllable Words by Josephine Pollard opens with an account – simplified but still nine pages long – of the Norsemen and their discovery of Iceland, then Greenland, and finally America. It reiterates much of the material in Anderson’s own text, and illustrates how accounts of Viking America like Anderson’s rapidly gained widespread currency.43 Much of Professor Anderson’s work was conducted on behalf of Norwegians, and Norwegian-Americans, and his not so subtly titled book – written in English, unlike many of his other publications – has been read as strategic outreach to allow Scandinavians to assimilate into American society on valorised terms.44 Noteworthy is how he almost always flattens distinctions by referring to Leif Eiriksson and other voyagers with him as Norse, and not as Icelanders, Greenlanders, or Norwegians. This makes it possible for Norwegian-Americans (and Norwegians, like those who funded the ship Viking) to easily claim Leif and the voyages to Iceland, Greenland, and the Americas as part of their own history and narrative. As Basso puts it, ‘the past is at its best when it takes us to places that counsel and instruct, that show us who we are by showing us where we have been, that remind us of our connections to what happened here’.45 By mentally inhabiting Anderson’s newly imagined Norse-American place-worlds, readers could begin to see themselves as living participants in this story. The Fair demonstrated how the larger public could collectively witness and even participate in the drama of the Viking Vinland voyage, yet in different ways such participation also occurred, after the Fair, on the private, personal level. Inscribing America Not Discovered by Columbus for Mrs Alice E. Hoffman on 26 March 1897 in Milwaukee, Anderson encourages her (and perhaps every other woman who asked for his signature) to remember the medieval Norse woman Gudrid, a Christian figure who sailed to the Americas on a Viking ship, and even gave birth there to a son, the first child of European descent to be born in the Americas (see figure 6.4). Anderson writes: ‘Let us remember dear Gudrid, the first fair faced woman whose eyes ever beheld this glorious country of ours.’ We might argue that here we see Anderson setting up an imaginative kind of role-playing, restaging the past and inviting contemporary late nineteenth-century Americans like Alice Hoffman to identify with earlier Norse figures, to link their experiences in, and appreciation of, this North American landscape to those of the medieval voyagers. And developing and appropriating earlier Norse claims to these landscapes helped to build longer and

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document 116 Landscapes and cultural memory

Figure 6.4  Signed copy of America Not Discovered by Columbus

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

Leif Eiriksson and the 1893 World’s Fair

117

deeper roots in, as Anderson puts it with his inclusive first person plural, ‘this glorious country of ours’.46 Physical Midwestern landscapes and civic, public spaces were also recoded with the Vinland narrative. In Chicago’s Humboldt Park, one still encounters a triumphant Viking standing ten feet tall on a massive granite boulder, a plaque with runic-style writing telling us that here we behold ‘Leif Erikson, Discoverer of America’ (see figure 6.5). Behind the looming Viking is the park’s Lagoon, which reminds us of the long North Atlantic journey but which simultaneously overlays both the narrative and the topography of the medieval Viking voyage onto contemporary

Figure 6.5  Statue of Leif Eiriksson by Sigvald Asbjørnsen in Humboldt Park, Chicago

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

118

Landscapes and cultural memory

Chicagoan landscapes and spaces. With this statue, indeed, Leif performs an ongoing Midwestern landnám witnessed by all who visit Humboldt Park. Planning and fundraising for this statue, designed by Norwegian-born Sigvald Asbjørnsen, had begun in 1892 to coincide with the Fair, but it was only unveiled on 12 October 1901, when, despite miserable conditions, crowds filled the park. A reporter tells us, ‘The spirit which caused the mariners with Leif Erikson to brave the rough and uncertain seas swayed his Chicago descendants that day and caused them to disregard the dismal weather while paying their tribute to the one who first found this great country.’47 While melodramatic, what these lines do, in a move which we have seen elsewhere, is important: in dedications and accompanying rhetoric, the renaming of streets and the erection of larger-than-life statues, various Chicagoan placemaking figures restaged, recreated, and temporarily inhabited that moment of landnám – all who participated were, in fact, latter-day Vikings settling this new land. But, in distinction to the Vinland voyagers, these were immigrants who would stay and thrive in this new place. As one Norwegian-American declared in a speech delivered at the dedication: ‘Leif Ericson in America is now and forever a fact, not only in his old Vinland, but in busy Chicago, in our very midst.’48 Conclusion Basso writes: ‘Building and sharing place-worlds … is not only a means of reviving former times but also of revising them … If place-making is a way of constructing the past, a venerable means of doing human history, it is also a way of constructing social traditions and, in the process, personal and social identities.’49 When the medieval Norse past and its maritime frontiers were fused to Chicago’s own lakeshore, something new was created. The several immersive Midwestern Viking experiences that were part of the Chicago World’s Fair, as well as the landscapes subsequently transformed through statuary, story, and place name, encouraged an identification with the medieval voyagers and a redefinition of what it meant to be an American. And this Great Lakes landnám allowed bold Norse-Americans around the beginning of the t­wentieth century to move through both time and place – from Norway, to Iceland, to Greenland and Vinland, and finally to Chicago. Valhalla was now, and the Vikings of Chicago were finally thriving in their new homeland.

Leif Eiriksson and the 1893 World’s Fair

119

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

Notes  1 F. L. Watkins, By Whale Road to the World’s Fair (Urbana: Folump Enterprises, 2008), pp. 41−3.  2 ‘Viking is in port’, Chicago Daily Tribune (13 July 1893), p. 1.  3 Keith Basso, Wisdom Sits in Places: Landscape and Language among the Western Apache (Albuquerque: University of New Mexico Press, 1996), p. 6.  4 Basso, Wisdom Sits in Places, p. 33.  5 Basso, Wisdom Sits in Places, pp. 32−3.  6 Basso, Wisdom Sits in Places, p. 32.  7 For scholarly editions of the Vinland sagas see Eyrbyggja saga, Grænlendinga s˛ogur, ed. Einar Ólafur Sveinsson and Matthías Þórðarson, Íslenzk fornrit IV (Reykjavík: Hið íslenzka fornritafélag, 1935), pp. 195−237, 244−69.  8 On the Vinland voyages, scholarly reception in America, and what Viking represented, see Axel Andersson and Scott Magelsen, ‘Performing a Viking history of America: the 1893 voyage and display of a Viking longship at the Columbus Quadricentennial’, Theatre Journal, 69 (2017), 175−95; Geraldine Barnes, Viking America: The First Millennium (Cambridge: D. S. Brewer, 2001); Annette Kolodny, In Search of First Contact: The Vikings of Vinland, the Peoples of the Dawnland, and the Anglo-American Anxiety of Discovery (Durham and London: Duke University Press, 2012); and J. M. Mancini, ‘Discovering Viking America’, Critical Inquiry, 28 (Summer 2002), 868−907.  9 Andrew Wawn, The Vikings and the Victorians: Inventing the Old North in Nineteenth-Century Britain (Cambridge: D. S. Brewer, 2000), p. 325. 10 Magnus Andersen, ‘Norway and the Vikings’, National Geographic, 5 (1894), 136. Cited in Watkins, By Whale Road, p. 23. 11 Watkins, By Whale Road, p. 31. 12 ‘Viking sailors ill treated’, New York Times (20 June 1893), p. 1. 13 ‘Vikingar i finkan’, Svensk Amerikanska Posten (27 June 1893), p. 1. 14 Phrasing from Andersson and Magelsen, ‘Performing a Viking history’, p. 187. 15 ‘Plan $400,000 monument on Ericson Drive’, Chicago Daily Tribune (12 September 1927), p. 1; ‘Invite Norwegians to dedication of Leif Ericson Drive’, Chicago Daily Tribune (31 August 1927), p. 10. 16 See Watkins, By Whale Road, p. 68. 17 Newspapers record that Viking had an extremely difficult time navigating the locks of the Erie Canal. See ‘Viking tug disabled’, New York Times (30 June 1893), p. 3. And at points the crew were ridiculed by pro-Columbus supporters, including a ‘jeering Spanish-American

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

120

Landscapes and cultural memory

community’, as they towed the boat by hand for some parts of the canal; Watkins, By Whale Road, p. 34. 18 ‘Viking ship received by Racine’, Chicago Daily Tribune (12 July 1893), p. 2. 19 ‘To hail the Vikings’, Chicago Daily Tribune (12 July 1893), p. 2. 20 ‘A welcome to the Norsemen’, Chicago Daily Tribune (13 July 1893), p. 4. 21 ‘To greet Norsemen’, Chicago Daily Tribune (13 July 1893), p. 1. 22 A. E. Strand, A History of the Norwegians of Illinois (Chicago: J. Anderson Publishing Company, 1905), p. 232. 23 ‘To greet Norsemen’, p. 1. 24 ‘To hail the Vikings’, p. 2. 25 ‘Viking is in port’, p. 1. 26 ‘Viking is in port’, p. 1. 27 ‘Viking is in port’, p. 1. 28 ‘Viking is in port’, p. 1. 29 ‘Viking is in port’, p. 1. 30 ‘Viking is in port’, p. 1. 31 ‘Viking is in port’, p. 1. 32 ‘A welcome to the Norsemen’, p. 4. 33 The painting is now on display at the National Gallery in Oslo, Norway. 34 Hubert Bancroft, The Book of the Fair (Chicago: Bancroft Company, 1893), pp. 902, 908−9. 35 Strand, A History of the Norwegians of Illinois, p. 237. 36 Barry Adams, ‘The journey for the Norway building comes full circle’, Wisconsin State Journal (11 September 2017), https://madison.com/ wsj/news/local/the-journey-for-the-norway-building-comes-full-cir​c​ le/, last accessed 14 December 2018. 37 Frederick Jackson Turner, The Frontier in American History (New York: H. Holt and Co., 1920). 38 See Andersson and Magelsen, ‘Performing a Viking history’, pp. 181−3. 39 ‘A welcome to the Norsemen’, p. 4. 40 ‘A welcome to the Norsemen’, p. 4. 41 ‘A welcome to the Norsemen’, p. 4. 42 Eric Dregni, Vikings in the Attic: In Search of Nordic America (Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press, 2011), p. 11. See also Odd S. Lovoll, A Century of Urban Life: The Norwegians in Chicago Before 1930 (Northfield: Norwegian-American Historical Association, 1988). 43 Josephine Pollard, History of the United States: Told in One-Syllable Words (New York: McLoughlin Brothers, 1884), pp. 5−13. 44 See: Mancini, ‘Discovering Viking America’, pp. 877−87. On Anderson, see also Bergur Þorgeirsson’s chapter 7 in this volume. 45 Basso, Wisdom Sits in Places, p. 4.

Leif Eiriksson and the 1893 World’s Fair

121

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

46 The author’s own copy of the fourth edition of Anderson, America Not Discovered by Columbus, from 1891, italics added. 47 Strand, A History of the Norwegians of Illinois, p. 238. 48 Dregni, Vikings in the Attic, p. 72. 49 Basso, Wisdom Sits in Places, p. 7.

7 Norwegian-American ‘missions of education’ and Old Norse literature Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

Bergur Þorgeirsson

The construction of ethnic identity can draw on many sources, including traditions, social practices, and written texts. Different groups, of course, utilise these sources differently, and in the case of Norwegian-American ethnicity, Old Norse texts have been particularly influential, whether directed towards scientific, stylistic, populistic, or even political ends. One historical indication of this importance is the fact that the publication of Old Norse literature has sometimes accompanied grand occasions of symbolic ethnic display, perhaps the grandest of which were the Norwegian-American celebrations of 1925. Animated by the work of the Norwegian-American historian Rasmus B. Anderson, these celebrations prominently framed ethnicity with gripping and persistent questions about Vinland. In what follows, then, I will show how the idea of Vinland and these 1925 celebrations contributed to what it meant to be an American of Norwegian descent. To do so, I want to read the Vinland materials in terms of their textual transcendence or transtextuality, to use the terms of Gérard Genette.1 By these terms Genette intends a selection of spectacles that bring canonised texts into apparent or concealed affiliation with other spectacles or ‘texts’, and in the case of Norwegian-American ethnicity, this process was both strategic and populistic. As they figured in various public celebrations, images of ‘lonesome Vikings’ crossing the Atlantic on replicas of Viking ships and the raising of statues of Viking heroes, along with the translation and publication of ancient texts, reflected a persistent need for origin myths. In the United States, this fundamental necessity guaranteed ongoing interest for Old Norse literature in particular among specific communities, mainly those descended from Scandinavian immigrants or affiliated with ‘WASP’ sentiments (that is, those of White Anglo-Saxon Protestantism). From the early nineteenth century, indeed, Old Norse literature influenced writers, artists,

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

Norwegian-American ‘missions of education’

123

and thinkers in how they thought about America in the broadest sense. Several eminent American writers and poets, to a large extent from the Protestant New England area, were particularly interested in Old Norse material and what some have called ‘the Viking temperament’;2 in this regard, we can name Edgar Allan Poe, Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, Herman Melville, Ralph Waldo Emerson, and Henry David Thoreau. The most influential stories in this American context were narratives based on the Old Norse Vinland sagas about Leif Eiriksson finding North America around the year 1000. Awareness of Leif emerged from Carl Christian Rafn’s 1837 book Antiqvitates Americanæ, while an interest in other Old Norse works of literature, mainly the writings of Snorri Sturluson (1179–1241),3 came about partly because of British publications. In America, Scandinavian immigrants, as well as the descendants of the original British colonists, participated in the construction of ethnicity by producing editions of these sagas in English, which were generally well received by the scholars, writers, and poets of the Anglophone world. At the same time, against a backdrop of international turbulence and what was widely seen as the dissolution of traditional values, academic interest in Old Norse literature increased in the Nordic lands themselves but also in the British Isles, Germany, and other countries. In view of the cultural, political, and scientific issues that dominated the nineteenth century, as well as in light of how many of these issues laid the foundation for both the horror and the prosperity of the twentieth, Old Norse literature offered a way to think about the present but also to escape from it. Snorri Sturluson was especially important in this regard, presenting raw material for the philosopher and Germanophile Thomas Carlyle (for example) and his 1841 On Heroes, Hero-Worship, and The Heroic in History. This work, which greatly influenced thinkers like Emerson and Thoreau as well as later infamous admirers like Mussolini and Hitler’s Nazis,4 begins with a chapter based on Old Norse literature and its description of heroism. The mythic topics deriving from Snorri Sturluson’s Prose Edda thus set the tone and established the scope of Carlyle’s book. In his lesser-known work from 1875, ‘The early kings of Norway’, Carlyle also uses Snorri as a source.5 For better or worse, Norse texts clearly offered deep imaginative connections in modern discussions of ethics and identity, used in fascinating ways but also misused and distorted. Even though eminent non-Scandinavian writers and poets paid the greatest attention to Old Norse literature, nineteenth-century

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

124

Landscapes and cultural memory

Scandinavians in America were often displeased by what they thought was a lack of interest in Old Norse literature and culture by non-Scandinavian intellectuals and the general public.6 Partly, this disparity arose from the competing agendas of different ethnic groups. The non-Scandinavians did not have on their agenda to fight for the cause of Leif Eiriksson being the first European to find America. But Norwegian-American interest also arose from their will to keep the United States, still a relatively young nation, conceptually tied to European roots.7 As Zachary J. Melton has pointed out, this attitude was in a way a paradox; there were common desires ‘to cut ties with the Old World’ but also to rely on ‘material from Europe as a crutch for the American identity. Writers used European materials selectively to fit their arguments’.8 But in the construction of Norwegian-American ethnicity, ties to the Old World were crucial, and Old Norse material became critical to maintaining them. English translations of the works by Snorri that triggered so much curiosity were initially published in Scotland and England. Snorri’s Prose Edda was available in translations by both Percy and Dasent, for instance, while the Orcadian Samuel Laing translated Snorri’s kings’ sagas. All of these translations appeared under the strong influence of the nineteenth-century nationalism and Romanticism that had engraved themselves on the minds of many British intellectuals.9 When the Norwegian-American historian Anderson began to publish Old Norse literature in the United States at the end of the century, he consciously appealed to these same Anglo-Saxon intellectual traditions, not only framing his publications as a ‘Norrœna Library’ (i.e. ‘Norse library’) but also calling them ‘Anglo-Saxon Classics’. He even went so far (perhaps peculiarly) as to define Eddic poetry and the Vinland sagas as ‘The Anglo-Saxon Chronicles’. Nineteenth-century interest in Leif Eiriksson thus in part reflected an awareness of what the Vinland sagas (as well as Snorri) had to offer to what might be called an Anglo-Saxon cultural memory. As such, it fed into a collective imagination of both historical works and the mythology preserved in them. Through the historical accounts of his kings’ sagas and Heimskringla, as well as through the mythology and poetics of the Prose Edda, Snorri depicted a world that could be absorbed into Anglo-Saxon heritage. At the same time, Snorri and the Vinland sagas could help preserve old-country ties by offering Norwegians, both in their homeland and in America, crucial historical and cultural support

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

Norwegian-American ‘missions of education’

125

for Norway’s struggle for independence, first from Denmark in 1814 and then from Sweden in 1905. Within this context, the publication of Old Norse texts about Vikings crossing the Atlantic and finding a new continent assumed great importance in the United States. Throughout the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries, indeed, descendants of both Scandinavians and non-Scandinavians (like Carlyle) celebrated the heroic ‘Viking temperament’.10 Both groups were sometimes further united in a struggle against the influence of Catholicism and even immigration from Catholic countries like Ireland and Italy.11 Within the United States, rivalries over who was the first European to ‘discover’ America often took on additional regional and denominational associations, with Protestants supporting Leif Eiriksson and Roman Catholics Christopher Columbus. By these means, the new American publications forged direct links between Old Norse texts, Germany, the British Isles, and Protestant New England writers and thinkers. And for these reasons, the use of Vinland material to identify the first European to find America furthered two strategic agendas. First, the aim of what I have called Anglo-Saxon cultural memory was to push back against Catholic immigration, but, second, Scandinavians longed to gain at least the same naturalised status as the descendants of earlier European settlers.12 The restrictive Immigration Act of 1924 considerably slowed the immigration of Norwegians (and other nationalities), however, with the result that, despite the ambitions of Scandinavian-Americans, the often diminished status of Norwegian-Americans remained unchanged. Turning now to some historical accounts – most prominently those of Anderson – I want to elaborate on how Old Norse works sustained what will here be called ‘missions of education’ in connection with grand occasions of the period. This phrase was used by Anderson in a speech he delivered in Milwaukee in July 1893 to celebrate the arrival of a ship from Norway called Viking, a replica of the first Viking ship ever to be excavated, the Gokstad ship in Norway.13 From Milwaukee, Viking sailed to the World’s Fair in Chicago, held in part to commemorate the exploits of Columbus in 1492. In his speech Anderson said: ‘It was a happy thought to build the Viking ship and send it on its mission of education this Columbian year.’14 Here I want to use his phrase ‘mission of education’ to refer not to the acquisition of education or knowledge in the general sense but to the pursuit of certain beliefs or causes, sometimes with the aim of ‘correcting’ the message of the

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

126

Landscapes and cultural memory

grand missions of the celebrations themselves. The phrase implies a willingness to do whatever it takes to get a pressing message heard, even the kind of bitter and abusive outbursts that Anderson himself used on a regular basis in newspaper articles, speeches, and lectures.15 In effect, Anderson’s ‘mission of education’ was a way to enact Genette’s transtextuality. Here I am mainly concerned with the publication of canonised texts and other ‘missions of education’ related to the celebrations of ethnic identity. These often foreground a metaphorical use of the term ‘Viking’ and, more specifically, the crossing of the ‘Sea of Darkness’, that is the Atlantic, as the achievement of medieval Norwegians or Icelanders specifically but also of the Norse ‘race’ in general.16 The expression ‘New Vikings’ is prominent in the period I am considering, and in the speech in Milwaukee, Anderson talked about the presence of ‘modern Vikings’ when he observed that ‘the old Norsemen … knew how to calculate the course of the sun and moon and how to measure time by the stars and here … in the presence of the modern Vikings, it is proper to say that the Old Norse Vikings were the men who taught the world to navigate the ocean’.17 This frequent use of the terms ‘Vikings’ and ‘the New Vikings’ was crucial in expressions of interest in Leif Eiriksson in connection with the 1925 celebrations.18 Anderson, who at a very young age had begun to advocate for Leif’s cultural and ethnic importance, was born in Wisconsin in 1846 and died in 1936. He was a second-generation immigrant of parents who were Norwegian Quaker sympathisers, and he spent most of his long life in Madison, a city west of Milwaukee in his state of birth. Anderson was in many ways a nonconformist and a polemical academic who with great determination lived a varied and successful life. His strength of will can be seen by the fact that he became an instructor at the University of Wisconsin in 1869 (at the age of twenty-three) and then a professor at the same institution just six years later. He was the founding head of the university’s Department of Scandinavian Studies, the first in the United States, and he has therefore been referred to as ‘the father of Nordic studies’ in the country.19 Together with all this, he organised the Norwegian-American Educational Society. He left academia in 1883 and became a businessman for a short but profitable spell, and then in 1885 he entered the world of diplomacy, serving until 1889 as the United States ambassador to Denmark. Beyond all this, he promoted Old Norse literature and founded the Norrœna Society, a publishing company that issued ­translations of historical

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

Norwegian-American ‘missions of education’

127

­ aterials related to medieval Northern Europe. Anderson wrote m several books on Scandinavian matters and translated into English the works of Scandinavian authors, including the Norwegian Nobel Prize winner of 1903, Bjørnstjerne Bjørnson. Later in his career he became the editor of the Norwegian language weekly Amerika, a post that he held for twenty-four years. Paul Knaplund and others have described this strangely complex man as being ‘stiff in opinion’ and not at all charitable, but neither stupid nor fearful. In Knaplund’s account, Anderson was an eager student, a resourceful writer, an adroit controversialist, [who] explored numerous fields. He could be frank as well as secretive, rash and tenacious, impulsive and yet have a keen eye for the main chance. A born crusader, he was fearless, pugnacious, and zealous. He had a robust mind, a brittle temper, a long memory for real or fancied wrongs, and a lofty indifference to public opinion. Although extremely self-centered and sometimes vengeful, he could be both interesting and winsome in social intercourse.20

As a ‘born crusader’, Anderson was the dominant ‘missionary of education’ in Norwegian-American society and, because of his long life, experienced and participated in numerous ethnic and national celebrations not only in the United States but also, at the instigation of his dear Norwegian friend, the world-famous ­violinist Ole Bull, in Norway. In 1872 he attended the millennial celebration in Norway commemorating king Harald Fairhair, as well as, on 18 July of that year, the unveiling of a monument to Harald on the king’s grave at Haraldshaugen in Haugesund. This monument memorialises the 872 Battle of Hafursfjordur, which has traditionally been thought to mark the unification of Norway under one king. Although Anderson was unimpressed with this historical figure, he also said that one could thank Harald for making exodus to Iceland necessary at the time of the settlement of the country around the year 874. As Anderson puts the issue elsewhere, It was Harald Haarfager’s tyranny and usurpation of power that made Norway pour her best blood out of her loins. A band of these emigrants found their way to France where they took possession of one of the fairest districts and called it Normandy and the Normans became the leaders in France in the various industries, in architecture, in art and in literature. Descendants of these Normans founded kingdoms and principalities along the Mediterranean, in Italy and in Sicily; and it was they who led the van in rescuing Jerusalem and the Holy Sepulcher from the heathens.21

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

128

Landscapes and cultural memory

Passages like this convey the depth of Anderson’s emotional response to Norwegian-American ethnicity. In effect, he saw himself as one of modern Norway’s best sons on foreign soil. And his mission transformed itself into a crusade when he influenced and contributed to the reception of Old Norse literature through the Norrœna Society, through his publications of Eddas and sagas, and through his devotion to the matter of Vinland. Like so many intellectuals of the period, he was also preoccupied with Snorri Sturluson and his various works. Anderson undeniably had Vinland on his brain all his adult life, becoming with time (as I will discuss later in this chapter) the main ideologist and instigator of Leif Erikson Day. Like so many immigrants, Scandinavian and non-Scandinavian alike, he was convinced that Viking explorers discovered America long before the Catholic Columbus, and he helped popularise the idea utilising all means possible, including lecturing, teaching, debating in the media, raising funds for statues of Leif, publishing ancient texts, and writing books on the subject. These were the ‘missions of education’ that tended to swell in the prelude to cultural celebrations. In 1874, for example, only two years after his visit to Norway and just prior to Philadelphia’s 1876 Centennial International Exhibition to commemorate the signing of the Declaration of Independence, Anderson published a monograph with the brassy title America Not Discovered by Columbus. In this book, which was reprinted a total of eight times, Anderson’s purpose was to pay homage to Norse exploits, and he was particularly eager to help propagate the idea that Norsemen were the very first Europeans to discover America. As Úlfar Bragason has argued, by championing Leif Eiriksson’s legacy at the expense of Columbus’s, Anderson was trying to be a mythmaker as well as a mythbreaker.22 The 1892 celebrations of the four hundredth anniversary of Columbus’s landing in the Caribbean, as well as the 1893 Chicago World’s Fair, were even stronger catalysts for Leif Eiriksson enthusiasts. In the years around 1890, in fact, several new translations of Snorri’s works and of the Vinland sagas were published, and old ones were reissued as well. In these works, scholars like Anderson often succumbed to the urge to present texts with historical ‘corrections’. In 1889, Anderson thus published an elite version (revised and annotated by Anderson himself) of Samuel Laing’s 1844 edition of Snorri’s kings’ sagas: The Heimskringla, or, Chronicle of the Kings of Norway.23 The Danish artist Lorenz Frølich made a cover picture for the edition, which in Anderson’s

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

Norwegian-American ‘missions of education’

129

words ‘represents a Viking ship floating on the boundless sea of time beneath a blaze of northern lights. In the boat sit Saga, the goddess of history, and the Icelandic historian Snorre. Saga is in the attitude of telling and Snorre conscientiously putting down every word.’24 To stress the vitality of Snorri’s text, Anderson references Carlyle in the very first sentence of the introduction: ‘In his interesting little book, “The Early Kings of Norway,” the distinguished writer, Thomas Carlyle, says that Snorre Sturlason’s Heimskringla “deserves, were it once well edited, furnished with accurate maps, chronological summaries, &c., to be reckoned among the great history-books of the world.”’25 By the very act of revising Laing’s text and supplementing it with notes, Anderson indicates that he is indeed following Carlyle’s advice. Benjamin Franklin de Costa, a non-Scandinavian pastor who later converted to Catholicism, shared Anderson’s motives for advancing Scandinavian ethnicity in the United States. His 1890 The Pre-Columbian Discovery of America by the Northmen (the book’s second edition) contained both a translation of the Vinland sagas and a discussion that was meant as a prelude to the ­anniversary of Columbus’s achievements. The volume’s preface foregrounds de Costa’s own ‘mission of education’: ‘owing to an unexpected demand, [the book] soon went out of print; while the progress of discussion, and the nearness of the proposed Columbian Celebration, seem to justify a new publication’.26 Like Thoreau and many others, de Costa groups both Icelanders and Scandinavians under the common term Northmen. And he echoes the opinion of Anderson and a number of contemporary Icelanders by saying that those who sought freedom by fleeing the tyranny of Harald Fairhair had been ‘the best’ in Norway. As the Northmen, de Costa maintains, had pushed on from Denmark to Norway, the condition of public affairs gradually became such that a large portion of the better classes found their life intolerable. In the reign of Harold Harfagr (the Fair-haired), an attempt was made by the king to deprive the petty jarls of their ancient udol or feudal rights, and to usurp all authority for the crown. To this the proud jarls would not submit; and, feeling themselves degraded in the eyes of their retainers, they resolved to leave those lands and homes which they could now hardly call their own.27

That very same year (1890), the American scholar Arthur Middleton Reeves published The Finding of Wineland the Good,

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

130

Landscapes and cultural memory

edited and translated from what he says are the ‘earliest records’. Compared to those of Anderson and de Costa, Reeve’s efforts are modest, as his introduction suggests: ‘It will be seen … that the Wineland history is of the briefest, but brief as it is, it has been put in jeopardy no less by those who would prove too much, than by those who would deny all. It may not be unprofitable in the present aspect of the question to appeal to the records themselves.’28 That all those who pursued a ‘mission of education’ did not do so in the same way or with knowledge of one another is clear from the fact that Reeves was on good terms with the prestigious Norwegian professor Gustav Storm, even as Storm and Anderson conducted a long-lasting feud.29 And a short time before his tragic death at the age of thirty-four, both Reeves and another man had begun separate translations of The Saga of the People of Laxardal (Laxdæla saga). Reeves never finished his own translation,30 and the other one was not published until 1925, the year of the Norse-American Centennial. This translation was by the famous economist of Norwegian descent, Thorstein Veblen.31 The aloofness towards Leif Eiriksson and his legacy at the 1893 Fair in Chicago amplified frustrations that Anderson had felt for some time. It has been suggested that it was possibly due to Anderson’s influence, having served as the US ambassador in Copenhagen, that the US government tried to get the Danish government to send to Chicago one of the most precious Old Norse manuscripts, Codex Flateyensis (Flateyjarbók, or the book of Flatey).32 This is the biggest and maybe the most beautifully decorated Icelandic manuscript and consists mainly of Snorri’s kings’ sagas. The manuscript is particularly vital because of The Saga of the Greenlanders (Grænlendinga saga), the text that recites the discovery of Vinland and does so differently from the other main source, Eirik the Red’s Saga (Eiríks saga rauða). This request was turned down by the Danes,33 much as the Norwegians rejected the idea of bringing to the Fair the newly excavated Gokstad ship.34 Outrageous both requests may have been, but they suggest something of the intensity of ‘missions of education’ in fashioning Norwegian-American ethnicity. This same intensity characterises Anderson’s response to another rejection at this time: Fair ­organisers would not permit him to be the major speaker at the arrival of the ship Viking. Frustrated and unhappy, Anderson instead had to satisfy himself with his speech in Milwaukee, and his continued bitterness over this failed ‘mission of education’ is apparent (if implicitly so) in his 1915 autobiography, wherein he

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

Norwegian-American ‘missions of education’

131

does not utter a single word about the World’s Fair, the Viking ship, or the manuscript Codex Flateyensis.35 Incidents like these increased a widespread desire to canonise the major works of Old Norse literature and create a ‘cultural saint’ in Snorri Sturluson. There were calls for new publications of increasing, even elite quality, especially for the work that in the most precise way described the medieval history of the Scandinavians: Snorri Sturluson’s Heimskringla. In their urgency, such calls could leave no doubt that Scandinavians, including AmericanScandinavians, had had a spectacular past with an accomplished literary culture that was every bit as important as the classical one. In this regard, it should be noted that it was in the years surrounding the Chicago Fair that Anderson championed his most ambitious ‘mission of education’, the fifteen large volumes published as the Norrœna Library.36 One of these volumes, issued in 1906 and featuring extensive work on the Vinland matter, had the impossibly grand (and long) title The Norse Discovery of America: A compilation in extenso of all the sagas, manuscripts and inscriptive memorials relating to the finding and settlement of the New World in the eleventh century. With presentations of freshly discovered proofs, in the form of church records supplied by the Vatican of Rome, never before published. The translations and deductions in this volume were made by Arthur Middleton Reeves, North Ludlow Beamish, and Anderson himself. Since Beamish had passed away in 1872 and Reeves in 1891, Anderson, as was quite typical for him, largely copied and pasted others’ efforts, with the little work he himself had done.37 If such a procedure reflects Anderson’s ego, it also reproduces Genette’s textual transcendence. The lifelong campaign of ‘the lonesome Viking’ to demonstrate that Leif Eiriksson had been in America long before Columbus eventually did receive some professional acknowledgement. This did not happen, however, until the Norse-American Centennial of 6–9 June 1925, fifty years after the publication of America Not Discovered by Columbus. Held at the Minnesota State Fairgrounds in memory of the one hundredth anniversary of the beginning of formal Norwegian immigration, the Centennial commemorated the sailing of the first Norwegian immigrant ship to the United States, the tiny Quaker sloop Restaurationen (‘the Restoration’) from Stavanger to New York.38 For Norwegian-Americans, this extremely dangerous crossing recalled the almost mythic achievements of the Vikings 900 years earlier, when they were the first Europeans to find the new continent. On 8 June 1925,

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

132

Landscapes and cultural memory

President Calvin Coolidge, speaking to an audience of over 80,000 Norwegian-Americans, praised their contributions to American society and even acknowledged their claim that a Norwegian explorer, Leif Eiriksson, had discovered America long before Christopher Columbus. A local journalist reported the crowd’s response: ‘The great roar that rose from Nordic throats to Thor and Odin above the lowering gray clouds told that the pride of the race had been touched.’39 Coolidge’s speech was a peak event of the Centennial celebration, which over the course of its three days drew nearly 200,000 Norwegian-Americans. It was likewise only after Anderson’s countless ‘missions of education’ that in 1929 Wisconsin became the first US state to designate a state holiday in honour of Leif. This official observance spread to other US states and finally became a federal observance in 1964, when President Lyndon B. Johnson declared 9 October an annual Leif Erikson Day. Old Norse literature lies as the foundation of these ‘missions of education’, missions that testified to people’s gullibility as well as their urge to find actual proof of Leif’s expeditions. Archaeology, both at L’Anse aux Meadows and at other possible Vikings sites throughout the eastern half of North America, might be called the missions’ axis. Indeed, the construction of ship replicas has served as a kind of imaginative archaeology that has commonly figured in attempts to ‘prove’ the possibility of Viking expeditions to America. These reconstructed ships might themselves be considered ‘missions of education’, although their success has varied widely.40 The last such ship, Saga Farmann, a knörr or vessel built upon the model of the so-called Klåstadship preserved in Tønsberg, Norway, was launched as recently as September 2018 and was supposed to head north along the Norwegian coastline and then south down rivers towards Istanbul and into the Mediterranean.41 This mixture of gullibility with the desire to find historical proof appears in one of the most bizarre examples of a ‘mission of ­education’ – two trips across the ‘Sea of Darkness’ by the Norwegian Gerhard Folgerø, perhaps the most obsessive Viking seafarer of the twentieth century. Folgerø’s first voyage took place in 1926, prior to the Sesqui-Centennial International Exposition in Philadelphia, and his second began in 1929, just before the 1930 celebrations of Norway’s conversion to Christianity.42 The latter expedition had the peculiar aim to ‘prove’ that the Vikings had sailed not only in the Baltics but also to different Western European countries, through the Mediterranean as far as Egypt, via the same route as Columbus

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

Norwegian-American ‘missions of education’

133

himself to the Caribbean, and up the American coast and thence to Iceland and back to Norway again. This hazardous journey took more than three years, beginning in 1929 and ending in September 1932. Folgerø’s ship was the Roald Amundsen, while the one at the 1926 Philadelphia exposition was named Leif Eiriksson. After the second journey, a Norwegian newspaper in America nicknamed the captain yet another ‘lonesome Viking’.43 If Old Norse literature was only one feature in the formation of Norwegian-American ethnic identity, Norwegian-Americans were only one of the ethnic groups to rely on it. Celebrations like the 1893 Chicago World’s Fair, the Norrœna Society, translations of Old Norse works, the establishment of holidays, and the reenactment of Viking voyages also served as what Anderson labelled ‘missions of education’ for views of American history and ethnicity in general. Anderson may have been narrowly interested in Leif and Scandinavian immigrants, but he contributed to discussions of how the United States, at a turbulent point in its history, might imagine its past, its newest citizens, and their future. By textual transcendence evident in the fashioning of Norwegian-American ethnicity (to reprise Genette’s term), more inclusive ethnicities can be imagined, each with their own strengths and limitations. Leif Eiriksson may not have ‘discovered’ the Americas, but the ­nineteenth- and twentieth-century discovery of Leif has ­contributed crucially to cultural imagination in the United States. Notes  1 Gérard Genette, The Architext: An Introduction, trans. Jane E. Lewis (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1992), p. 81.  2 Guðni Elísson describes what is thought to be the ‘Viking temperament’ in the representation of the poem ‘Egill Skallagrímsson’ by the Icelandic poet Einar Benediktsson in this way: ‘Power, wanderlust, master-race ethics, and poetic imagination all merged into one in the figure of the viking’: Guðni Elísson, ‘From realism to neoromanticism’, in Daisy Neijmann (ed.), A History of Icelandic Literature (Lincoln: University of Nebraska Press, in cooperation with The AmericanScandinavian Foundation, 2006), pp. 308−56 (334). See more on ‘the Viking temperament’ in Daisy L. Neijmann, The Icelandic Voice in Canadian Letters: The Contribution of Icelandic-Canadian Writers to Canadian Literature (Ottawa: Carleton University Press, 1997), p. 236.  3 See Snorri Sturluson, The Heimskringla, or, Chronicle of the Kings of Norway, trans. Samuel Laing, 3 vols (London: Longman, Brown, Green and Longmans, 1844).

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

134

Landscapes and cultural memory

 4 See a discussion on Carlyle’s influence on Mussolini and Hitler in Jonathan C. McCollum, ‘Thomas Carlyle, fascism, and Frederick: from Victorian prophet to fascist ideologue’ (MA thesis, Brigham Young University, 2007).  5 Thomas Carlyle, The Early Kings of Norway: Also an Essay on the Portraits of John Knox (London: Chapman & Hall, 1875).  6 This tone characterises Rasmus B. Anderson’s book, America Not Discovered by Columbus: A Historical Sketch of the Discovery of America by the Norsemen in the Tenth Century (Chicago: S. C. Griggs and Company, 1874). He desperately wanted to create American awareness of Nordic culture and show that Nordic Studies were significant for Americans. See Úlfar Bragason, ‘Rasmus B. Anderson and Vinland: mythbreaking and mythmaking’, in Merrill Kaplan and Timothy R. Tangherlini (eds), News from Other Worlds: Studies in Nordic Folklore, Mythology and Culture, in Honor of John F. Lindow (Berkeley: North Pinehurst Press, 2012), pp. 134−53.  7 Zachary J. Melton, ‘Nineteenth-century American reception of Old Norse literature: the search for American identity’ (MA thesis, University of Iceland, 2017), p. 2.  8 Melton, ‘Nineteenth-century American reception’, p. 2.  9 See among others: Thomas Percy, Northern Antiquities, or, a ­description of the manners, customs, religion and laws of the ancient Danes, and other northern nations; including those of our own Saxon ancestors. With A Translation of the Edda, or System of Runic Mythology, and Other Pieces, From the Ancient Islandic Tongue. In two volumes. Translated from Mons. Mallet’s Introduction a L’Histoire de Dannemarc, &c. With Additional Notes By the English Translator, and Goranson’s Latin Version of the Edda (London: T. Carnan and Co., 1770). 10 Carlyle’s description of the Norwegian king Sigurd the Crusader is typical for the characteristics of the ‘Viking temperament’. Carlyle, The Early Kings of Norway, pp. 179−80. 11 On the hostility towards Catholicism, see Melton, ‘Nineteenth-century American reception’, pp. 33ff, 46ff; and Annette Kolodny, In Search of First Contact: The Vikings of Vinland, the Peoples of the Dawnland, and the Anglo-American Anxiety of Discovery (Durham and London: Duke University Press, 2012), pp. 141−2, 207. 12 See: April R. Schultz, ‘“The pride of the race had been touched”: the 1925 Norse-American Immigration Centennial and ethnic identity’, Journal of American History, 77:4 (1991), 1265−95; and Arlow W. Andersen, Rough Road to Glory: The Norwegian-American Press Speaks out on Public Affairs, 1875 to 1925 (Philadelphia: Balch Institute, 1990), pp. 27ff. 13 Rasmus B. Anderson, ‘Speech delivered by Rasmus B. Anderson, Milwaukee, WI, July 1893’, Wisconsin Historical Society: Wisconsin

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

Norwegian-American ‘missions of education’

135

Local History & Biography Articles, www.wisconsinhistory.org/R​e​c​or​ d​s/Newspaper/BA14914, last accessed 14 December 2018. See further Amy Mulligan’s chapter 6 in this volume. 14 Anderson, ‘Speech delivered by Rasmus B. Anderson’. 15 On Anderson’s life and works, see: Lloyd Hustvedt, Rasmus Bjørn Anderson, Pioneer Scholar (Northfield: Norwegian-American Historical Association, 1966); Paul Knaplund, ‘Rasmus B. Anderson, pioneer and crusader’, Norwegian American Studies and Records, 18 (1954), 23−43; Bragason, ‘Rasmus B. Anderson and Vinland’, pp. 134−53; and Rasmus B. Anderson, Life Story of Rasmus B. Anderson, written by himself with the assistance of Albert O. Barton (Madison: n.p., 1915). 16 ‘In early times the Atlantic ocean, like all things without known bounds, was viewed by man with mixed feelings of fear and awe. It was called the Sea of Darkness’: B. F. de Costa, The Pre-Columbian Discovery of America, by the Northmen, with Translations from the Icelandic Sagas (Albany: J. Munsell’s Sons, 1890), p. 10. 17 Anderson, ‘Speech delivered by Rasmus B. Anderson’. 18 A thorough discussion about the Norse-American Centennial in 1925 can be found in April R. Schultz, Ethnicity on Parade: Inventing the Norwegian American through Celebration (Amherst: University of Massachusetts Press, 1994). 19 Bragason, ‘Rasmus B. Anderson and Vinland’, p. 134. 20 Knaplund, ‘Rasmus B. Anderson’, pp. 23−4. 21 Anderson, Life Story of Rasmus B. Anderson, pp. 157−8. 22 Bragason, ‘Rasmus B. Anderson and Vinland’, pp. 134−53. 23 Snorri Sturluson, The Heimskringla; or the Sagas of the Norse Kings from Icelandic of Snorre Sturlason, trans. Samuel Laing, revised with notes by Rasmus B. Anderson, 4 vols (London: John C. Nimmo, 1889). 24 Anderson, Life Story of Rasmus B. Anderson, p. 512. 25 Rasmus B. Anderson, ‘Introduction’, in Sturluson, The Heimskringla, p. vii. 26 De Costa, The Pre-Columbian Discovery of America, p. 5. 27 De Costa, The Pre-Columbian Discovery of America, p. 19. 28 Arthur Middleton Reeves, The Finding of Wineland the Good: The History of the Icelandic Discovery of America (London: Henry Frowde, 1890), p. 6. 29 See Anderson’s own version of the feud with Gustav Storm in Anderson, Life Story of Rasmus B. Anderson, pp. 656−61. 30 See W. D. Foulke, Biography and Correspondence of Arthur Middleton Reeves (London: Henry Frowde, 1895), p. lxxi. 31 The Laxdæla Saga, trans. Thorstein Veblen (New York: B. W. Huebsch, 1925). Eric Stockton remarks: ‘Thorstein Veblen’s sole contribution to the study of Icelandic literature as literature was his The Laxdæla Saga … The translation was begun, and probably finished,

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

136

Landscapes and cultural memory

in the winter of 1889–90; while the Introduction was written shortly before publication’: Eric Stockton, ‘Thorstein Veblen as an Icelandic scholar’, Scandinavian Studies, 26:1 (February 1954), 1−11 (1). 32 Bragason, ‘Rasmus B. Anderson and Vinland’, p. 153. 33 Erik Petersen, ‘Vínlandsferð Flateyjarbókar. Um bókaverði, Codex Flateyensis og þjóðlega hégómadýrð’, trans. Finnbogi Guðmundsson, Árbók Landsbókasafns Íslands, 17 (1991), 5−25. 34 About the Gokstad-ship, see Kolodny, In Search of First Contact, pp. 222−3. 35 Anderson, Life Story of Rasmus B. Anderson. 36 The series was published in different editions, the first one in 1905: The Nine Books of the Danish History by Saxo Grammaticus (vols 1−2), Teutonic Mythology: Gods and Goddesses of the Northland (vols 3−5), The Volsunga Saga (vol. 6), The Heimskringla: A History of the Norse Kings (vols 7−9), The Story of Burnt Njal (vol. 10), The Elder Eddas of Saemund Sigfusson (vol. 11), Romances and Epics of Our Northern Ancestors: Norse, Celt and Teuton (vol. 12), A Collection of Popular Tales (vol. 13), The Arthurian Tales (vol. 14), and The Norse Discovery of America (vol. 15). 37 Rasmus B. Anderson, North Ludlow Beamish, and Arthur Middleton Reeves, The Norse Discovery of America: A compilation in extenso of all the sagas, manuscripts and inscriptive memorials relating to the finding and settlement of the New World in the eleventh century. With presentations of freshly discovered proofs, in the form of church records supplied by the Vatican of Rome, never before published, translations and deductions (New York: Norrœna Society, 1906). 38 See Schultz, Ethnicity on Parade. 39 Schultz, ‘“The pride of the race had been touched”’, p. 1265. 40 See Daron W. Olson, Vikings Across the Atlantic: Emigration and the Building of a Greater Norway, 1860–1945 (Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press, 2013). 41 See ‘Den store reisen’, Saga farmann: Bli med på en vikingreise Europa rundt, http://sagafarmann.no/den-store-reisen/, last accessed 22 March 2019. 42 See Osvald Gilje, Gerhard Folgerø – en eventyrer (Sandnes: Commentum Forlag, 2013); Gerhard Folgerø, Over Nordatlanteren i åpen båt (Oslo: Arthur Rosén, 1944). 43 See ‘Den ensomme Viking. Den sidste Rest av Kaptein Folgerøs norske Mandskap gaat fra borde i Tampa’, Nordisk Tidende (22 May 1930), p. 1.

8 Americans in Sagaland: Iceland travel books 1854–1914 Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

Emily Lethbridge

From America to Iceland ‘The Yankee is here; his feet tread [Iceland’s] heath-clad hills and snow-covered mountains. He has boiled his dinner in the hotsprings, cooled his punch in snow a hundred years old, and toasted his shins by a volcanic fire’, declared Pliny Miles in his 1854 account of travel to Iceland, Norðurfari, or, Rambles in Iceland.1 From the mid-nineteenth century onwards, not least with the advent of steamship passage, Iceland became increasingly accessible for tourists looking to marvel at natural wonders and wax lyrical about sublimely forbidding landscapes, as well as for those whose interests lay more in the country’s ‘ancient’ political history and literary culture. The logistical challenges inherent in visiting Iceland (both getting there and getting around once there) made it perfect material for writing up for public and private audiences back home, and the English-language Icelandic travel narrative (with its own subcategories, such as the scientific journal, the adventure narrative, and the literary pilgrimage) became a significant subgenre of travel writing over the course of the nineteenth century. The bulk was published in Britain, but a handful – including Miles’s book – were penned by American visitors and published in America for American audiences. Considerable work has been done on the tradition of British travel writing on Iceland, but the American accounts have not received much attention in scholarship hitherto.2 This essay will focus on seven American-authored Icelandic travelogues published over a sixty-year period stretching from the decade before the American Civil War (fought 1861–65) to the outbreak of the First World War.3 Two of the seven works are not ‘authentic’ accounts of travel according to the strictest definitions of the travel writing genre on the basis that their authors did not visit Iceland themselves, but instead drew heavily on (and in some instances

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

138

Landscapes and cultural memory

virtually plagiarised) previously published material about Iceland, including older travel books.4 The ‘counterfeit’ travelogues are included here nonetheless, since together these seven narratives comprise a significant and distinctive part of the overall picture of foreign representations of Iceland published in the early modern and modern period. As far as their structure and content are concerned, the American works generally mirror their British counterparts, and, moreover, they are often in dialogue with them (as well as with each other), not least because British travellers and their descriptions of Iceland are frequently mentioned. Tables 8.1 and 8.2 at the end of this chapter present an overview of travelogue and academic sources cited by each of the seven American authors under discussion. At the same time, for all that the American publications have in common with British descriptions of Iceland, certain distinctive perspectives also arise from their authors’ New World background, as will be seen. During the century when the Vinland saga narratives had become accessible to the English reading public thanks to summaries, translations, and discussion published in works by Carl Christian Rafn (Antiqvitates Americanæ, 1837), North Ludlow Beamish (The Discovery of North America by the Northmen, 1841), and Rasmus B. Anderson (America Not Discovered by Columbus, 1874), predictably, American visitors came ashore in Iceland with the voyages of ‘discovery’ undertaken by Leif Eiriksson and company 800 or so years previously at the forefront of their minds. Public celebrations held in 1874 to mark the millennium of Iceland’s settlement also struck a chord with American visitors of the period, whose own centenary of the Declaration of Independence was commemorated in 1876.5 Visiting Iceland was an opportunity for these travellers to reflect (whether consciously or unconsciously) on what it was to be American, and they did this in part by forging links between modern-day America and Iceland – at a time when Iceland was regaining in stages the political independence it had given up in the thirteenth century.6 The American travellers: an overview 1. Pliny Miles, Norðurfari, or, Rambles in Iceland (New York: Charles B. Norton, 1854). Pliny Miles (b. 1818 in New York State, d. 1865 in Malta) travelled out to Iceland in the summer of 1852 on the Danish ­mail-packet Sölöven, one of two ships wrecked a few years later on Snæfellsnes

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

Iceland travel books 1854−1914

139

in western Iceland.7 In addition to his book about Iceland, he published on miscellaneous topics such as ocean steam navigation and communication, postal reform, and mnemotechny. The book’s title, Norðurfari (‘Northern traveller’), was borrowed from an Icelandic paper of the time, which was published annually and contained political news from around the world along with translations of English and American writing. Miles was given a copy of this publication while in Iceland, and he refers to it at the very end of his volume: his translation of the title as ‘Northern Journalist’ gives an insight into how he perceived his own work and role.8 2. John Ross Browne, ‘A Californian in Iceland’, Harper’s New Monthly Magazine (1863) and The Land of Thor (New York: Harper & Brothers, 1867). John Ross Browne (b. 1821/2 in Dublin, d. 1875 in Oakland, California) was an Irish-born American whose family emigrated and settled in Louisville, Kentucky in 1833. He worked as a professional writer and illustrator and as a government agent, publishing over twenty books and articles about his travels in America and abroad, as well as reports on mining, irrigation, Native American affairs, railroads, and Californian history. From 1861 to 1863 Browne and his family lived in Germany; during this time, he travelled widely in Europe and visited Iceland. His Icelandic travelogue was published in the first instance as a long, three-part magazine article in an 1863 issue of Harper’s New Monthly Magazine. The same material was subsequently published as the last part of The Land of Thor, a lengthy book about Browne’s experiences travelling in Russia and all over Scandinavia. 3. Charles Asbury Stephens, Off to the Geysers, or, The Young Yachters in Iceland. As Recorded by ‘Wade’, The Camping Out Series 3 (Philadelphia, Chicago, Toronto: The John C. Winston Co., 1873). Charles Asbury Stephens (b. 1844 in Norway, Maine; d. 1931 in the same place) was another prolific writer who produced a huge number of fictional short stories and articles on travel, many of which appeared in the Boston-published children’s magazine The Youth’s Companion, for which he worked from 1871 until his death.9 Stephens’s travel book on Iceland was one of six volumes in his ‘Camping Out’ series. These books were aimed at a young adult audience and followed the adventures of a group of young men of whom ‘Wade’ was one. The characters were based

140

Landscapes and cultural memory

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

on students of the Harvard professor of zoology and geology (and ­polygenist) Louis Agassiz – one student was a cousin of Stephens – and the Camping Out narratives drew on scientific expeditions made by them in the 1860s.10 Off to the Geysers is thus a fictionalised travel narrative: it is not certain that Stephens himself ever visited Iceland. 4. Bayard Taylor, Egypt and Iceland in the Year 1874 (New York: G. P. Putnam’s Sons, 1874). Bayard Taylor (b. 1825 in Chester County, Pennsylvania; d. 1878 in Berlin, Germany) published numerous works of travel literature, fiction, and poetry over the course of his lifetime and by the mid-nineteenth century had become one of America’s best-known professional travel writers.11 He was a friend of Icelandophile Willard Fiske and supported Fiske’s endeavour to send books to Iceland on the occasion of the 1874 millennial celebrations.12 Taylor travelled to Iceland that summer to cover the events for the New York Tribune, and further descriptions of his Icelandic visit were included in his book Egypt and Iceland, published in the same year. 5. Samuel Kneeland, A.M., M.D., An American in Iceland: An Account of its Scenery, People, and History. With a description of its Millennial Celebration in August, 1874; with Notes on the Orkney, Shetland, and Faroe Islands, and the Great Eruption of 1875 (Boston: Lockwood, Brooks, and Company, 1876). Samuel Kneeland (b. 1821 in Boston, Massachusetts; d. 1888 in Hamburg, Germany) was another member of the 1874 American party. He was a naturalist and also had a degree in medical science; over the course of his career he lectured on physiology and zoology at Harvard and the Massachusetts Institute of Technology. His interest in volcanism and earthquakes led him to travel to the Philippines and Hawaii (among other places), and he published books about these expeditions and countries in the 1880s, as well as on the Yosemite Valley and California in 1872. Kneeland was a proponent of the theory of polygenism and he wrote a lengthy introduction to the 1851 American edition of Charles Hamilton Smith’s racist scientific book The Natural History of the Human Species; Kneeland’s racist bias is apparent in places throughout An American in Iceland and the book builds implicitly on this sinister foundation, as do others of the period.

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

Iceland travel books 1854−1914

141

6. Rev. Phineas Camp Headley, The Island of Fire, or, A Thousand Years of the Old Northmen’s Home, 874–1874 (Boston: Lee and Shepard; New York: Charles T. Dillingham, 1874). Phineas Headley (b. 1819 at Walton, New York; d. 1903 at Lexington, Massachusetts) held degrees in law and theology and wrote on various religious, historical, military, and biographical subjects, publishing his first book (on women in the Bible) in 1850. The Island of Fire was, according to Headley’s preface, inspired by a piece about Iceland in The Cornhill Magazine published in connection with the 1874 festivities.13 Headley (like Kneeland) drew on a large number of sources, which are listed in the Preface. Sometimes he paraphrases or quotes directly from these works, structuring descriptions of places or Icelandic customs in such a way that it seems he is the first-hand source. It is not apparent that Headley visited Iceland in person, though, and for this reason The Island of Fire – like Off to the Geysers – is arguably not a ‘genuine’ travel book. 7. W[aterman] S[paulding] C[hapman] Russell, Iceland: Horseback Tours in Saga Land (Boston: Richard G. Badger; Toronto: The Copp Clark Co. Ltd, 1914). W. S. C. Russell (b. 1871 in North Woodstock, New Hampshire; d. 1918, in the same place) was a geologist and high school science teacher in Springfield, Massachusetts; he later founded a botanical supply company.14 He visited Iceland four times, in 1909, 1910, 1911, and 1913; Iceland: Horseback Tours in Saga Land is a cumulative account of all of these trips and seems to be the only book Russell published. He travelled much more widely than the other American authors discussed here, visiting many places in the north, west, and south of Iceland (as well as the Highlands) in addition to the sites on the usual tourist circuit. The (not so) ‘lonely isle of the north’ The American authors’ reasons for visiting Iceland and writing up their experiences for a wider audience in general mirror the rationale of their British counterparts and do not change much over time. Most commonly, authors claim there is a lack of accurate or up-to-date information about Iceland: they wish to fill a gap in the Iceland travel narrative market, and to introduce readers at home to the wonders – natural and cultural – of the far north. Miles, for example, writes: ‘There are no accessible books, of a late date, in

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

142

Landscapes and cultural memory

our language, that give either an intelligible or faithful account of Iceland. The object of the following chapters has been to present a readable and truthful narrative, to create some interest in the people, the literature, and the productions of the lonely isle of the north.’15 As the nineteenth century progressed, Iceland was no longer the unusual destination it had been in earlier decades, and authors had to work harder to find a new angle to promote their accounts. Writing a decade or so after Miles, Browne noted snobbishly that while previously ‘[e]ven the unlearned adventurer could obtain a reputation by an unvarnished recital of what he saw and heard’, by the 1860s travel in Iceland was ‘little more than a pleasant summer excursion, brought within the capacity of every tyro in travel through the levelling agency of steam’.16 Politics was at the heart of the visit to Iceland undertaken by two authors, Taylor and Kneeland, and was the impetus for Headley’s volume on Iceland, as mentioned above. Taylor and Kneeland were members of a party made up of American and British individuals who sailed to Iceland in July 1874 to join in the historic commemorative events and cover the occasion for newspapers and periodicals back home.17 Iceland found itself in the international spotlight: descriptions of King Christian IX of Denmark’s visit in order to grant a new constitution (the country was still under Danish rule at this point) and to take part in festivities held in Reykjavík and at Thingvellir were published widely.18 As well as journeying to Thingvellir, King Christian visited Geysir and camped there with a large entourage; Taylor and Kneeland were among those who availed themselves of the opportunity to observe the geothermal marvel at the same time as the king. In their books, as well as describing the formal proceedings, they write more extensively about Iceland and its history and culture, as well as visits made to key sites of interest on the tourist circuit. For all visitors, the key sites of interest invariably included Thingvellir and Geysir, and sometimes Gullfoss: the three stops on the famous ‘Golden Circle’ tour today. All tourists commenced their horseback tour from Reykjavík after disembarking there; the logistical challenges involved in outfitting travel – finding a suitable guide, buying horses, organising the baggage – are often given in detail and are a convention of the Icelandic travel narrative genre regardless of the nationality of the author. In addition to Golden Circle sites, some of the Americans made a few other stops in south Iceland (such as the cathedral site of Skálholt) or explored the southwestern peninsula of Reykjanes (especially Krýsuvík, where

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

Iceland travel books 1854−1914

143

sulphur mines established by the mid-nineteenth century were of particular interest). Parts of the north of Iceland feature in three of the accounts (by Stephens, Headley, and Russell), but by and large our authors did not venture off the beaten track. The format and content of the seven works are thus largely in parallel with each other (as well as with their British counterparts), with the narrative structure being determined by the travellers’ itineraries. When read alongside the British travel books, one way in which these accounts of travel in Iceland are distinctive is in their explicit staging of the figure of the American traveller in the Icelandic landscape. The first-person narrators often refer to themselves as American, Californian, or Yankee; Browne’s and Kneeland’s accounts announce their author’s nationality in their titles. The flying of the American flag (and the interest it provokes in bystanders) is noted on various occasions in several accounts, as well as descriptions of Fourth of July celebrations by those who were travelling on that significant date. The authors’ place of origin is also emphasised in the context of landscape descriptions. Naturally, their frame of reference is first and foremost their homeland, and though it is the alien strangeness of the Icelandic landscape that is primarily stressed (as in all accounts of travel in Iceland),19 American topography is frequently invoked to better communicate a sense of Icelandic geographical features. Rivers in Iceland are equated with rivers in North America; Gullfoss is compared with Niagara Falls and the Icelandic Geysir with the Californian geysers. With the exception of Headley, the travelogues all have the firstperson narrator typical of this genre of writing. Impressions of the landscape encountered together with observations regarding Icelanders and their way of living are communicated to the reader directly as the author proceeds on his journey, and dialogue with guides or locals is often reported in direct speech. Explicit examples of intertextuality – a key feature of travel writing – include the appearance of the same individuals in multiple accounts. One of the leading guides in the middle and later decades of the nineteenth century, Geir Zoëga (1830–1917), for example, was ­ Pliny Miles’s guide, then John Ross Browne’s a few years later, and though Taylor and Kneeland failed to secure his services in 1874 (he had already been engaged as one of the king’s party), Zoëga organised the logistics of their trip and a nephew of his (another Geir) was appointed as guide.20 The Americans appear in each others’ accounts too: Miles is mentioned in Browne’s; Taylor

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

144

Landscapes and cultural memory

and Kneeland make reciprocal appearances in their respective books (unsurprisingly, since they describe the same events and were travel companions), and they also both appear in Headley’s volume. Headley quotes from Miles and Browne along with other sources, though often without direct attribution. Intertextuality also arises through citation of the same published sources, whether travel books or scholarly works. In addition to landscape descriptions, most of the volumes under discussion also contain survey chapters that aim to provide information about the circumstances of the settlement of Iceland and the country’s political, religious, and literary history, notes on social customs and perceived peculiarities of the country’s inhabitants, and descriptions of its flora and fauna, its volcanism, and other geological characteristics. The same ground is covered again and again, adding to the intertextual web. ‘Quaint and curious sagas’ The American descriptions of Iceland demonstrate a varying degree of interest in medieval Icelandic literature and culture in general. Along with the narrative motifs already mentioned, referencing the Sagas of Icelanders (Íslendingasögur) in particular was clearly considered to be one of the stock component parts required in a travel book about the country.21 Miles notes that Iceland is ‘classic ground’ from the perspective of its literary history but has little more than this to say.22 When characters discuss possible destinations for their next expedition at the beginning of Off to the Geysers, the sagas, along with Iceland’s geology, are the draw: ‘Kit thought we had better go to Iceland to see the geysers and the fire-jokuls, and study the geology and mineralogy of that strange volcanic island. There, too, were the quaint and curious sagas, – stories of the rough Northmen of early days.’23 Browne, in a chapter describing his journey to Thingvellir, exclaims: ‘I was at last in the land of the Sagas – the land of fire, and brimstone, and boiling fountains!’24 Despite this emphasis on the sagas and their fundamental association with Iceland as a place here and elsewhere in the book, Browne offers nothing to suggest he has actually read one, and at one point even suggests they are rather boring.25 Personal predilections aside, interest in the sagas – and explicit attempts to correlate their narrative action with places visited – was probably directly related to the availability of English ­translations for many visitors. As the second half of the late nineteenth century progressed, more full translations of sagas became

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

Iceland travel books 1854−1914

145

a­ vailable, together with summaries and extracts that were ­published as part of literary tourism-orientated travel books, such as the English clergyman and writer Sabine Baring-Gould’s Iceland: Its Scenes and Sagas. This work, published in 1863, seems in fact to be something of a fulcrum with regard to the intertextual relationship between the American travelogues, linking them together in various ways. Firstly, Baring-Gould and Browne seem to have been fellow passengers on board the screw steamer Arcturus in June 1862: they appear in each others’ accounts, though not under their proper names.26 Browne claims that his original contribution to the genre is in producing ‘accurate sketches’ of Icelandic scenery, arguing that ‘[i]n nothing is Iceland so deficient as in pictorial ­representation’;27 this was also Baring-Gould’s aim, though with a specific focus on saga-sites. Secondly, while Baring-Gould’s interest in the sagas apparently did not rub off on Browne, both Stephens and Headley seem to have relied on Baring-Gould’s weighty saga-oriented tome in lieu of their own first-hand experiences of sagas and saga landscapes. At the beginning of Iceland: Its Scenes and Sagas, Baring-Gould describes how he related parts of The Saga of Grettir (Grettis saga) to fellow tourists in instalments while they travelled.28 This framenarrative technique provides the context for lengthy retellings from The Saga of Grettir (and other sagas) that are woven together with descriptions of landscape throughout the book. Stephens uses a similar technique in Off to the Geysers: excerpts from The Saga of Grettir are told to the Young Yachters by an old Icelandic farmer at Reykjahlíð over the course of a few days while the weather keeps the tourists inside. The excerpts from the saga are printed in full – and are exactly those printed in Iceland: Its Scenes and Sagas, but there is no direct attribution. In the style of authors of ‘genuine’ travel books, Wade (the book’s narrator) notes: From the first, it had occurred to me to secure the translation, if possible, to go with my narrative of our Iceland tour. Accordingly … I caught down in my diary (writing recklessly over dates and days) the main part of the story as Jan [the group’s guide] had translated it. Afterwards, during our homeward voyage, I wrote it out more in full, and now submit it to the reader – not as a literal translation, but as a liberal paraphrase – in parts as the old man read them to us.29

The episode is, of course, fictional, and so in order to account for the presence of Baring-Gould’s translation rather than the ‘liberal paraphrase’, Stephen uses a neat metatextual trick. The

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

146

Landscapes and cultural memory

­ rst-person narrative is ‘interrupted’ by a note in square brackets fi by the book’s editor, who explains: ‘As young Additon’s translation was, from the nature of the case, but a “liberal paraphrase,” we have deemed it better, on the whole, to substitute for it a more careful rendering of this beautiful story, which we take from a wellknown English translation of the Gretla. – ED’.30 When looked for, other verbal echoes in this part of Off to the Geysers can be detected too.31 Quotation and paraphrase from Iceland: Its Scenes and Sagas is an important part of Headley’s attempt to recreate something of a saga-pilgrimage narrative dynamic in his largely derivative book The Island of Fire.32 Chapter 16, for example, opens with the description of a journey from Reykjavík to Mosfell that is a clear rehash of Baring-Gould’s text. In Iceland: Its Scenes and Sagas we read: ‘Off at last! Farewell comfort, ease, good food, snug beds! … At eight o’clock on the evening of June 19th, we left Reykjavík … We were a merry party, making as much noise as boys breaking loose from school … the American sang “Yankee-doodle,” with the fervour of a patriot.’33 Headley writes: ‘“Off at last!” exclaimed the leader of a company, on a June morning, as their horses with a bound, and frisk of their bushy tails, started from Reykjavik, for Mosfell and the north of Iceland’, noting a little later: ‘In this party was an American, who sang with a will “Yankee Doodle,” ringing out from the general schoolboy jollity.’34 After some notes on the landscape the travellers are passing through, Headley uses the mention of Mosfell to introduce the reader to The Saga of Egil (Egils saga) and the ‘beautiful story from the Aigla Saga’ in which Egil composes the poem ‘The Grievous Loss of Sons’ (‘Sonatorrek’); the extract from the saga that follows in Headley’s account is Baring-Gould’s retelling, as found in his book.35 Of all of the authors discussed here, it is Russell who seems to be most thoroughly read in the sagas and genuinely interested in connecting places in them to places visited while travelling in Iceland. Having access to a wider range of sagas in translation than his nineteenth-century American predecessors and travelling longer and further than them gave him a greater opportunity to ruminate on how saga narratives link past with present via the landscape. In a poem composed in honour of Iceland and printed in the book, Russell addresses Iceland as ‘isle of poets!’, ‘[i]sle of song!’, ‘isle of story!’, ‘Snorri’s isle!’, and ‘land of heroes’; sites that appear in The Saga of Grettir, Njal’s Saga (Njáls saga), The Saga of the People of Vatnsdal (Vatnsdæla saga), and The Saga of Hrafnkel Frey’s

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

Iceland travel books 1854−1914

147

Godi (Hrafnkels saga Freysgoða) are all pointed out to the reader as Russell describes his routes around the country.36 Although the focus of Russell’s travel account is, in fact, much more diffuse than its subtitle Horseback Tours in Saga Land suggests – there is a great deal of information about flora and fauna alongside geological observations and general landscape description – its choice nevertheless points towards the idea that Russell saw the sagas as Iceland’s defining characteristic. This is clearly communicated towards the end of the book where, after describing Vatnsdalur in the north and sketching the associations of characters and events in The Saga of the People of Vatnsdal with specific places around the area, he states: It is a knowledge of the Sagas and the legends that spread the charm over this valley, that leads one from the present to the past by a jump backwards of many centuries. To visit Iceland, especially the Saga Dales, in ignorance of their history would be like tramping through Scotland without any acquaintance with Sir Walter Scott, or a sojourn in London without a knowledge of Dickens.37

‘Children of thy Vinland’ In one respect, however, all of the American authors were saga pilgrims: they all retraced the routes followed by Leif Eiriksson, Thorfinn Karlsefni, and others whose voyages west across the Atlantic and along the eastern seaboard of North America are described in Eirik the Red’s Saga (Eiríks saga rauða) and The Saga of the Greenlanders (Grænlendinga saga). The significance attributed in these travelogues to the Vinland sagas (as mediated through Rafn, Beamish, and later Anderson) is great from the start and only increases over the course of the nineteenth century. Miles, after introducing the sagas as a genre to his readers in a chapter about Iceland’s discovery and settlement, declares the Vinland sagas to be the ‘most important’ of them all, recording as they do ‘with a good deal of minuteness the “ante-Columbian discovery of America”’.38 Browne, sketching his first impressions of Iceland from the sea, refers to the Vestmannaeyjar and uses these islands as a visual prompt for mention of Columbus, and the earlier Icelandic explorations to the west.39 The Vinland saga narratives play an especially important part in Taylor’s, Kneeland’s, and Headley’s 1874 millennial-inspired accounts. As well as the inclusion of lengthy paraphrases of the saga material, the Vinland sagas are used to construct and e­ mphasise the

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

148

Landscapes and cultural memory

bond between America and Iceland in a number of ways. Describing an exchange with assembled Icelanders at Geysir, Taylor – who is otherwise not particularly interested in the sagas – claims that after a slow conversational start, the farmers open up when he mentions their literary heritage. When asked if they know ‘who first discovered America’, they reply: ‘It was Leif, the son of Erik the Red … About the year 1000 … They called the country Vinland.’40 ‘We know it’, affirms Taylor, ‘I am a Vinlander’: the connection between nations is forged and Taylor describes how the Icelanders ‘silently stretched out their hands and shook mine’.41 A poem composed by Taylor (who was dubbed the ‘Skald from America’), and recited by him at the millennial festivities as a tribute on behalf of the American party, also demonstrates the romanticisation of perceived genealogical and ideological connections between the two countries and their people – or at any rate, between Icelanders and the white, colonial part of the American population.42 The first three stanzas read: We come, the children of thy Vinland, The youngest of the world’s high peers, O land of steel, and song, and saga, To greet thy glorious thousand years! Across that sea the son of Erik Dared with his venturous dragon’s prow; From the shores where Thorfinn set thy banner, Their latest children seek thee now. Hail, mother-land of skalds and heroes, By love of freedom hither hurled, Fire in their hearts as in the mountains, And strength like thine to shake the world!43

The poem was, apparently, very well received. Kneeland goes as far as to say that it ‘probably gave more satisfaction to the people than any other feature of the ceremonies of the day’, and the reason for this, according to him, is the bond that Americans and Icelanders share with regard to ‘republican independence’.44 Political and ideological parallels between Americans and Icelanders, and American and Icelandic history, are drawn throughout the 1874 American travel books. They build rhetorically on the paradigm of settlement narrative found in the sagas whereby the original land-takers were Norwegian chieftains or other high-status and independent-minded individuals, not slaves

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

Iceland travel books 1854−1914

149

or other minorities. In Headley, for example, the original settlers of Iceland are called the ‘Norway Pilgrims’, Ingolf Arnarson’s ship is the ‘“Mayflower” of 874’, Iceland’s first law-speaker, Ulfljot, is ‘this Jefferson of the tenth century’, and Thingvellir and its Almannagjá gorge are ‘this Capitol of [Iceland’s] national Congress’.45 Kneeland, similarly, notes Thingvellir to be ‘holy ground’ and compares the Law-rock there (Lögberg) with Bunker Hill, site of a battle fought in 1775 between British and American forces during the American War of Independence: We looked at the Logberg as we would at Bunker Hill, as consecrated by their stern efforts for independence and justice; and an American could not fail to admire the courage of these old Norsemen, and to feel pity for their subsequent loss of liberty; and the more, as Iceland and New England are, as far as I know, the only two great republics founded on a love of civil and religious liberty, free from the sordid motive of love of gain and power.46

Moreover, the Icelanders’ literary achievements are represented as coterminous with their perceived spirit of ancient independence and love of liberty, together with their stoical endurance of h ­ ardships – environmental as well as political and economic. Direct comparison on this basis is made with the (colonial) population of America, and indigenous Americans are again written out of the picture in this racist historical model. Miles, for example, writes that from earliest times to the present, ‘the intelligence, activity, prosperity, and happiness of the people, and the rise and progress of the arts and sciences among them, has been exactly proportioned to the liberal and republican spirit of their government’. Hardship is believed to engender superiority in all respects, and ‘[t]hrown on their own resources, in a cold and dreary climate, the same causes operated in raising up a vigorous, moral, and intellectual people, that was shown in the history of our own Pilgrim Fathers’.47 The same sentiments are taken up and developed in Kneeland as justification for the visit to Iceland in 1874 – with America’s achievements foregrounded. At a time when preparations for the centenary of national independence in America were being made, ‘we naturally call to mind the great advance of our country and of the world in that century – political, educational, financial, social, and religious – in which America has taken a most prominent and honorable part’.48 Why should Iceland publish its millennial celebrations to the nations? Kneeland asks rhetorically. His answer:

150

Landscapes and cultural memory

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

It has done much for liberty, the advance of knowledge, and the preservation of historic records; and at a time when other more favored nations were stationary or going back to the darkness of ignorance and superstition, – and under conditions of isolation and hardship, which prove that man is superior to his surroundings, and that misery cannot stifle the aspirations of liberty, nor degrade a poetic and heroic race.49

Leifsland Conditions of isolation and hardship in Iceland in the century preceding the millennial celebrations had impelled Icelanders to look to the west again at the opportunities for building new lives that might be found in America. A handful of Icelanders emigrated in the 1850s, and the 1870s saw the first of several large waves of migration.50 Icelanders already in America in 1874 held commemorative events in Milwaukee, New York, Ithaca, and Chicago; Taylor and Kneeland mention the parallel millennial celebrations in their accounts, and Headley describes the occasion at length, printing the text of speeches delivered at the meetings.51 This newest chapter of the grand narrative about the movement of (free) people from east to west and west to east across the Atlantic is framed using much of the same Vinland-saga-referenced and romantic rhetoric illustrated above. Kneeland, for example, notes that Icelanders building a new settlement in the Red River Valley ‘will probably call their settlement “Leifsland,” in honour of Leif Erikson, who came to America in the year 1000’.52 The paradigmatic symmetry here – and the ideology underpinning or e­ mbedded in it – was, presumably, too attractive to resist. Travel narratives about Iceland produced by visitors to the Atlantic island are one of various sources that document a longstanding interest in Iceland from the outside. These narratives comprise an important and considerable body of evidence if, inevitably, a singularly subjective one: a central tenet of scholarship about travel writing emphasises the fact that travelogues invariably communicate much more about their authors and their culturally shaped expectations than they do about their ostensible geographical subject.53 This has been shown to be true of travel writing on Iceland time and again;54 conclusions with regard to the American accounts of travel in Iceland examined here present no exceptions to this rule. ‘Travelling and storytelling are fundamental to human existence, yet the ways in which they work together are

Table 8.1  Travellers to Iceland mentioned or cited by the American authors under focus in this chapter Traveller (date of visit)

Miles

Browne

Stephens

Taylor

Kneeland

Headley

Russell

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

British and American Sir Joseph Banks (1772) Sir John T. Stanley (1789) Sir George S. Mackenzie (1810) Sir Henry Holland (1810) William Jackson Hooker (1809) Ebenezer Henderson (1814–15) John Barrow (1834) Pliny Miles (1852) Lord Dufferin (1856) Charles Forbes R.N. (1859) Frederick Metcalfe (1860) Sabine Baring-Gould (1862) Bayard Taylor (1874) Samuel E. Waller (1872) John Coles (1881) Elizabeth J. Oswald (1875/1878) Frederick Howell (1890–91) Nelson Annandale (1896–1903) D. Hugh Scott

x x x x x

x

x x x x x [x]

x x [x]

x x x x x x

x x

x x x

x x

x

x x x

x x x x x x x x (Continued)

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

Table 8.1  Continued Traveller (date of visit)

Miles

Browne

Stephens

Taylor

Kneeland

Headley

Russell

Other nationalities Pálsson and Ólafsson (1752–57) Uno von Troil (1772) Paul Gaimard (1835–36) Ida Pfeiffer (1845) Daniel Bruun Stefán Stefánsson

x x x x

x

x x x

Table 8.2  Scholars mentioned or cited by the American authors under focus in this chapter

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

Scholars Rasmus Anderson North Ludlow Beamish Cleasby and Vigfússon B. F. de Costa George W. Dasent Willard Fiske William & Mary Howitt Alexander von Humboldt Samuel Laing Henry W. Longfellow Benson J. Lossing Paul-Henri Mallet Finnur Magnússon George P. Marsh Morris and Magnússon P. A. Munch P. E. Müller Carl Christian Rafn Rasmus Rask Henry Wheaton

Miles

Browne

Stephens

Taylor

Kneeland

Headley

x

x

Russell

x x x x

x x x x x

x

x

x x x x

x x

x x x x

x x x

x

x

x x

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

154

Landscapes and cultural memory

highly complex, involving all sorts of stages between perception, experience, narration and reception’, observes Tim Youngs in The Cambridge Introduction to Travel Writing.55 Just as the medieval saga authors manipulated their sources and tailored their narratives to ideological ends – the literary construction of an Icelandic origin myth – so, too, are the American writers discussed here selective and biased with regard to the treatment of their sources, their handling of narrative material (especially the Vinland sagas), the shading that they give to their descriptions of Iceland, and the prominence of the figure of the American tourist in the landscape. Identifying the rhetorical strategies that these American authors employ in their works in order to assert the connections between America (or their privileged and white conception of it) and Iceland (or their romanticised image of it as home to the freedom-loving, independent, and heroic Icelander) provides us, in turn, with insights into American attitudes, cultural expectations, and prejudices. ‘American identity is defined by contact with other people and other places’ is a claim made by the editors of The Cambridge Companion to American Travel Writing.56 As far as the accounts under scrutiny here are concerned, we certainly gain a much stronger sense of how American identity was constructed at this time, by this social class of American at any rate, than we do a ‘true’ picture of Iceland – if any such thing could be said to exist. Notes  1 Pliny Miles, Norðurfari, or, Rambles in Iceland (New York: Charles B. Norton, 1854), p. 34.  2 Accounts of travel in Iceland by Canadians and South Americans seem to be rare and none published in the time period covered in this essay are known to me. For overviews of British travel books on Iceland, see Gary Aho, ‘“Með Ísland á heilanum”: Íslandsbækur breskra ferðalanga 1772 til 1897’, trans. Jón Karl Helgason, Skírnir, 167 (1993), 205–58. The English version is accessible online: Gary Aho, ‘Iceland on the Brain: British Travellers to Iceland from 1772 to 1897’, William Morris Archive, http://morrisedition.lib.uiowa.edu/ Aho.IcelandonBrain.pdf, last accessed 21 February 2019. See also Andrew Wawn, The Vikings and the Victorians: Inventing the North in Nineteenth-Century Britain (Cambridge: D. S. Brewer, 2000), pp. 283–311. For bibliographical details of descriptions ­published in other countries, see Haraldur Sigurðsson, Ísland í skrifum erlendra manna um þjóðlíf og náttúru landsins. Ritaskrá. Writings of Foreigners Relating to the Nature and People of Iceland. A Bibliography (Reykjavík:

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

Iceland travel books 1854−1914

155

Landsbókasafn Íslands, 1991), Recent book-length studies include Marion Lerner, Von der ödesten und traurigsten Gegend zur Insel der Träume: Islandsreisebücher im touristischen Kontext (Munich: Herbert Utz Verlag, 2015); Sumarliði R. Ísleifsson, Tvær eyjar á j­aðrinum: Ímyndir Íslands og Grænlands frá miðöldum til miðrar 19. aldar (Reykjavík: Háskólaútgáfan, 2015); Karen Oslund, Iceland Imagined: Nature, Culture, and Storytelling in the North Atlantic (Seattle: University of Washington Press, 2011).  3 As well as political and social change, this was also a time of great technological advances: several of the travelogues discussed here mention the laying of the first trans-Atlantic telegraph cable. See Wawn, The Vikings and the Victorians, pp. 283–4.  4 For discussion about how to define the genre, and whether fictional or second-hand accounts of travel can be designated travel writing proper, see, for example, Carl Thompson, Travel Writing (London and New York: Routledge, 2011), pp. 9–33.  5 In 1893, on the occasion of four hundred years since Columbus’s arrival in America, the Chicago Columbian Exposition also opened to the general public. See Amy Mulligan’s chapter 6 in this volume.  6 On Iceland’s fight for independence, see, for example, Guðmundur Hálfdanarson, ‘Severing the ties – Iceland’s journey from a union with Denmark to a nation-state’, Scandinavian Journal of History, 31 (2006), 237–54.  7 Gísli Sigurðsson, ‘Vík er Paradísu lík’, Lesbók Morgunblaðsins (13 November 1993), pp. 4–6 (4). Travel to Iceland was certainly not without danger, as Wawn discusses in The Vikings and the Victorians, p. 284.  8 Miles, Norðurfari, pp. 123, 312.  9 See further David C. Smith, Studies in the Land: The Northeast Corner (London and New York: Routledge, 2002), p. 111. 10 See David C. Smith and Harold W. Borns, ‘Louis Agassiz, the Great Deluge, and early Maine geology’, Northeastern Naturalist, 7:2 (2000), 157–77 (174). 11 Alfred Bendixen, ‘American travel books about Europe before the Civil War’, in Alfred Bendixen and Judith Hamera (eds), The Cambridge Companion to American Travel Writing (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2009), pp. 103–26 (118). Bendixen notes, however, that while Taylor’s writings ‘capture some of the thrill of visiting foreign lands’, they offer ‘little more than superficial description along with the conventional patriotic and anti-Catholic assessments’ (p. 118). 12 See Kristín Bragadóttir, Willard Fiske: Vinur Íslands og velgjörðarmaður (Reykjavík: Háskólaútgáfan: 2008), p. 36. Taylor was also a friend of Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, who composed a memorial poem for him that was published in his 1882 collection Ultima Thule.

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

156

Landscapes and cultural memory

13 Phineas Camp Headley, The Island of Fire, or, A Thousand Years of the Old Northmen’s Home, 874–1874 (Boston: Lee and Shepard; New York: Charles T. Dillingham, 1874), p. 5. 14 This is according to an obituary, ‘W. S. C. Russell’, New England Cra­ ftsman, 14:1 (1918), p. 30, which also notes that Russell was a Mason. 15 Miles, Norðurfari, p. xv. 16 John Ross Browne, The Land of Thor (New York: Harper & Brothers, 1867), p. 384. The opening up of travel opportunities lays bare chauvinistic attitudes, too: ‘When a Parisian lady of rank visits Spitzbergen, and makes the overland journey from the North Cape to the Gulf of Bothnia, of what avail is it for any gentleman of elegant leisure to leave his comfortable fireside? We tourists who are ambitious to see the world in an easy way need but sit in our cushioned chair, cosily smoking our cigar, while some enterprising lady puts a girdle round about the earth’: Browne, The Land of Thor, p. 384. Female travellers did visit Iceland in the nineteenth and early twentieth ­centuries – Russell dedicated his volume to his wife, Grace, who ‘twice courageously accompanied me over Icelandic trails’, and stated his reliance on Elizabeth Jane Oswald’s By Fell and Fjord, or, Scenes and Studies in Iceland (Edinburgh and London: W. Blackwood and Sons, 1882); W[aterman] S[paulding] C[hapman] Russell, Iceland: Horseback Tours in Saga Land (Boston: Richard G. Badger; Toronto: Copp Clark, 1914), frontmatter. But these women were a minority; I have not come across any accounts of travel to Iceland published by American women during the seventy-year period covered here. 17 Other members of the party included a son of the British Prime Minister William Ewart Gladstone, William H. Gladstone, and the Icelandic scholar Eiríkur Magnússon. Magnússon had emigrated to England but returned home to cover the millennial festival for The Times newspaper; his reports were published on 17 and 19 August 1874. Details about others who attended from abroad are included in Headley, The Island of Fire, pp. 280–1. 18 An overview of the millennial events in Iceland (and beyond), with the text of speeches and poems composed for the occasion, is given in Brynleifur Tobíasson, Þjóðhátíðin 1874 (Reykjavík: Bókaútgáfa Menningarsjóðs og Þjóðvinafélagsins, 1958). On national celebrations and the significance of Thingvellir see, for example, Kolbeinn Óttarsson Proppé, ‘Hetjudýrkun á hátíðarstundu. Þjóðhátíðir og viðhald þjóðernisvitundar’, in Jón Yngvi Jóhannsson, Kolbeinn Óttarsson Proppé, and Sverrir Jakobsson (eds), Þjóðerni í þúsund ár? (Reykjavík: Háskólaútgáfan, 2003), pp. 151–65; and Kristín Loftsdóttir and Katrín Anna Lund, ‘Þingvellir: commodifying the “heart” of Iceland’, in Graham Huggan and Lars Jensen (eds), Postcolonial Perspectives on the European High North: Unscrambling the Arctic (New York: Macmillan, 2016), pp. 117–41.

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

Iceland travel books 1854−1914

157

19 See, for instance, Emily Brady, ‘The sublime, ugliness and “terrible beauty” in Icelandic landscapes’, in Karl Benediktsson and Katrín Anna Lund (eds), Conversations with Landscapes (Farnham: Ashgate, 2010), pp. 125–36. 20 Four decades later, the Zoëga family is still in the tourist business: Russell’s trip is outfitted by Helgi Zoëga, and he is guided by Helgi’s uncle Jóhannes. 21 Kneeland states: ‘Almost every traveller who has been to Iceland, and has published any account thereof, gives examples of these sagas’: Samuel Kneeland, An American in Iceland: An Account of its Scenery, People, and History (Boston: Lockwood, Brooks, and Company, 1876), p. 236. 22 Miles, Norðurfari, p. 50. 23 Charles Asbury Stephens, Off to the Geysers, or, The Young Yachters in Iceland. As Recorded by ‘Wade’, The Camping Out Series 3 (Philadelphia, Chicago, Toronto: John C. Winston Co., 1873), p. 2. 24 Browne, The Land of Thor, p. 517. 25 An Englishman Browne meets is portrayed as a rather eccentric scholar who ‘seemed to be telling himself some interminable story from one of the Sagas’: Browne, The Land of Thor, p. 531. 26 See further Martin Graebe, ‘Foreword’, in Sabine Baring-Gould, Iceland: Its Scenes and Sagas (Oxford: Signal Books, 2007), pp. xiv−xl (xxiii). 27 Browne, The Land of Thor, p. 386. 28 ‘“Padre” said Mr. Briggs to me … “You have promised us a story from some of the musty old Icelandic Sagas; you had better tell us one now” … “I shall be glad to comply with your request,” I answered, “as I wish much to introduce you to my hero Grettir, and it is necessary that you should know something about him before visiting the scenes of his great deeds”’: Sabine Baring-Gould, Iceland: Its Scenes and Sagas (London: Smith & Elder, 1863), p. 8. 29 Stephens, Off to the Geysers, p. 135. 30 Stephens, Off to the Geysers, p. 136. 31 The phrase ‘mouldy sagas’ (Stephens, Off to the Geysers, p. 65), for example, echoes Mr Briggs’ formulation ‘the musty old Icelandic Sagas’ (Baring-Gould, Iceland: Its Scenes and Sagas, p. 8); and there is also the fact that all other sagas mentioned by name by Stephens – ‘the Saga af Asmundr, Viking, and the Gretla saga, and the Saga af Ambrosia ok Rosamanda’ (Stephens, Off to the Geysers, p. 133) – are named by Baring-Gould in Iceland: Its Scenes and Sagas (pp. 145 and 223–4). Stephens probably also drew on Lord Dufferin’s Letters From High Latitudes (published 1857) and Frederick Metcalfe’s An Oxonian in Iceland (published 1861): both of these books are named as reading-material the Young Yachters have with them (Stephens, Off to the Geysers, p. 17).

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

158

Landscapes and cultural memory

32 Headley’s lack of familiarity with Icelandic topography (as well as his sometimes shaky command of saga narratives) is repeatedly betrayed by scrambled references to places or misunderstandings with regard to the distance between them. Plates from Iceland: Its Scenes and Sagas are reproduced as well as text, sometimes with dubious captions that indicate Headley did not have personal experience of the places he describes: Baring-Gould’s etching ‘In Öxnadalr’ is reproduced with the caption ‘Crater-chasm’ in The Island of Fire, for example, and used to illustrate the landscape near Hafnarfjörður: Headley, The Island of Fire, p. 239. 33 Baring-Gould, Iceland: Its Scenes and Sagas, p. 41; the singing American must be Browne. 34 Headley, The Island of Fire, p. 122. 35 Headley, The Island of Fire, p. 123; see Baring-Gould, Iceland: Its Scenes and Sagas, pp. 47–53. Headley also quotes Baring-Gould’s retelling of The Saga of Grettir verbatim in The Island of Fire, pp. 133–207 (chapters 17 to 20). 36 Russell, Iceland: Horseback Tours, pp. 182–3. 37 Russell, Iceland: Horseback Tours, p. 267. 38 Miles, Norðurfari, p. 35. 39 ‘The chief interest attached to the Westmann group is, that it is supposed to have been visited by Columbus in 1477, fifteen years prior to his voyage of discovery to the shores of America … It is now generally conceded that the Icelanders were the original discoverers of the American continent … Columbus in all probability obtained some valuable data from these hardy adventurers’: Browne, The Land of Thor, p. 428. The same assumption is repeated in Stephens, Off to the Geysers, p. 25. 40 Bayard Taylor, Egypt and Iceland in the Year 1874 (New York: G. P. Putnam’s Sons, 1874), p. 248. 41 Taylor, Egypt and Iceland, p. 249. The passage in its wider context is representative of the kind of patronising and denigrating foreign attitudes towards Icelanders (and subscription to theories of ‘primitive’ races more generally) that are found in many travel books on Iceland: the Icelanders are ‘rude’ and ‘apathetic’ though Taylor sees ‘tenderness, goodness, knowledge, and desire for knowledge’ behind this rough exterior. He claims that ‘to meet them was like being suddenly pushed back to the thirteenth century; for all the rich, complex, later-developed life of the race has not touched them’: Taylor, Egypt and Iceland, p. 249. 42 Taylor (Egypt and Iceland, pp. 221–3) recounts the circumstances surrounding his composition of the poem in his book. Kneeland (An American in Iceland, pp. 77–80) and Headley (The Island of Fire, pp. 288–9) both include the poem in their books, quoting from Taylor’s description of the occasion. A translation into Icelandic was made at

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

Iceland travel books 1854−1914

159

the time by Matthías Jochumsson and the poem − in English and Icelandic − had a wide circulation in print following its oral delivery. 43 Taylor, Egypt and Iceland, pp. 221–2. 44 Kneeland, An American in Iceland, p. 80. 45 Headley, The Island of Fire, at pp. 36, 39, 42, 48. 46 Kneeland, An American in Iceland, p. 131. 47 Miles, Norðurfari, pp. 41–2. 48 Kneeland, An American in Iceland, p. vi. 49 Kneeland, An American in Iceland, p. vi. 50 For an overview see, for example, Jonas Thor, Icelanders in North America: The First Settlers (Winnipeg: University of Manitoba Press, 2002). 51 Headley, The Island of Fire, pp. 312−28 (chapter 29). 52 Kneeland, An American in Iceland, p. 293. 53 See, for example, Thompson, Travel Writing, p. 10. 54 For a recent example, see Guðmundur Hálfdanarson, ‘An English gentleman visits two “rude islands”: John Barrow Jnr in early ­nineteenth-century Iceland and Ireland’, in Christopher Maginn and Gerald Power (eds), Frontiers, States and Identity in Early Modern Ireland and Beyond: Essays in Honour of Steven G. Ellis (Dublin: Four Courts Press, 2016), pp. 205–20. 55 Tim Youngs, The Cambridge Introduction to Travel Writing (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2013), p. 14. 56 Alfred Bendixen and Judith Hamera, ‘Introduction: new worlds and old lands – the travel book and the construction of American identity’, in Alfred Bendixen and Judith Hamera (eds), The Cambridge Companion to American Travel Writing (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2009), pp. 1–10 (5).

9 The good sense to lose America: Vinland as remembered by Icelanders Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

Simon Halink

In an ironic vein, Oscar Wilde reportedly once said something along the lines that the Icelanders were the most ingenious people in the world, for not only did they discover America, they also had ‘the good sense to lose it again’. Like others before me, I have failed to locate the original source of this quotation.1 But the fact that it can be found on a great number of websites and is repeated over and over again in the (Icelandic) media is in itself more relevant than the question of the quotation’s authenticity. Its popularity may indicate that it resonates – in a sarcastic manner – with the way Leif Eiriksson’s discovery and subsequent loss of the new continent is experienced by Icelanders today. An interesting point of departure is the fact that the Norse settlement of Vinland was, in fact, a failure. In the words of the Icelandic historian Gunnar Karlsson: ‘Most of us would be rather surprised that the aggressive and land-hungry Viking Age Norsemen gave up their attempts to utilise the endless source of wealth which they had discovered in America.’2 But that is exactly what happened; the Norsemen retreated to Greenland and Iceland, and ‘Vínland became only a saga’.3 However, in Iceland, a saga is hardly ever ‘only’ a saga, or a nice story for entertainment’s sake; saga literature is a vital source of collective identity and national pride. Even if the central plot of the Vinland sagas revolves around a failed attempt to colonise new land, defeat can be transformed into a higher form of moral victory. In this essay, I will explore the various ways in which the story of Vinland has been framed in the cultural memory of Icelanders on both sides of the Atlantic. I will focus on a limited selection of written sources – particularly popular histories and retellings of the Vinland voyages, but also more creative treatments of the subject matter in poetry and addresses – from the late nineteenth century and first half of the twentieth century, when new ideas on Icelandic

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

Vinland as remembered by Icelanders

161

nationhood emerged in the spirit of the island’s ­ independence movement. Icelandic interpretations of Vinland will be analysed in the first part, but the main focus of this essay lies in the significance Vinland acquired to Icelandic immigrants in Canada. I will compare the ideas of Icelanders in Iceland to those of the so-called ‘Western Icelanders’ in the New World and analyse the differences between them, using the theoretical concept of territorial kinship as defined by Athena S. Leoussi and Steven Grosby.4 Was the Icelandic approach to Vinland on the western side of the Atlantic markedly different from that of the Icelanders who stayed at home? And if so, what does this tell us about the construction of national self-images at home and abroad? A failure to be proud of It has been speculated that the Icelandic conception of time differs remarkably from that of other Western nations. When the German legal historian Konrad Maurer (1823–1902) visited the island in the mid-nineteenth century, he was stunned by the tenderness and affection with which modern Icelandic farmers and fishermen spoke about their nation’s most distant past. In his travelogue, Maurer notes that the locals held on to ancient folk tales and sagas as precious relics from a more glorious age, which stood in stark contrast to the miserable conditions in which the poor islanders found themselves during his visit. This painful contrast – according to Maurer – rendered the Icelanders more acutely aware of their former glory and nourished a collective attachment to the past which was stronger there than in other countries.5 In her studies on the ‘Icelandic world’, the Danish anthropologist Kirsten Hastrup has labelled the peculiar image of the Viking and medieval past as cherished by modern Icelanders uchronia (‘no-time’), which should be understood as the temporal equivalent of the spatial concept of utopia: an idealisation of the national narrative, essentially detached from historical time and hence eternal and ­immediately applicable in the present.6 In this national narrative, based on an idealised image of the island’s earliest history, the genre of medieval saga literature commonly known as the Sagas of Icelanders (Íslendingasögur) ­ takes centre stage. This body of narratives is particularly cherished because it contains accounts of Iceland’s settlement (landnám) in the Viking Age and the early development of the country’s society and political institutions (especially the Althing:

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

162

Landscapes and cultural memory

the general assembly that first met in session in AD 930). During Iceland’s campaign for independence from Denmark in the nineteenth and early ­twentieth centuries, these sagas were cultivated as ‘national literature’ and interpreted as testimonies of a golden age before the loss of independence (1262) and the consequent decline of the nation’s prestige.7 The two Vinland sagas are generally considered Sagas of Icelanders as well, but since their subject matter is less concerned with Iceland than it is with Greenland and Vinland, they form something of a subcategory less relevant to the national sentiments of modern Icelanders. As the prolific Icelandic scholar and author Sigurður Nordal (1886–1974) notes in Íslenzk menning, his seminal 1942 study on Icelandic culture, the Vinland voyages ‘as well as the emigration to Greenland are of minor importance’ in Icelandic history, even though they had attracted much attention elsewhere in ‘recent centuries’.8 This is a reasonable conclusion, since references to Vinland are indeed rather sparse in textbooks and standard works on Icelandic history and culture.9 The apparent lack of interest in Vinland may be a result of the special brand of Icelandic nationalism propagated by Nordal himself; his characterisation of Icelandic nationhood is based on notions of natural determinism and an organic conception of the link between a nation and the land it lives on. His writings are littered with metaphors from the natural world; a nation can only flourish when its seed falls on fertile soil, which is exactly what happened when the Nordic settlers reached Iceland. According to Nordal, ‘Iceland was in many ways suited to the tastes of vikings. … The geographical position and size of Iceland made it easy for the inhabitants to order their affairs without interference from other nations and for every farmer to become king over his own small domain.’10 This very spatially defined concept of nationhood has been referred to as ‘territorial kinship’, and entails ‘a symbolic representation of a territory such that, when acknowledged and thereby incorporated as part of the understanding of the self, a territorial relation … is posited over time’.11 The centrality of this territorial relation in Nordal’s grand narrative places the emphasis squarely on Iceland and the exploits of Icelanders in Iceland, rather than on the exploits of Vikings in Greenland or Vinland. Nordal’s views on these matters are of great significance, since his popular writings on Icelandic history and culture would come to determine, to a large extent, the way Icelanders conceive of their own past to this very day. He spent most of his active life tirelessly

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

Vinland as remembered by Icelanders

163

disseminating his philological ideas and was immensely successful in promoting his nationalistic take on the Icelandic origins of Old Norse-Icelandic literature in his function as general editor of the influential Íslenzk fornrit series of modern Icelandic editions of Old Norse-Icelandic literature, between 1933 and 1951.12 And just as his philological ideas retained a hegemonic position throughout the twentieth century, so too did his views on Icelandic history. According to Nordal, the geographical conditions have to be just right for a certain nation to take root. In his interpretation, the settlements of both Greenland and Vinland were failed experiments, albeit failures on a monumental scale; he describes the Vinland settlement as ‘an event unparalleled in the subsequent history of Iceland’, and a point at which the Icelanders ‘narrowly missed a chance to alter the course of world history’.13 Nordal sees little use in ‘tampering with the generally accepted view’ that it was Leif who discovered America and admits that the whole issue is of little importance; since the Icelandic settlement in Greenland was situated on the west coast, ‘sooner or later some ship was almost inevitably bound to be carried off course towards the shores of North America’.14 This rather prosaic statement does away with all the heroism and patriotic teleology characteristic of many North American portrayals of the same event, treated elsewhere in this volume. And Nordal’s matter-of-factness does not stop there; in his assessment of the contention between Norwegians and Icelanders in North America on the matter of who deserves most credit for the Vinland voyages, he takes a dispassionate intermediary position by pointing out that the whole controversy is rather ‘vainglorious’ and nonsensical from the tenth-century perspective. Iceland had been settled by Scandinavians, and since Icelanders were merely the heirs of the mainland-Scandinavians in terms of shipbuilding and seafaring, the credit for the discovery belongs to both Icelanders and Norwegians.15 Nordal’s willingness to share credit for the Vinland voyages with the Norwegians may come across as somewhat unpatriotic, but his continuous emphasis on the idea that things start to go downhill as soon as ‘foreign interference’ occurs in Icelandic affairs is quite typical of the Icelandic nationalism of the time at which Íslenzk menning was published, only two years before Iceland became an independent republic in 1944. As with so much in Nordal’s deterministic approach to history, the settlement in Vinland was simply bound to fail, just as the settlement of Iceland was destined to become a big success. Nordal links the loss of Vinland to the ‘active

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

164

Landscapes and cultural memory

hostility’ of the native inhabitants (skrælings) and to the decline of Iceland’s greatness and independence.16 But it could have been prevented if only the Scandinavians had chosen the path of cooperation, rather than internal rivalry. This emphasis on Nordic cooperation should be seen in the light of Nordal’s own time, and tells us much about his views on Iceland’s position in Scandinavia once it (re)established its independence; valuable lessons could be learned from the past, and understanding the causes of Vinland’s demise could prevent the Icelanders from missing out on ‘golden opportunities’ in the future. We are no skrælings! The term ‘skræling’ was derived from the medieval sagas themselves (Old Norse: skrælingi, plural: skrælingjar), and served as a derogatory term for the ‘primitive’ and ‘uncivilised’ native inhabitants of both Greenland and Vinland. This stereotype gained special significance in Iceland’s national discourse during the nineteenth century, when Icelandic intellectuals felt the need to emphasise their country’s status as a civilised, cultured, Western, and Christian nation. In this discourse, the skræling could be conceptualised as a symbol of everything the Icelanders did not want to be mistaken for. In the 1870s, the poet and scholar Benedikt Sveinbjarnarson Gröndal (1826–1907) complained about the fact that foreigners often mistook Iceland for Greenland, thinking that it was a terra incognita et barbara which had nothing in common with the other Nordic nations. Little did they know that it was actually a nation of highly educated people who deserved their utmost respect.17 The skrælings were depicted as Iceland’s ‘significant others’, and the stronger the emphasis on the contrast between these two cultures, the stronger Iceland’s claim to civilised nationhood. Skrælings thus signified ‘otherness’ in a negative sense, and according to Sverrir Jakobsson, they ‘could be fitted into various conceptual frames that were constructed to account for other peoples different from the Nordic people’.18 Gröndal’s views were informed by the racial prejudice that was popular in the nineteenth and twentieth centuries, and resonated with the widespread myth of the purity of the Icelandic race. According to scholars like the philosopher Guðmundur Finnbogason (1873–1944), the Icelandic nation constituted a unique combination of Nordic and Celtic racial characteristics, which had – unlike most other races in Europe – remained unspoiled since the

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

Vinland as remembered by Icelanders

165

Age of the Settlement due to the island’s splendid isolation.19 Any form of friendship or peaceful co-existence with barbarian ‘nonwhites’ like the skrælings could potentially jeopardise this ethnic purity. The mixing of races was maybe not a bad thing per se, but it was certainly a risky form of ‘experiment’ with potentially dangerous consequences, according to Sigurður Nordal. He wonders in Íslenzk menning ‘what results may issue from Nature’s whim in bringing Negroes to America and casting them into the melting pot with the multitude of nationalities aggregated there’, and ­considers ‘the entire history of modern times marked by the result of that mixing of Germanic and Wendic tribes which occurred in centuries long past and gave rise to the Prussians’.20 Nordal does not elaborate on the potential outcome of mixing Icelandic and skræling blood, but his phantasies of a homogeneous Scandinavian North America leave little to the imagination. The antagonistic approach to the natives encountered by Leif and his companions – inspired by the Eurocentrism and AngloSaxonism of Victorian literature – is omnipresent in Icelandic accounts of the Vinland voyages, which render the skrælings largely responsible for the fact that the Norse settlement of America failed.21 In a popular Icelandic schoolbook from 1915, the persistent attacks on the fledgling community are described as far more destructive than the internal divisions that may have weakened the settlement from within. The skrælings far outnumbered the settlers and eventually forced them to return to Greenland, even though the settlers had better weapons and were – naturally – much braver than their adversaries.22 Nordal emphasised the ‘active hostility’23 of the natives, and according to Matthías Þórðarson (1877–1961), director of Iceland’s National Museum, they were ‘savage nomads’ who were ‘accustomed to internal warfare’.24 In his 1929 essay on the Vinland voyages, Þórðarson focuses primarily on the exploits of Thorfinn Karlsefni, who was ‘neither a Viking nor a warrior king’ and hence hardly the right person to establish a permanent Nordic presence in North America.25 Apart from the hostility of the ‘savage nomads’, Þórðarson identifies the decline of the heroic spirit of the Vikings, as well as a lack of aid from strong and established nations, as the main causes for the defeat of the settlers. He describes the nations that ‘stood behind Thorfinn’ as ‘small and, relatively speaking, poor. They had more land at their disposal than they could handle.’26 Surely the Danes and Swedes had colonised remote and challenging lands before, but none of those lands were an entire ocean away and, on top of

166

Landscapes and cultural memory

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

that, infested with tribes of hostile warriors. In Vinland ‘everything had to be taken out of a virgin soil’.27 Considering all the difficulties and hardships faced by the Norse settlers, Þórðarson finds it remarkable that Thorfinn and his companions managed to settle in America at all, no matter how short-lived the experiment may have been: Many centuries later the Europeans had to fight hard before they could form permanent settlements in the New World. It was not until the last century that some of the descendants of Thorfinn and his companions established colonies in that hemisphere to which Vinland the Good belongs, colonies that are larger in extent and population than would in all likelihood have been possible in Thorfinn’s time.28

When seen in the light of recent history, Thorfinn’s first attempt to conquer the New World becomes a rather impressive and heroic accomplishment, rather than just a failed experiment. Therefore Þórðarson considers it only natural that Thorfinn’s ‘descendants’ in North America still honoured his memory and in 1920 erected a bronze sculpture of him – from the hand of the Icelandic sculptor Einar Jónsson – in Philadelphia.29 The significance of the Vinland voyages to twentieth-century Americans of Scandinavian – and especially Icelandic – descent is further emphasised by the entertaining introduction to the Englishlanguage edition of Þórðarson’s book, written by the CanadianIcelandic ethnologist and Arctic explorer Vilhjálmur Stefánsson (1879–1962). In an ironic tone, Stefánsson ridicules the Vikings’ tendency to keep discovering things that had already been discovered by others before them; in their arrogance – comparable to that of the ancient Romans or the British of more recent history – they did not consider anything discovered until they had discovered it themselves, and ‘so they were not fabricating but rather speaking in tune with their time when they said that they discovered Iceland around 850 A. D.’.30 But although Iceland had been well known to the Irish long before the landnám, the discovery of Vinland was a different story all together; there is a strong sense of historical predestination in Stefánsson’s observation that ‘the New World, destined to become so peculiarly a home of republics, was … destined to a discovery by the citizens of a republic’.31 And the Icelanders’ republicanism was not the only foreshadowing of later American culture in the Vinland narrative; Stefánsson attributes Eirik the Red – who gave Greenland its pleasant name in order to

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

Vinland as remembered by Icelanders

167

attract more settlers – with a ‘genius for advertising that made him prophetically American’.32 Stefánsson was born in the town of Gimli in Manitoba, Canada, where his Icelandic parents had settled two years earlier. They were part of the large wave of Icelandic immigrants – roughly 20,000 in number, or one quarter of the island’s population – who, in the period between 1870 and 1915, left the harsh living conditions in their homeland behind in search of a more prosperous future elsewhere. Initially many of them would settle in the United States, but the main episode of the Icelandic diaspora began when they were granted their own ‘Free State’ at Lake Winnipeg in Manitoba, which would become known as ‘New Iceland’. However, the worries of the Western Icelanders (Vestur-Íslendingar, as the Icelandic émigrés are usually known in Icelandic) were far from over once they reached their new home; the community saw itself confronted with hunger, floods, smallpox epidemics, and winter temperatures of minus forty degrees Celsius. All these hardships nearly destroyed the small community, which would eventually overcome them all and retains its distinctly Icelandic identity to this day. In Leif’s footsteps The Icelandic immigrants found precedents and a narrative template for their settlement of a new and pristine land in their cherished Sagas of Icelanders and other medieval sources in which the heroic landnám of Iceland by Viking Age settlers from Northern Europe (in the ninth and early tenth centuries AD) is recounted. Upon arrival in the New World, the newcomers began their correspondences with family members and friends back in Iceland, seemingly motivated by the historical awareness that these letters would eventually amount to some sort of sequel to the medieval Book of Settlements (Landnámabók), recording the epic achievements of the first settlers (landnámsmenn).33 The ‘dynamics of immigration’34 form a key ingredient of Iceland’s national selfimage, and the heroic landnám narrative almost naturally became one of the dominant historical points of reference in the campaign to carve out a new existence and Icelandic identity on the other side of the Atlantic. It has been attested that the legislation and institutions created by the fledgling Icelandic community in Canada were modelled on examples from Iceland’s Viking and medieval past.35

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

168

Landscapes and cultural memory

However, of greater relevance even than the accounts of Iceland’s settlement were the two Vinland sagas, which linked the immigrants not only to their heroic past and the pioneering mentality of their ancestors, but also to the actual land they were now claiming for themselves. The great sentimental value of these stories is clearly expressed by S. J. Sommerville, who opened his address to the Historical and Scientific Society of Manitoba – delivered during its 1944–45 season – with the following words: When the Icelanders began to flock to this continent in the early seventies of the last century, the movement may be referred to as their ‘second coming’, for they did not come as strangers to a foreign shore. They came as a people who knew this land from a long way back because their forbears had found it many centuries before Columbus had explored its eastern shores; had tried to establish homes there; and had returned to it at intervals for several hundred years.36

The Vinland sagas supplied the Western Icelanders with a historical foothold in a strange and unfamiliar environment, and facilitated the construction of a territorial kinship ‘as part of the understanding of the [collective, Canadian-Icelandic] self’.37 The sagas – conceived as historical accounts of actual events rather than literature – served as a tool for familiarisation, or what we could call self-­indigenisation, and even justified a certain sense of superiority vis-à-vis settlers from other parts of Europe, who were considered merely late-comers in a grand narrative that presupposed a convenient historical continuity between Vinland and modern New Iceland. Given the centrality of this narrative in the Icelandic diaspora, it is surprising that, in the early stages of the Icelandic settlement at least, motifs from the Vinland sagas hardly ever occurred in original creative literature by Western Icelanders. Kirsten Wolf has argued convincingly that this might be due to the fact that the first generations of Icelandic immigrants were still too familiar with the sagas to require literary retellings or explanations of their contents.38 This collective familiarity with the general story of Vinland is reflected in the letters of Western Icelanders, in which their experiences in the New World are likened to episodes from the sagas. In a rather gloomy and ironic letter from 1876, for instance, one of the Western Icelanders – clearly disillusioned by the hardships of life in Manitoba – wonders what the motivation may have been behind naming the Icelanders’ main settlement Gimli, after the divine dwelling-place of the Norse god Balder in a new Asgard after Ragnarok: ‘However suitable the name Gimli

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

Vinland as remembered by Icelanders

169

may be here or whether it was first named as a joke, or in earnest, I do not know; perhaps it is for the same reason that Eric the Red named Greenland, saying that more would seek to go there if the name were attractive.’39 Although patriotic Icelanders back in the homeland – even intellectuals such as Benedikt Gröndal – criticised the emigrants for abandoning their native soil,40 it has been maintained that the decision to migrate to the New World was in fact often inspired by Icelandic nationalism and seen as an act of patriotism. To be sure, the idea of exploring new lands and harvesting their riches for the benefit of the community did resonate with the Viking ideals on which Iceland was believed to be founded. And many of the settlers’ insistence on establishing a purely Icelandic ethnic community, with its own independent political structure and ecclesiastical institutions, is indeed indicative of the group’s rootedness in Iceland’s national movement.41 In fact, the Western Icelanders could profile themselves as the true heirs of the Vikings, more heroic than those who stayed behind – just like the original landnámsmenn were considered infinitely more heroic than those who stayed behind in mainland Scandinavia. This sense of superiority visà-vis their homeland becomes evident in the self-congratulatory, patriotic poetry composed by Western Icelanders, in which they portray themselves – in the words of Wolf – as ‘modern Vikings endowed with the qualities of their forebears who had discovered Vinland; hardworking, thrifty, intensely democratic, devoted to their literature and their culture, capable of enduring adversity, able to fight hard when fighting is needed, and with an instinct not only for exploring new paths but also for building new communities’.42 The very zenith of this self-styled Viking identity was of course Leif Eiriksson, whose omnipresence among the Western Icelanders is indicated by the sheer number of things – everything from periodicals to clubs and festivals – named in his honour. Any public reference to Leif or Vinland – no matter how banal or prosaic – can be seen as a ‘silent proclamation’ of the community’s historical rootedness and formed part of the ‘ambient background noise’ that characterises modern nations.43 Next to providing the Western Icelanders with a sense of rootedness and familiarity with their new environment, the Vinland myth also gave the settlers a tool to distinguish themselves from all other ethnic communities in Canada. As mentioned earlier, the leadership of the settlement strove to establish a purely Icelandic ethnic ­community, which meant that its cultural boundaries had to be

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

170

Landscapes and cultural memory

clearly drawn and protected against influences and contaminations from those of ‘others’, sometimes aggressively so. This became very clear when the community’s cultural capital – mainly its monopoly on Norse and Viking heritage – was believed to be under threat from non-Icelanders, who tried to appropriate the material for their own national causes. Settlers from other Scandinavian countries – especially Norwegians and Swedes – also turned to Leif Eiriksson and the Vinland sagas to provide their presence in the New World with a historical dimension, making the matter of stressing Leif’s Icelandic-ness even more pressing in North America than in Iceland.44 In the editorial to the first issue of the Winnipegbased Icelandic periodical Leifur (1883–86), the editor Helgi Jónsson explains the newspaper’s title as an attempt to reclaim Leif for the Icelanders, since ‘it is most unfair not to let them have the honour which is truthfully theirs, and therefore I find it wrong of the Norwegians to take it entirely’ just because his father came from Norway. Unlike the Norwegians, the Icelanders could trace their lineage back to Leif and his men, and they had every right to be proud of that, according to Jónsson.45 Other Western Icelanders went further in their antagonism towards all the non-Icelanders they saw themselves surrounded by in the New World, and some even went so far as to label all non-Icelanders surrounding them – including all settlers from other parts of Europe – as inferior skrælings. This patriotic and xenophobic antagonism reaches a climax in the poetry of Guttormur J. Guttormsson (1878–1966), who was not a great fan of the then fashionable Anglo-Saxonism which claimed Leif for the ‘Anglo-Saxon’ Protestant Americans.46 However, this antagonistic approach was not the only possible interpretation of the Vinland legacy from a patriotic Canadian-Icelandic perspective; assimilation with the basic tenets of Anglo-Saxonism was another option. In the story ‘Jónatan’ by the Canadian-Icelandic pastor Hafsteinn Pjetursson (1858–1929), written for the occasion of the annual Icelandic Festival (Íslendingadagurinn) in Winnipeg in 1893 and published a few years later, the eponymous character Jónatan invites the first-person protagonist into his big and stately home. He states that Jónatan is merely his Christian name and that he is actually better known as Uncle Sam. The lofty and lavishly decorated hall of his mansion is big enough to contain all the foreigners who want to visit him, but the protagonist is led to a small, secret, and undecorated room that no one usually gets to see (except for ‘Saga’, who informs Uncle Sam about his history and

Vinland as remembered by Icelanders

171

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

ancestors). The protagonist is only allowed to come here because of his Icelandic roots. In order to demonstrate that his lineage is just as noble as that of ‘Miss Canada’ – where the protagonist comes from – Uncle Sam shows him a painting with several characters the protagonist instantly recognises as Old Norse: ‘This man over here,’ he [Uncle Sam] said, ‘is Leif the Lucky. He is the first settler of the United States. He is its first citizen. He acquired his citizenship by being the first man to cross the churning waves of the Atlantic Ocean and to discover this continent. … And the child over there is Snorri Þorfinnsson. He is the first “indigenous” citizen of the United States. Leif the Lucky and Snorri Þorfinnsson are my forefathers.’47

Uncle Sam then lists several more of his illustrious ancestors, including William the Conqueror and Cnut (Canute) the Great, concluding that he – that is, the United States – is ‘Nordic from his father’s and Anglo-Saxon from his mother’s side’.48 The ethnic construction presented here marries the Vinland myth to American Anglo-Saxonism in a profoundly Icelandic manner, namely by means of genealogy; the entanglement of Scandinavian and English bloodlines serves to emphasise the organic unity of all North Americans of British and northern European descent. Furthermore, Scandinavian immigrants can lay some claim to being ‘natives’ of America, since Snorri Thorfinnsson was the first ‘white man’ born on this side of the Atlantic. All this clearly comes as something of a surprise to Jónatan’s Icelandic guest, who wonders whether his host is not also partly of southern origin and wants to see a painting of Columbus as well. But, tellingly, Uncle Sam has no paintings of Columbus in this special room: He is not my forefather. He was never a citizen of the United States. He never set foot on my mainland. He is the forefather of those who live to the south of my border, and his settlement entails the whole southern part of this continent. Of course I love and treasure Columbus’s memory, and I owe him a great deal. It is thanks to his ocean voyages that my land was discovered anew.49

Clearly, Columbus can occupy no more than a mere supporting role in the greater story of America’s history. Of course he should be credited for having found the continent ‘anew’, but Uncle Sam does not consider him a true ancestor of his. This claim is historically founded on the fact that Columbus never actually set foot on North American soil, but the statement that his ‘southern blood’

172

Landscapes and cultural memory

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

does not run through Jónatan’s veins is actually far more telling and links this story firmly to the racism and anti-Catholic sentiments prevalent among white American Protestants at the time.50 The inconvenient historical discontinuity between Leif Eiriksson and America’s present population is simply ignored, and overruled by his status as Vinland’s discoverer and – retrospectively – the ‘first citizen’ of the United States. Conclusions Konrad Maurer’s aforementioned assertion that a collective attach­ment to the past is more noticeable among Icelanders than anyone else can be extended to the Icelandic communities of North America as well. The national narratives of both the Icelanders in Iceland and the Icelanders in Canada are characterised by a high level of uchronia, a strong identification with the Viking past and the dynamics of migration – linked to the landnám and Vinland narratives respectively. In Iceland, the territorial kinship typical of the popular nationalism around the turn of the twentieth century prevented too strong an emphasis on the sagas relating exploits of (Icelandic) Vikings beyond Iceland. This is evidenced by the written sources scrutinised in this chapter, but also – for instance – by the sculptures of famous Viking Age explorers in Reykjavík. Alexander Calder’s iconic statue of ‘Leif Eriksson’ – nowadays situated in front of the Hallgrímskirkja church – was a gift from the United States on the occasion of the Althing’s millennial celebration, and Einar Jónsson’s sculpture of Thorfinn Karlsefni is but a second casting of the work originally intended for – and still located in – Fairmount Park, Philadelphia. By contrast, Jónsson’s sculpture of Ingolf Arnarson, Iceland’s ‘first settler’ – and hence ‘symbol of the Icelandic national character’51 – was a purely Icelandic initiative, commissioned and financed by Icelanders themselves.52 Leif Eiriksson and the Vinland voyages have, however, gained importance in Iceland’s self-fashioning towards the outside world in recent years; they can be mobilised on the global stage to (over) compensate for Iceland’s minority complex vis-à-vis much larger nations, and even to establish some sort of cultural superiority visà-vis modern Americans as the nation that originally discovered their continent, centuries before Columbus. When this application of the Vinland story is used for marketing and branding purposes in the New World, it becomes painfully clear that most Icelanders appear utterly oblivious to the political, ethnic, and ideological

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

Vinland as remembered by Icelanders

173

sensitivities surrounding the concept of ‘Vinland’ in America.53 When an Icelandic beer producer decided to conquer the American market in the late 1960s, American marketing advisors advised against the name ‘Leif Erikson Beer’ because Americans of Spanish and Italian descent would never buy it. Instead, they settled for the more neutral and non-offensive name ‘Polar Beer’.54 In 1997, Ólafur Ragnar Grímsson, president of Iceland, praised the Vinland voyages during a visit to the United States as ‘a platform for examining the importance of discovery, the spirit of pioneers in our civilization and the forces that drive us to explore the unknown’, and urged Hollywood to produce a ‘film in the Pocahontas style about the first European boy born on this continent, the boy Snorri, the son of Leif Eiríksson’s sister-in-law’, claiming that this movie could ‘complement the film about the Native American girl Pocahontas as a source of inspiration for children’.55 Understandably, no ‘Icelandic Pocahontas’ was ever produced, and Grímsson was ridiculed for his lack of both political tact and insight into American – and Hollywood – culture.56 In the meanwhile, most Icelanders do not seem too concerned about Leif Eiriksson as part of their cultural heritage; when President Barack Obama used his Leif Erikson Day proclamation of 2015 to praise the contributions to American culture of Norwegian – rather than more generally ‘Nordic’ – settlers and their descendants, this may have been considered something of an outrage by a few, but it hardly caused any reaction in the Icelandic media.57 Things look very different for Icelanders on the other side of the Atlantic. The necessity to forge an ethnosymbolic link between a community and the land it inhabits – territorial kinship – naturally rendered the Vinland sagas a more potent narrative template to the Icelanders in Canada, which they applied to frame the experience of diaspora and migration. No other kind of community is more likely to cling to its ancestral heritage in order to position itself in a changing environment than a diasporic one; even when disconnected from the actual nation itself, ‘the nation remains the paramount space within which identity is located’.58 Like small pockets of self-ness, these communities are constantly adrift in an endless and unpredictable ocean of otherness. This experience of uprootedness calls for a process of continual reaffirmation of the group’s origins, and of adjusting the cultural heritage in such a way that it serves the specific needs connected to the process of ‘taking root’ in new lands without losing touch with the old. For the Western Icelanders, the Vinland sagas served as a way to

174

Landscapes and cultural memory

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

connect to their new land and to foster a sense of territorial kinship, superior to that of other European settlers. The old stories had to be appropriated anew – which is why Leif’s ‘Icelandic-ness’ becomes more important there than in Iceland – and reinvented, in order to incorporate the immigrant experience into the national narrative, and to position the group in the patchwork of ethnicities that is the New World. Notes  1 Gunnar Karlsson, Iceland’s 1100 Years: The History of a Marginal Society (London: Hurst & Company, 2000), p. 32.  2 Karlsson, Iceland’s 1100 Years, p. 32.  3 Karlsson, Iceland’s 1100 Years, p. 32, italics added.  4 Athena S. Leoussi and Steven Grosby, ‘Introduction’, in Athena S. Leoussi and Steven Grosby (eds), Nationalism and Ethnosymbolism: History, Culture and Ethnicity in the Formation of Nations (Edinburgh: Edinburgh University Press, 2007), pp. 1–11.  5 Konrad Maurer, Isländische Volkssagen der Gegenwart (Leipzig: Verlag der J.C. Hinrichs’schen Buchhandlung, 1860), p. v.  6 Kirsten Hastrup, ‘Uchronia and the two histories of Iceland, ­1400–1800’, in Kirsten Hastrup (ed.), Other Histories (London and New York: Routledge, 1992), pp. 102–20. See also: Simon Halink, ‘Icelandic perspectives’, in Jürg Glauser, Pernille Hermann, and Stephen Mitchell (eds), Handbook of Pre-Modern Nordic Memory Studies: Interdisciplinary Approaches, 2 vols (Berlin and New York: De Gruyter, 2018), vol. 1, pp. 805−10.  7 On the cultivation of national golden ages in the context of modern nationalism, see especially Anthony D. Smith, ‘The “Golden Age” and national renewal’, in Geoffrey A. Hosking and George Schöpflin (eds), Myths and Nationhood (London: Routledge, 1997), pp. 36−59.  8 Sigurður Nordal, Icelandic Culture, trans. Vilhjálmur T. Bjarnar (Ithaca: Cornell University Library, 1990), pp. 231−2. In the following I will refer to this translation. The Icelandic original is Sigurður Nordal, Íslenzk menning (Reykjavík: Mál og menning, 1942).  9 For example, the first volume of Jónas Jónsson’s popular and influential textbook Icelandic History for Children spends less than two pages in total on the discovery of Greenland and Vinland; Jónas Jónsson, Íslandssaga handa börnum, 2 vols (Reykjavík: Félagsprentsmiðjan, 1915−16), vol. 1, pp. 77−9. The philosopher and author Guðmundur Finnbogason virtually ignores the subject in his influential book Icelanders: Some Notes on the Description of a Nation; Guðmundur Finnbogason, Íslendingar: Nokkur drög að þjóðarlýsingu (Reykjavík: Bókadeild Menningarsjóðs, 1933).

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

Vinland as remembered by Icelanders

175

10 Nordal, Icelandic Culture, p. 48. 11 Leoussi and Grosby, ‘Introduction’, p. 6. 12 On Nordal’s influence on the image of Icelandic culture, see especially Jón Karl Helgason, ‘Hver á íslenska menningu? Frá Sigurði Nordal til Eddu – miðlunar og útgáfu’, Skírnir, 176 (Fall 2002), 401−22. 13 Nordal, Icelandic Culture, p. 229. For Nordal’s reflections on what ‘might have been’ if only the settlement had been successful, see p. 235. 14 Nordal, Icelandic Culture, p. 231. 15 Nordal, Icelandic Culture, p. 232. 16 Nordal, Icelandic Culture, pp. 230–1. 17 Benedikt Sveinbjarnarson Gröndal, ‘Frelsi – menntan – framför’, Gefn, 2:1 (1871), 1−51 (28). See also Sumarliði R. Ísleifsson, ‘Within or outside Europe? Modernists and anti-modernists visiting Iceland in the mid-nineteenth century’, in Simon Halink (ed.), Northern Myths, Modern Identities: The Nationalisation of Northern Mythologies Since 1800 (Leiden and Boston: Brill, 2019), pp. 33−48. 18 Sverrir Jakobsson, ‘“Black men and malignant-looking”: the place of the indigenous peoples of North America in the Icelandic world view’, in Andrew Wawn and Þórunn Sigurðardóttir (eds), Approaches to Vínland: A Conference on the Written and Archaeological Sources for the Norse Settlements in the North-Atlantic Region and Exploration of America (Reykjavík: Sigurður Nordal Institute, 2001), pp. 88−104 (101). 19 This common view permeates Guðmundur Finnbogason’s Íslendingar: Nokkur drög að þjóðarlýsingu. See also Unnur Dís Skaptadóttir and Kristín Loftsdóttir, ‘Cultivating culture?: images of Iceland, globalization and multicultural society’, in Sverrir Jakobsson (ed.), Images of the North: Histories – Identities – Ideas (Amsterdam and New York: Rodopi, 2009), pp. 205−16. 20 Nordal, Icelandic Culture, p. 44. 21 Authors like Rudyard Kipling were widely read in Iceland. See Andrew Wawn, ‘Victorian Vínland’, in Andrew Wawn and Þórunn Sigurðardóttir (eds), Approaches to Vínland: A Conference on the Written and Archaeological Sources for the Norse Settlements in the North-Atlantic Region and Exploration of America (Reykjavík: Sigurður Nordal Institute, 2001), pp. 191−206 (191). See also Jerold C. Frakes, ‘Vikings, Vínland and the discourse of Eurocentrism’, JEGP: Journal of English and Germanic Philology, 100:2 (2001), 157−99. 22 Jónsson, Íslandssaga, vol. 1, pp. 78−9. 23 Nordal, Icelandic Culture, pp. 230−1. 24 Matthías Þórðarson [Matthias Thordarson], The Vinland Voyages, trans. Thorstina Jackson Walter (New York: American Geographical Society, 1930), p. 66. The Icelandic original, Vínlandsferðirnar: nokkrar athugasemdir og skýringar was published one year earlier

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

176

Landscapes and cultural memory

(Reykjavík: Prentsmiðjan Gutenberg, 1929). In the following, I will refer to the English translation. 25 Þórðarson, The Vinland Voyages, p. 66. 26 Þórðarson, The Vinland Voyages, p. 66. 27 Þórðarson, The Vinland Voyages, p. 66. 28 Þórðarson, The Vinland Voyages, pp. 66−7. 29 Þórðarson, The Vinland Voyages, p. 67. 30 Vilhjálmur Stefánsson, ‘Introduction’, in Þórðarson, The Vinland Voyages, pp. i−xv (xi). 31 Stefánsson, ‘Introduction’, pp. xiii−xiv. 32 Stefánsson, ‘Introduction’, p. xiv. 33 A voluminous collection of these letters has been published by Böðvar Guðmundsson, Bréf Vestur-Íslendinga, 2 vols (Reykjavík: Mál og menning, 2001–2). See also Davíð Ólafsson and Sigurður Gylfi Magnússon (eds), Burt og meir en bæjarleið: Dagbækur og persónuleg skrif Vesturheimsfara á síðari hluta 19. aldar, Sýnisbók íslenskrar alþýðumenningar 5 (Reykjavík: Háskólaútgáfan, 2001). 34 Daisy L. Neijmann, The Icelandic Voice in Canadian Letters: The Contribution of Icelandic-Canadian Writers to Canadian Literature (Ottawa: Carleton University Press, 1997), pp. 4−8. 35 Kirsten Wolf, ‘The recovery of Vínland in western Icelandic literature’, in Andrew Wawn and Þórunn Sigurðardóttir (eds), Approaches to Vínland: A Conference on the Written and Archaeological Sources for the Norse Settlements in the North-Atlantic Region and Exploration of America (Reykjavík: Sigurður Nordal Institute, 2001), pp. 207−19 (208). On the preservation of Icelandic culture and identity during the first decades of the settlement, see especially Neijmann, The Icelandic Voice in Canadian Letters, pp. 79−91. 36 Steinunn J. Sommerville, ‘Early Icelandic settlement in Canada’, Papers Read before the Historical and Scientific Society of Manitoba, 1 (1944−45), 25−43 (25). Also quoted in Wolf, ‘The recovery of Vínland’, p. 207. 37 Leoussi and Grosby, ‘Introduction’, p. 6. 38 Wolf, ‘The recovery of Vínland’, p. 213. 39 Quoted in Elva Simundsson, Icelandic Settlers in America (Winnipeg: Queenston House Publishing, 1981), p. 36. On the role of Norse mythology in New Iceland, see Simon Halink, ‘Asgard Revisited: Old Norse Mythology and Icelandic National Culture 1820–1918’ (PhD thesis, University of Groningen, 2017), pp. 378−90. 40 On Icelandic authors’ opinions on New Iceland, see Úlfar Bragason, ‘Images of North America in writings by three Icelandic authors: Matthías Jochumsson, Jón Ólafsson, and Einar H. Kvaran’, in Gunilla Florby, Mark Shackleton, and Katri Suhonen (eds), Canada: Images of a Post/National Society, Canadian Studies 19 (Brussels: Peter Lang, 2009), pp. 235−44.

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

Vinland as remembered by Icelanders

177

41 Jonas Thor, Icelanders in North America: The First Settlers (Winnipeg: University of Manitoba Press, 2002), p. 5. On the development of a Canadian identity among Icelandic immigrants (especially in the second generation), see Martha Lilja Marthensdóttir Olsen, ‘“Jeg er fædd í Canada og því canadísk að ætt”: Einsögurannsókn á lífi tveggja vestur-íslenskra kvenna’, Sagnir, 24 (2004), 82−9. 42 Wolf, ‘The recovery of Vínland’, p. 212. 43 Joep Leerssen, When was Romantic Nationalism? The Onset, the Long Tail, the Banal, Nise Essays 2 (Antwerp: Nise, 2014), p. 30. 44 See Amy Mulligan’s chapter 6 and Bergur Þorgeirsson’s chapter 7 in this volume. 45 Helgi Jónsson, ‘Ávarp til Íslendinga’, Leifur, 1 (1883), 1–2 (2). Translations of this text are my own. In the original Icelandic: ‘þá er það mjög ósanngjarnt að lofa þeim ekki að eiga þann heiður, er þeir eru sannir erfingjar að, og því finnst mjer það illa gjört af Norðmönnum að vilja eigna sjer hann að öllu leyti.’ 46 Neijmann, The Icelandic Voice in Canadian Letters, pp. 133−44. 47 Hafsteinn Pjetursson, ‘Jónatan (Bandaríkin)’ Tjaldbúðin, 3 (1899), 3−21 (9−10). All translations of this text are my own. In the original Icelandic: ‘“Þessi maður þarna,” mælti hann [Uncle Sam], “er Leifur heppni. Hann er fyrsti landnemi Bandaríkjanna. Hann er fyrsti borgari þeirra. Hann keypti sjer borgararjett, með því fyrstur manna að sigla yfir ólgandi Atlantshaf og finna heimsálfu þessa. … Og barnið þarna er Snorri Þorfinnsson. Hann er fyrsti “innfæddi” borgari Bandaríkjanna. Leifur heppni og Snorri Þorfinnsson eru forfeður mínir.’ 48 Pjetursson, ‘Jónatan’, p. 10. 49 Pjetursson, ‘Jónatan’, p. 10. In the original Icelandic: ‘Hann er ekki forfaðir minn. Hann var aldrei borgari Bandaríkjanna. Hann steig aldrei fæti sínum á meginland mitt. Hann er forfaðir þeirra, sem búa hjerna fyrir sunnan landamæri mín. Og landnám hans er allur suðurhluti heimsálfu þessarar. En suðræna blóðið hans rennur ekki í æðum mínum. Auðvitað elska jeg og virði minning Kólúmbusar, og honum á jeg stórmikið að þakka. Vegna sjáferða hans fannst land mitt aptur að nýju.’ 50 On the political use of Leif Eiriksson in the United States and the ‘crusade’ against Columbus, see especially Inga Dóra Björnsdóttir, ‘Leifr Eiríksson versus Christopher Columbus: the use of Leifr Eiríksson in American political and cultural discourse’, in Andrew Wawn and Þórunn Sigurðardóttir (eds), Approaches to Vínland: A Conference on the Written and Archaeological Sources for the Norse Settlements in the North-Atlantic Region and Exploration of America (Reykjavík: Sigurður Nordal Institute, 2001), pp. 220−6. 51 Sigríður Matthíasdóttir, Hinn sanni Íslendingur: Þjóðerni, kyngervi og vald á Íslandi 1900–1930 (Reykjavík: Háskólaútgáfan, 2004), p. 77.

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

178

Landscapes and cultural memory

52 In the context of this volume, it is interesting to mention that Ingolf Arnarson was occasionally referred to as the Columbus of Iceland. See for instance the article ‘Jason eða Ingólfur?’, Ísafold (25 August 1906), p. 218. 53 See Matthew Scribner’s chapter 4 in this volume. 54 See ‘100: 1913−2013’, Ölgerðin Egill Skallagrímsson, http://100ara. olgerdin.is/, last accessed 28 December 2018. 55 Ólafur Ragnar Grímsson, ‘President’s address’, Lögberg–Heimskringla (29 August 1997), p. 2. 56 See for instance the critical reaction of the Icelandic author and filmmaker Viðar Víkingsson, ‘Snorri, Pocahontas og pólitísk rétthugsun’, Morgunblaðið (31 July 1997), p. 24. 57 For an angry reaction from the Icelandic side, see Hjörtur Guðmunds­ son, ‘Obama’s wrong about Leif Erikson’, Washington Examiner (30 October 2015), www.washingtonexaminer.com/obamas-wrongabout-leif-erikson, last accessed 28 December 2018. 58 Tim Edensor, National Identity, Popular Culture and Everyday Life (Oxford and New York: Bloomsbury Academic, 2002), p. 65.

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

Part III Recasting the past

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

10 Spectral Vikings in nineteenth-century American poetry Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

Angela Sorby

Ancient North American artefacts provided nineteenth-century people with a blank slate for utopian fantasies, self-interested appropriations, and scholarly dead ends. As Geraldine Barnes, Douglas Hunter, Annette Kolodny, and others have described, the notion of a pre-Columbian Norse presence was attractive and durable, especially after an English translation of Carl Rafn’s 1837 Antiqvitates Americanæ was published in America in 1838.1 As Hunter suggests in his work on Dighton Rock, to long for an ancient Norse America was to long for indigeneity – an inheritance that only Native Americans could unquestionably claim. American poets participated in the emerging conversation about America’s past by doing a romantic end-run around the whole question of object-based epistemology and its claims to historical truth. In other words, they tended to use material evidence not as a form of proof, but as a touchstone for affective display. From the capacious and shifting vantage point(s) of literary romanticism, a poet’s job was to elicit and manage feelings, not facts – and indeed, when it comes to questions of identity, emotions have always been a constitutive force. Lydia Sigourney frames the issue of facts versus feelings in her 1845 apostrophe to the (supposedly Norse) Newport Tower: Light Fancy holds her sports With giddy wing upon thy time-scathed crown Peopling thy darksome chambers with strange groups And spectral shapes; – but hoar Antiquity Sublimely frowns upon the fairy toil, Eluding, like the Sybil’s fabled page, The curious eye, and anxious search of man.2

For American poets, pre-Columbian Norsemen are consistently figured as ‘spectral shapes’, or ghosts: figures that may or may

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

182

Recasting the past

not be real, but that express real feelings. In nineteenth-century American poetry, ghosts in general, and Norse ghosts in particular, reflect the problem of the ‘Sybil’s faded page’, that is, the problem that the past is not just a set of static artefacts but a text that invites – indeed, demands – affective responses. Of course, for literary historians, to think ‘ghost’ is to think ‘Gothic’. Gothic texts typically unfold in an antique or primeval space (plantation, graveyard, dark forest) from which literal or metaphorical ghosts rise to manifest, as Jerrold Hogle puts it, ‘unresolved crimes or conflicts that can no longer be successfully buried from view’.3 Not surprisingly, then, American Gothic spaces are haunted by American transgressions: Native American removals, witch trials, and, of course, slavery. But what unresolved crimes and conflicts manifest when the disinterred spirit is a flaxenhaired sea-king? Why would white people haunt white people? The four poems discussed here – Samuel Bellamy Beach’s Escalala, Henry Wadsworth Longfellow’s ‘The Skeleton in Armor’, Lydia Sigourney’s ‘The Newport Tower’, and Sidney Lanier’s ‘Psalm of the West’ – articulate the different, and yet related, ways that nineteenth-century poets imagined an early Norse presence in North America. Escalala, inspired by the Ohio Mounds, appeared in 1824, when Americans were still smarting from charges that the North American landscape would produce human and animal degenerates.4 ‘The Skeleton in Armor’, published in 1842, reflected Longfellow’s engagement with Carl Rafn, but also certain pre-1848 strains of optimistic German romanticism.5 Sigourney’s ‘The Newport Tower’, written as a response and companion to Longfellow’s poem, evokes America’s bloody colonial past only to sidestep its ethical ambiguities in favour of sentimental moralising. ‘Psalm of the West’, a significantly later poem and the only one considered here to appear after the Civil War, celebrates the 1876 Centennial as a time when North and South are determined to bind their wounds and unite as one p ­ urified (and implicitly white) nation.6 Beach, Longfellow, Sigourney, and Lanier drew from a range of Gothic and Romantic discourses to produce spectral Northmen, placing Europeans in ancient North America while registering mixed emotions and ­difficult questions concerning race, national identity, and the deep past. Samuel Bellamy Beach’s Escalala has not been studied by other scholars of what Barnes calls ‘Viking America’, but it is the earliest, longest, and most bizarre poem in the subgenre. Beach,

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

Spectral Vikings in American poetry

183

a ­Yale-educated lawyer, apparently wrote his one and only epic while serving a prison term in what was then called Michigan Territory.7 The poem attempts to answer the then common claim that America had not, and could not, generate great literature. In the prologue to Escalala, Beach frames the insult more fancifully: ‘If some luckless native minstrel twine / A votive chaplet for Apollo’s shrine’, then ‘Europe’s cold disdain repels the hapless bard’.8 Beach’s ambition is thus clear: he will be a native minstrel. The idea of the native minstrel had been popularised by Walter Scott, a Scandinavian enthusiast whose Harold the Dauntless (1817) seems likely to have inspired Beach. For Scott, a ‘native minstrel’ was a ‘native Highlander’ steeped in Scottish folklore and antiquities.9 This posed hurdles for would-be New World bards. What, exactly, was a ‘native minstrel’, and what might count as ‘native’ American folklore and antiquities? Was ‘Indian’ the only option? Beach’s Escalala is set in the Ohio Valley, amid ancient mounds where ‘viewless spirits’ ‘hover round the scene / Where valor, worth, and glory erst have been’.10 The story of these spirits unfolds over five cantos: Naddodd, from the Book of Settlements (Landnámabók), is blown off course, lands in Nova Scotia, treks inland to the Ohio Valley, and founds a settlement of ‘Scanians’ whose vast cities will later become mounds. However, the Scanians clash with the Native Americans, are defeated, and eventually become extinct. Beach’s Norse ghosts were not wholly original; in 1787, the famous naturalist Benjamin Smith Barton, a consultant to Thomas Jefferson, toured the Ohio mound sites and wrote: I am induced to think that the Danes have contributed to the peopling of America … I will not attempt to ascertain the era at which the Danes migrated to the new world. History, so far as I know, is silent on the subject, but we well know that long before the Norman Invasion these people were remarkable for their boldness and the extent of their voyages: they penetrated into Iceland, Greenland, and other parts of Europe and nothing could obstruct the daring spirit which actuated them.11

Why Danes specifically? Barton does not say, but the nation-­ building benefits of this leap are clear. If Danes built the mound cities, then white Americans are, on some level, just as indigenous – and just as legitimate – as Native Americans. In other words, they can be native minstrels. At first, it seems that Beach’s poem will follow a familiar Western story arc, in which virtuous and inventive white settlers

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

184

Recasting the past

are wiped out by treacherous and backward indigenous peoples, thus implicitly justifying further colonisation by the wronged whites. In a footnote to his preface, Beach quotes an Encyclopaedia characterising indigenous peoples as incapable of building cities: ‘the American savage is among the most indolent and listless of human beings; dull, phlegmatic, silent, and inert’.12 And yet, surprisingly, the pattern does not hold. The Scanians remain mired in static traditions and tyrannies, while the Native Americans emerge (contra Beach’s own Encyclopedia) as active, eloquent, energetic, and virtuous. In the opening lines of Canto I, Beach embeds the Scanians in a lush American landscape: October’s sun shone mildly bright. On Mississippi’s waves of light, And e’en Ohio’s darker stream Glanced gaily back his mellow beam On Erigonia’s hundred spires. That gleamed like Scotia’s beacon-fires; When Gondibert, in pride of place, Stern king of Scania’s powerful race, Summoned his nobles, near and far, To grace the pomp of sylvan war.13

Oddly, however, even though Gondibert’s people have lived in Ohio for hundreds of years at this point, they don’t seem aware of their surroundings. They make offerings at Odin’s shrine, following ‘an old custom, which his sire / Who fled, long since, from Harold’s ire, / Had brought from Norway, o’er the sea’.14 The king plays a bugle, dresses in ermine, has somehow acquired horses, drains the wassail bowl, and listens to skaldic recitations set in the Old Country. For example, when called upon, one grey-haired Bermondlake sings: The Witch of Hesleggen was murky and hoar, The Witch of Hesleggen was wrinkled and sour; Her frown was like Heckla’s dark, volcanic smoke, And her smile like the gleams, through its darkness that broke: Her elf-locks were matted with sea-dragon’s blood, Newt, vampire and harpy were dished for her food.15

Bermondlake is a minstrel, but not a native minstrel, since ‘The Witch of Hesleggen’ draws exclusively on Scandinavian sources. Moreover, as the story continues, the Scanians prove themselves unworthy of their adopted home. The Scanian prince Ruric spots

Spectral Vikings in American poetry

185

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

a Native American woman, Escalala, and decides to abduct her. Beach imagines Escalala’s feelings: Silent she stood: the dark, cold feeling Of nerveless desperation, stole Its icy torpor o’er her soul; With its unholy touch congealing E’en the short, sharp, instinctive cry Which nature prompts, in agony. One instant, and that feeling passed; It was too feminine to last In such a bosom formed to be The very home of energy.16

Departing from the Encyclopaedia’s indolent and listless Native Americans, Escalala embodies America, ‘the very home of energy’. Ruric, raised in a Norse bubble, cannot see her power: ‘Little did Ruric ken or care / If it were vengeance or despair / Which flushed her cheeks and lent her eye / That glance, so haughty, fierce and high.’ Curiously enough, it seems that Ruric’s main weakness is not rapacity but racism. Beach notes that Ruric deemed not that for Indian maid, Howe’er insulted or betrayed, Either her kindred, friends or race Could feel affliction or disgrace.17

Ruric’s European values – valour, conquest, and glory – prevent him from seeing Escalala as human. Ultimately, Beach compares the Scanians to ‘vipers in the grass’ whose legacy is sin and corruption. In the end, Escalala escapes from Ruric, saddles up her tame mammoth (yes, mammoth), and rides into battle, joining a war that kills off all of the Scanians. Beach calls her ‘vigorous active, dauntless, free’, a beacon of ‘Hope descending on Despair’.18 The mammoth matters, because in the eighteenth century unearthed mammoth bones were cited, by Thomas Jefferson and others, as proof that the American continent could produce large, vigorous mammals rather than being a space of inevitable degeneration.19 The Scanians represent the past, but Escalala – in a neat reversal of the perennial ‘last of the Mohicans’ trope – represents hope and the future. In Beach’s imagination, America is first and foremost a free nation, not a white nation. As Reginald Horsman has outlined in his work on race, Anglo-Saxonism, and manifest destiny, American racial discourses were in flux during the early years of

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

186

Recasting the past

the Republic.20 Blood mattered, skin tone mattered, language mattered, but the pseudo-scientific racial rigidities of the post-Civil War era had not yet calcified. Ultimately, the ‘others’ in Escalala are the dead Norwegians, who return as ghosts in the epilogue. It is hard to tell the extent to which Beach meant to champion Native Americans, who were being aggressively displaced from the Wabash Valley in the 1820s. I think it more likely that, like many inexperienced writers, he set out to write one poem – and nationalist epic – and ended up writing something else altogether. In Escalala, white Europeans – the Scanians – haunt a landscape that they cannot understand and have no right to occupy. Like Beach’s Escalala, Henry Wadsworth Longfellow’s ‘The Skeleton in Armor’ emanates from a haunted archaeological site. Inspired by Rafn’s careful mapping of supposed Norse settlements onto New England sites, Longfellow imagines that the Fall River skeleton (identified as Norse by Rafn) has come to life. Longfellow’s setting is explicitly Gothic – there is a ghost, a patricide, a dead lover, and a ruined tower – but on closer inspection it seems barely haunted at all. Rather, in contrast to Escalala, the poem enacts a drama of successful European assimilation into the American mainstream. Here, as elsewhere in his oeuvre, Longfellow’s smooth rhymes offer his readers a reassuring vision of the past as an emotionally accessible landscape that anyone can occupy and understand. Indeed, as Virginia Jackson has argued in her work on Hiawatha, Longfellow’s popular genius, and his limitations, lay in his capacity to represent cultural translation as easy and obvious.21 If, for Beach, cultural conflict is high-stakes battle to the death, for Longfellow everyone wins because everyone is essentially alike. Or, to be more specific, for Longfellow, everyone – from Ojibway chiefs to medieval Vikings – just wants to settle down, marry someone nice, and have a family. As Andrew Higgins has noted, by the 1840s Longfellow embraced Goethe’s ideal of a Weltliteratur that would bring all the world’s cultures into a civilised conversation.22 According to Paul Lützeler, Goethe’s concept of civilisation is ‘pluralistic and dialogic rather than monistic and exclusive’.23 In this spirit, Longfellow gently chides Rafn (whom he knew socially) in his poem’s headnote: The following Ballad was suggested to me while riding on the seashore at Newport. A year or two previous a skeleton had been dug up at Fall River, clad in broken and corroded armour; and the idea

Spectral Vikings in American poetry

187

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

occurred to me of connecting it with the Round Tower at Newport, generally known hitherto as the Old Wind-Mill, though now claimed by the Danes as a work of their early ancestors.24

Longfellow then quotes Rafn at length, before ending with a dry comment that ‘doubtless many an honest citizen of Newport, who has passed his days within sight of the Round Tower, will be ready to exclaim with Sancho; “God bless me! did I not warn you to have a care of what you were doing, for that it was nothing but a wind-mill; and nobody could mistake it, but one who had the like in his head.”’25 For Longfellow, tussles over artefacts are a bit silly because no one can, or should, own or defend cultural boundaries – a stance that is utopian and perhaps also conveniently blind to the violence underpinning nineteenth-century American expansionist projects. In ‘The Skeleton in Armor’, a spectral Viking appears to the poet with a ‘tale of woe’ to tell. He wants the American poet to transcribe his tale because ‘no skald’ has ever sung about it. The Viking’s ensuing story is transatlantic, starting in Norway and ending in Massachusetts. He comes of age ‘by the wild Baltic’s strand’, turns marauder, then falls for a ‘blue-eyed maid’ whose father, King Hildebrand, will not let them marry: She was a Prince’s child, I but a Viking wild, And though she blushed and smiled, I was discarded.26

Thus wronged by Old World hierarchies, the Viking kidnaps his beloved, kills her father, and sets sail for Vinland. There he builds a roundhouse for his bride (who recovers quickly from the shock of the patricide), and they live for many years in bourgeois domestic bliss. When she dies, he is distraught, so he dons his armour and falls on his spear. The Viking leaves behind two famous artefacts, the Newport Tower and himself, the Fall River skeleton. However, what matters in the poem is not the material remains of the Viking but his universal spirit as confirmed by his ascension, in the final lines, to a place that is neither Norway nor America, Valhalla nor Heaven: Thus seamed with many scars Bursting these prison bars Up to its native stars My soul ascended!

188

Recasting the past

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

There from the flowing bowl Deep drinks the warrior’s soul. Skoal! to the Northland! skoal! Thus the tale ended.27

The skeleton is not a Gothic ghost, unleashing repressed guilt or otherness, nor is he an explicit figure of white supremacy. Indeed, he literally has no skin of any colour. The Viking confesses personal but not national sins, allowing Longfellow and his readers to evade the haunting truths raised by more troubled ghosts, and opt instead to wassail among the stars. Lydia Sigourney’s ‘The Newport Tower’ (1845) gently pushes back against Longfellow’s ‘The Skeleton in Armor’ by picturing the tower as an artefact that refuses to tell its own story. Unlike Longfellow’s voluble Viking, who facilitates an act of Romantic simultaneous translation, Sigourney’s tower appears to resist interpretation. Her apostrophe begins: Dark, lonely Tower, amid yon Eden-isle, Which, as a gem, fair Narragansett wears Upon her heaving breast, thou lift’st thy head, A mystery and paradox, to mock The curious throng.28

Joan Wry has noted Sigourney’s ‘innovative use of direct address to request, or even demand, a story from an inanimate object’, suggesting that she ultimately constructs a ‘metaphysical conceit in which the material object undergoes an actual or projected transformative process that affects both speaker and object’.29 Indeed, despite her professed historical and archaeological agnosticism, Sigourney has a cultural agenda rooted in an affective romanticism that claims access to the past – and even mastery over it – based on feelings alone. Although she is less well known today, Sigourney’s literary fame rivalled Longfellow’s in antebellum America. While Longfellow operated as a public intellectual, packaging Continental European culture for middle-class readers, Sigourney positioned herself as a sentimental moralist whose authority sprang from her very specifically female Christian emotions. Interrupting an imaginary ongoing conversation between the scholarly Rafn and Longfellow, she plays the role of a sensible non-academic outsider, suggesting that no account of the past can be definitive: Say, reared the plundering hand Of the fierce buccaneer thy massy walls,

Spectral Vikings in American poetry

189

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

A treasure-fortress for his blood-stained gold? Or wrought the beings of an earlier race To form thy circle, while in wonder gazed The painted Indian?30

Even as she insists that the tower will not speak, however, it works a transformative process upon the speaker’s feelings. She asserts that ‘thou art / A right substantial, well-preserved old Tower, / Let that suffice us’, seeming to dismiss all speculation, and yet continues to speculate:     Some there are, who say Thou wert an ancient wind-mill.     Be it so! Our pilgrim-sires must have been much in love With extra labor, thus to gather stones, And patient rear thy Scandinavian arch, And build thine ample chamber, and uplift Thy shapely column, for the gadding winds To play vagaries with.     In those hard times I trow king Philip gave them other work, Than to deck dancing-halls, and lure the blasts From old Eolus’ cave.31

Curiously, then, even as she insists that the tower does not offer any hard evidence of its origins, the speaker allows herself to conclude that its arches are Scandinavian, reasoning that the ‘pilgrim-sires’ were surely too busy fighting Native Americans in King Philip’s War to erect such a fanciful artefact. However, in keeping with her sentimental ideals, Sigourney ultimately decides that settling on a moral is more important than settling on the truth: But still, grey Ruin, though they lightly speak, I fain would honor thee, as rhymers do, And ‘neath thy shadow weave my noteless song. I said I’d do thee honor, if I might, For thou art old. And whatsoever bears The stamp of hoary time and hath not been The minister of evil, claims from us Some tribute of respect.32

This late turn elevates empathy over intellectual mastery – a typical Sigourney move – but, strangely, by insisting that the tower has not been the ‘minister’ of any evil, it contradicts known features

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

190

Recasting the past

of New England’s past that the poem itself outlines. Most of the violence in ‘The Skeleton in Armor’ takes place offshore, propagated by non-Americans, removed from the broader context of American history. By contrast, Sigourney’s ‘The Newport Tower’ is dominated from its very first line by the spectre of documentable conflicts with Native Americans. The tower is located on the island of Newport, but Sigourney pans out, framing it as ‘a gem fair Narragansett wears’, thus referring both to the Rhode Island coastline and to one of the indigenous tribes, the Narragansets, decimated by King Philip’s War. In other words, to conclude by the end of the poem that the old tower ‘hath not been / The minister of evil’ is to suppress the ramifications of its opening image. Elsewhere in her poetry, Sigourney railed against war, calling it an ‘evil thing’ and asserting that ‘those are in a sad mistake / Who seek the warrior’s fame’.33 In ‘The Newport Tower’, though, the poem’s speaker practises a kind of wilful forgetting in the service of moral closure, aided by the vision of Viking builders who co-exist peaceably with ‘the painted Indian’. Taken together, ‘The Skeleton in Armor’ and ‘The Newport Tower’ do complementary antebellum Romantic cultural work from different angles. Both use the Viking past to generate white American subjectivity as a universal ideal. When Longfellow called ‘The Skeleton in Armor’ a national ballad, he meant, of course, to make it serve as an American myth, transported and translated from the Old World to the New. Likewise, when Sigourney placed ‘The Newport Tower’ in a volume titled Scenes in My Native Land, she was including the Norse in an ideological project aimed at applying Christian morals to (her) ‘Native Land’ and imagining these morals to be applicable across all cultures. It should be stressed that neither Longfellow nor Sigourney had a conscious racial agenda; indeed, both saw themselves as advocates for Native Americans and both wrote sympathetic Indian-themed poems, including Sigourney’s ‘Pocahontas’ and Longfellow’s Song of Hiawatha with its metre derived from the Finnish Kalevala. However, unlike Beach, whose narrative voice ultimately aligns itself with indigenous peoples against exogenous Norsemen, Sigourney and Longfellow were immersed in popular Romantic discourses that – even as they preached universalism – were beginning to naturalise and nationalise ‘Saxon’ whiteness as an indigenous American trait. In the antebellum world of Longfellow and Sigourney, the white Anglo-Saxon ideal was one strain among many. It was articulated by Ralph Waldo Emerson in some of his essays and lectures, but

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

Spectral Vikings in American poetry

191

somewhat counterbalanced, at least in the Northern states, by other forces such as abolitionism.34 After the Civil War, however, conscious constructions of whiteness became a more dominant factor in public life. When Longfellow invented ‘Saxon’ characters like that in ‘The Skeleton in Armor’, he was (at least on a conscious level) promoting cosmopolitanism, not racial hierarchies. However, in the post-Civil War period, as racial hierarchies began to be legitimated by pseudo-Darwinian science and political expediency, the figure of the Viking took on more intentionally racialised features. Sidney Lanier’s ‘Psalm of the West’, commissioned by Lippincott’s Monthly Magazine to mark the nation’s Centennial, reflects this newly powerful ideology; it advances an account of American history rooted (or mired) in later nineteenth-century ideals of manifest national and racial destiny. Lanier was an ex-Confederate soldier and also, in some ways, an heir to the German Romantic traditions espoused by Longfellow and Sigourney. However, while both Longfellow’s universalism and Sigourney’s moralism dissolve human differences with the balm of (assumed) common Christian values, Lanier’s vision focuses on a will that moves history beyond good and evil. Writing about the poet’s ‘Centennial Cantata’, Jack Kerkering notes, ‘Lanier’s AngloSaxonism subordinates codes of conduct to scansion of poetic form, inspiring him to prepare two editions of ancient poetry to introduce children to Anglo-Saxon rhythms. Lanier thus replaces Jefferson’s reliance on Anglo-Saxon legal codes for instilling national character with a pattern of sound for perpetuating Anglo-Saxon racial identity.’35 For Lanier, the European–American freedom-loving spirit can (indeed, must) colonise a blank map through both action and language. Lanier’s ‘Psalm of the West’, which covers the discovery and colonial periods before turning to a highly allegorical rendering of the Civil War, ends with an invitation to a new Adam who will value conquest over mewling morality: Come, thou whole Self of Latter Man! Come o’er thy realm of Good-and-Ill, And do, thou Self that say’st ‘I can,’ And love, thou Self that say’st ‘I will;’ And prove and know Time’s worst and best, Thou tall young Adam of the West!36

For Lanier, the eponymous ‘West’ is physically and conceptually empty space, unreal and unrealised until Europeans work their will

192

Recasting the past

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

upon it. Despite its Biblical roots, this Adam figure is more Saxon than Abrahamic, focused on ‘the West’ as a concept that unites North and South. The Saxon Viking would seem to be a perfect embodiment of Lanier’s Adam. And yet, oddly, the first European to appear in the ‘Psalm of the West’ is a timid figure: Into the Sea of the Dark doth creep Bjarne’s pallid sail, As the face of a walker in his sleep, Set rigid and most pale, About the night doth peer and peep In a dream of an ancient tale. Lo, here is made a hasty cry: ‘Land, land, upon the west! – God save such land! Go by, go by: Here may no mortal rest, Where this waste hell of slate doth lie And grind the glacier’s breast.’ The sail goeth limp: hey, flap and strain! Round eastward slanteth the mast; As the sleep-walker waked with pain, White-clothed in the midnight blast, Doth stare and quake, and stride again To houseward all aghast.37

Bjarne is a Gothic shadow, timid and unaware of his Anglo-Saxon destiny. He is thus a most unnatural monster – a white man without power. The poem recovers its confidence when Leif, ‘bold son of Eric the Red’, makes landfall: The Norseman calls, the anchor falls, The mariners hurry a-strand: They wassail with fore-drunken skals Where prophet wild grapes stand; They lift the Leifsbooth’s hasty walls They stride about the land – New England, thee! whose ne’er-spent wine As blood doth stretch each vein, And urge thee, sinewed like thy vine, Through peril and all pain To grasp Endeavor’s towering Pine, And, once ahold, remain –.38

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

Spectral Vikings in American poetry

193

Leif makes strides in North America, and even builds on it. The land speaks to him because its blood, stretching ‘every vein’, is his blood. Even though Leif and his crew eventually leave New England (Lanier draws a veil over their departure, citing neither Native American nor uniped), Northern vigour flows through the vines and pines of Vinland. However, Leif and Bjarne have one thing in common: neither is ultimately in control of the nation’s destiny. Both channel a Will – a kind of mystical inevitability – that is larger than any one person. In ‘Psalm of the West’, Lanier had a lot of cultural work to do: on the one hand, he was aligned with the lost-cause, pseudochivalric discourses of the Southern aristocracy; on the other, he had been invited to write a poem that celebrated the whole country, North and South alike, and that would presumably aid in its reconciliation. For Lanier, the Northmen are important because they represent Anglo-Saxonism and, most specifically, the roots of the English language that North and South share. In an 1879 lecture at Johns Hopkins University (where he taught), Lanier declared, English is indeed the Washington of languages; and when you shall have reviewed with me for a moment the astonishing vicissitudes and overwhelming oppressions through which our Anglo-Saxon tongue has managed not only to preserve its idioms but to conquer into its own forms all the alien elements which have often seemed to tyrannise over it, I feel sure your reverence for it will be as great as my own.39

The Northmen’s veins take root in North America and their language makes them founding fathers capable of ‘conquering into its own forms alien elements’, including the Italian Columbus. Read in the context of the 1876 Centennial, ‘Psalm of the West’ envisions post-Reconstruction America as growing from roots sown by Leif Eiriksson – roots that were neither Union nor Confederate but rather Saxon and, most importantly, white. To advance this ideal, Lanier figures the English language itself as an artefact – but, unlike the Ohio Mounds or the Newport Tower, one that is not confined to a particular state or region. The Saxon roots of English provide (white) Americans with a common deep past while erasing the ‘alien’ elements of history represented by Native and African peoples. By the end of the nineteenth century, when Lanier was prominent, a vogue for what Eric Hobsbawm calls invented traditions was re-igniting the interest in Vinland that Carl Rafn had briefly

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

194

Recasting the past

sparked in the 1840s.40 This time, because of more efficient mass media and more established institutions – particularly schools – the image of the Viking had a broader reach. Divorced from (relatively elite) debates among poets and philologists, the idea of ancient Norse America lost nuance as it gained an ideological agenda. Beach was never reprinted, Sigourney fell from fashion, but Longfellow and, to a lesser extent, Lanier were elevated to the status of ‘schoolroom poets’, part of a canon that, as I have discussed elsewhere, every child was expected to know.41 One of the most widely circulated popular poetry anthologies of this period, Burton Stevenson’s Poems of American History (1908), opens its ‘Discovery of America’ section with a description of Bjarni’s voyage. Paraphrasing Rafn, Stevenson writes: Bjarni, Son of Herjulf, speeding westward from Iceland in 986, to spend the Yuletide in Greenland with his father, encountered foggy weather and steered by guesswork for many days. At last he sighted land, but a land covered with dense woods – not at all the land of fiords and glaciers he was seeking. So, without stopping, he turned his prow to the north, and ten days later was telling his story to the listening circle before the blazing logs in his father’s house at Brattahlid. The tale came, in time, to the ears of Leif, the famous son of Red Eric, and in the year 1000 he set out from Greenland, with a crew of thirty-five, in search of the strange land to the south. He reached the barren coast of Labrador and named it Helluland, or ‘slate-land’, south of it was a coast so densely wooded that he named it Markland, or ‘woodland’. At last he ran his ship ashore at a spot where ‘a river, issuing from a lake, fell into the sea’. Wild grapes abounded, and he named the country Vinland.42

This headnote precedes excerpts from ‘Psalm of the West’, John Greenleaf Whittier’s ‘The Norsemen’, and ‘The Skeleton in Armor’. The anthology’s format blurs the lines between fact and speculation on many levels, presenting the sagas as straightforward history and recruiting poems as ballast for particular, nationalist versions of this history. Dystopian perspectives (like Beach’s) or even mild scepticism (like Sigourney’s) give way to a pedagogical narrative that frames ‘Red Eric’ as a White Adam, naming the New World and making its history originate with Europeans. In closing, I wish to return to this essay’s opening question: why would white people haunt white people? The truth about Vinland continued to be debated through and beyond the nineteenth century. Through poetry, Beach, Longfellow, Sigourney, and Lanier were able to paint the American land and language with a gauzy

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

Spectral Vikings in American poetry

195

patina of European indigeneity without making historical claims. Lanier’s ‘Psalm of the West’ seeks to inspire readers by depicting sweeping Hegelian forces of history that push certain races westward to freedom and conquest. Sigourney’s ‘The Newport Tower’ attempts to elicit awed respect, acknowledging the competing claims of indigenous peoples and Europeans but ultimately displacing the tower’s ‘Scandinavian arches’ into the mists of an unknowable past. Longfellow’s ‘The Skeleton in Armor’ promotes a sense of optimistic mastery by assuming that all cultures are superficially different but fundamentally interchangeable. Only Beach’s Escalala – a poem long buried and forgotten – fully registers the discomfiting moral ambiguities that come with living as white newcomers on Native American land. Ultimately, however, it is notable that none of American poetry’s spectral Vikings are entirely untroubled figures: they are white and yet shadowy, familiar and yet uncanny – or, as Lanier put it, ‘all aghast’. Although later anthologies such as Poems of American History sought to control the narrative, it was difficult for nineteenth-century poets to conjure up the Vikings of Vinland without also disinterring the spectres of racial violence and conquest.

Notes  1 See Geraldine Barnes, Viking America: The First Millennium (Cambridge: D. S. Brewer, 2001); Douglas Hunter, The Place of Stone: Dighton Rock and the Erasure of America’s Indigenous Past (Chapel Hill: University of North Carolina Press, 2017); Annette Kolodny, In Search of First Contact: The Vikings of Vinland, the Peoples of the Dawnland, and the Anglo-American Anxiety of Discovery (Durham and London: Duke University Press), 2012; Carl Christian Rafn, America Discovered in the Tenth Century (New York: W. Jackson, 1838).  2 L. H. Sigourney, ‘The Newport Tower’, in Scenes in My Native Land (Boston: James Munroe and Co., 1845), pp. 262−3 (262).  3 Jerrold E. Hogle, The Cambridge Companion to Gothic Fiction (New York: Cambridge University Press, 2002), p. 2.  4 Samuel B. Beach, Escalala: An American Tale (Utica: W. Williams, 1824).  5 Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, ‘The Skeleton in Armor’, in Ballads and Other Poems (Cambridge: John Owen, 1841), pp. 29−41. The poem first appeared in the Knickerbocker in 1841 as ‘The saga of The Skeleton in Armor’. Subsequent reprints (including those authorised by Longfellow) shortened the title.

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

196

Recasting the past

 6 Sidney Lanier, ‘Psalm of the West’, in Poems of Sidney Lanier (New York: Scribner’s, 1899), pp. 114−38. The poem first appeared in Lippincott’s Magazine in 1876.  7 Few biographical traces remain of Beach, but in 1841 he wrote to the editor Rufus Griswold asking that Griswold consider reprinting Escalala, which was ‘written by me in poverty and sickness (the greater part of it when in jail for debt), and published, if I rightly remember, in 1824, in a small edition, by William Williams, Utica, N. Y. The small number published, in that inland place, coupled with the fact that on its appearance it was “damned with faint praise” by the North American Review, may have prevented it from ever having come under your notice, or perhaps, from having ever traveled as far as Philadelphia.’ See Rufus Griswold, Passages from the Correspondence and Other Papers of Rufus Griswold (Cambridge, W. M. Griswold, 1898), pp. 64−5.  8 Beach, Escalala, p. ix.  9 See Peter Mortensen, ‘“The Descent of Odin”: Wordsworth, Scott and Southey among the Norsemen’, Romanticism: The Journal of Romantic Culture and Criticism, 6:2 (2000), 211–33. 10 Beach, Escalala, p. 90. 11 Benjamin Smith Barton, Observations on some Parts of Natural History. To which is Prefixed an Account of several Remarkable Vestiges of an Ancient Date, which have been Discovered in Different Parts of North America: Part I (London: Printed for the author, sold by C. Dilly, 1787), p. 65. 12 Beach, Escalala, p. 99. 13 Beach, Escalala, p. 12. 14 Beach, Escalala, p. 12. 15 Beach, Escalala, p. 19. 16 Beach, Escalala, p. 45. 17 Beach, Escalala, p. 56. 18 Beach, Escalala, p. 86. 19 See Keith Stewart Thomson, The Legacy of the Mastodon: The Golden Age of Fossils in America (New Haven: Yale University Press, 2008). 20 Horsman notes: ‘The debates and speeches of the early nineteenth century reveal a pervasive sense of the future destiny of the United States, but they do not have the jarring note of rampant racialism that permeates the debates of mid-century.’ See Reginald Horsman, Race and Manifest Destiny (Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1981), p. 1. 21 Virginia Jackson, ‘Longfellow’s tradition, or, picture-writing a nation’, Modern Language Quarterly: A Journal of Literary History, 59:4 (1998), 471−96. 22 Andrew C. Higgins, ‘Longfellow’s conversations: Weltliteratur as aesthetic in the early poetry’, in Christoph Irmscher and Robert

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

Spectral Vikings in American poetry

197

Arbour (eds), Reconsidering Longfellow (Madison: Fairleigh Dickinson University Press, 2014), pp. 11−31. 23 Paul Michael Lützeler, ‘Goethe and Europe’, South Atlantic Review, 65:2 (2000), 95−113 (95). 24 Longfellow, ‘The Skeleton in Armor’, p. 29. 25 Longfellow, ‘The Skeleton in Armor’, p. 30. 26 Longfellow, ‘The Skeleton in Armor’, p. 37. 27 Longfellow, ‘The Skeleton in Armor’, p. 41. 28 Sigourney, ‘The Newport Tower’, p. 262. 29 Joan R. Wry, ‘A sense of the material object: Sigourney’s fabric poems’, in M.L. Kete and Elizabeth Petrino (eds), Lydia Sigourney: Critical Essays and Cultural Views (Amherst: University of Massachusetts Press, 2018), pp. 48−66 (49). 30 Sigourney, ‘The Newport Tower’, p. 262. 31 Sigourney, ‘The Newport Tower’, p. 262. 32 Sigourney, ‘The Newport Tower’, p. 263. 33 Lydia Sigourney, ‘War’, in Lydia Sigourney: Selected Poetry and Prose, ed. Gary Kelly (New York: Broadview Press, 2008), p. 140. 34 Abolitionists were not necessarily anti-racist – in fact, Emerson saw himself as an abolitionist even as he championed the ‘national character of the Anglo-Saxon race’ – but the movement did give a platform for anti-racist views to be aired, especially by black abolitionists. See Christopher Cameron, To Plead Our Own Cause: African Americans in Massachusetts and the Making of the Antislavery Movement (Kent: Kent State University Press, 2014). See also Ralph Waldo Emerson, ‘The genius and national character of the Anglo-Saxon race’, in Ronald Bosco and Joel Meyerson (eds), The Later Lectures of Ralph Waldo Emerson (Athens: University of Georgia Press, 2010), pp. 8−18. 35 Jack Kerkering, ‘“Of me and of mine”: the music of racial identity in Whitman and Lanier, Dvorˇák and DuBois’, American Literature: A Journal of Literary History, Criticism, and Bibliography, 73:1 (2001), 147−84 (155). 36 Lanier, ‘Psalm of the West’, p. 138. 37 Lanier, ‘Psalm of the West’, p. 118. 38 Lanier, ‘Psalm of the West’, p. 121. 39 Lanier, quoted in John D. Kerkering, The Poetics of National and Racial Identity in Nineteenth-Century American Literature (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2003), p. 77. 40 See Eric Hobsbawm and Terence Ranger (eds), The Invention of Tradition (New York: Cambridge University Press, 1983). 41 Angela Sorby, Schoolroom Poets (Durham: University of New Hampshire Press, 2005). 42 Burton Stevenson, Poems of American History (Boston: Houghton Mifflin, 1907), p. 3.

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

11 ‘Who is this upstart Hitler?’: Norse gods and American comics during the Second World War Jón Karl Helgason

The most striking echoes of medieval Icelandic literature in contemporary American culture are several recent blockbuster movies from Marvel Studios in which the superhero Thor, brought to life by the Australian actor Chris Hemsworth, plays a prominent role. These films can be considered as adaptations of a series of graphic stories about the Mighty Thor and the Avengers that Marvel Comics started to release in the 1960s. The first tale, published in the magazine Journey into Mystery #83 in 1962, was created by Jack Kirby, Stan Lee, and Larry Liber, but the ground had been laid in the 1940s and the 1950s when Kirby and several other writers and artists produced a handful of comics featuring Thor and other inhabitants of Asgard. The earliest stories were ­published during World War II by two competitors on the American comic book market: Fox Feature Syndicate (also known as Fox Comics) and Detective Comics, Incorporated (which merged with National Allied Publications and later became DC Comics). Interestingly, many of the comic artists and publishers behind these early Thor comics were first or second generation American Jews. Brothers Stan Lee (born Stanley Martin Lieber) and Larry Liber were the sons of Romanian-born immigrants, and Marvel founder Martin Goodman was the son of Jewish parents who had emigrated from Vilna in the Russian Empire (now Vilnius in Lithuania). Likewise, Joe Simon (born Hymie Simon) and Jack Kirby (born Jacob Kurtzberg) came from poor Jewish families; their fathers had emigrated from England and Austria, respectively. The founders of Fox Comics, Victor Fox and Robert W. Farrell (born Isidore Katz), were the sons of Russian and Galician emigrants, while Harry Donenfeld and Jack Liebowitz (born Yacov Lebovitz), publishers at Detective Comics, had emigrated to the United States with their parents from, respectively, Romania and Proskurov in the Russian Empire (now Khmelnytskyi in Ukraine).1

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

Norse gods, US comics and the Second World War

199

From our contemporary perspective, it may seem strange that this colourful group of New Yorkers was responsible for developing the thunder-god Thor into a comic book character, dressed in Viking gear, and presenting him to American audiences, during a period in which the gods of Valhalla were closely associated with Hitler’s Germany and Nazism.2 The present essay tries to solve that puzzle by analysing these largely overlooked wartime stories, two of which were published by Detective Comics and officially attributed to Kirby and Simon. These are ‘The villain from Valhalla!’ from 1942 and ‘The shadow of Valhalla!’ from 1944. First, however, focus will be placed on five earlier stories about ‘Thor, god of thunder’ that were serialised by Fox Comics in 1940 and were attributed to Wright Lincoln, a pseudonym of several writers and artists.3 Primarily, these publications will be considered within the history of early American superheroes and seen as contributions to the so-called ‘comic book war’ or ‘10-cent war’. Over the past few decades, scholars have defined this war by mapping the various ways in which comics published in the United States in the late 1930s and early 1940s ‘became an integral part of the Allied propaganda machine’.4 In an introduction to The 10 Cent War, a recent collection of essays devoted to this topic, Trischa Goodnow and James J. Kimble underline how the comic book industry almost universally supported the government’s perspective on everything from war strategy to ­ rationing to civilian engagement in the conflict. If anything, comic book propaganda was frequently ahead of the government’s appeals, calling for outright intervention long before Pearl Harbor, and for opening more battlefronts long before the military was prepared to do so.5

A well-known example of this ideological warfare is the earliest cover of Kirby and Simon’s Captain America Comics, a new magazine released by Timely Comics, Incorporated (which later became Marvel Comics) in December 1940.6 This patriotic superhero, dressed in stars and stripes, took the American comic book market by storm by knocking to the ground Adolf Hitler, who was purportedly planning to invade North America. Parallel references to Nazi military operations can be found in most of the comics under consideration, the settings of which include different battlefronts in France, Norway, and the Americas.

200

Recasting the past

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

Comics attributed to Wright Lincoln (1940) Although the history of caricatures in the United States can be traced back to the late nineteenth century, the domestic comic book market only started to grow in the 1930s. A wide variety of comic strips published in newspapers was popular in this period. One of these was Tarzan of the Apes, a graphic adaptation of a series of novels by Edgar Rice Burroughs, which began appearing in American newspapers in 1929, with illustrations by the Canadian artist Hal Foster. In 1937, Foster started to develop his own popular newspaper strip set in the Middle Ages, Prince Valiant in the Days of King Arthur, featuring the nobleman Valiant (Val), from the northern region of Thule, who joins the court at Camelot in England. Some newspaper strips were republished as comic books, but an important breakthrough in this market came with the widespread publication of comic magazines, typically thirty-two pages long and sold for ten cents apiece, each containing several original stories produced by different authors or studios. In 1935 only three American corporations were publishing magazines devoted to graphic stories; four years later the number had risen to eighteen companies and the number of published titles from around twenty to over three hundred.7 Jerry Siegel and Joe Shuster’s graphic stories about Superman, published by Detective Comics in the magazine Action Comics from 1938 and in a special Superman magazine from 1939, transformed this booming business into a full-fledged industry. ‘At a time when most comic book titles sold between 200,000 and 400,000 copies per issue’, Bradford W. Wright explains, ‘each issue of Action Comics (featuring one Superman story each) regularly sold about 900,000 copies per month. Each bimonthly issue of the Superman title, devoted entirely to the character, sold an average of 1,300,00 copies.’8 This success stimulated many other artists and publishers to develop similar costumed figures who used their superhuman powers to fight evil on earth. One disreputable imitation was Wonder Man, a character created in the spring of 1939 by Will Eisner. The first and only story in this series, published in the magazine Wonder Comics, introduced a blonde American engineer and inventor, Fred Carson, who obtains in Tibet a magic ring that gives him ‘Herculean powers’. Consequently, much like Superman, he is destined to become ‘forever the champion of the oppressed, defender of the weak and relentless foe of all that is evil and unjust’.9 Their looks were also strikingly similar; while

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

Norse gods, US comics and the Second World War

201

Superman is dressed in a blue skinsuit, with red trunks and a cape, Wonder Man usually wears a red skinsuit, with yellow or blue trunks. The publisher of Wonder Comics was Fox Comics. Reportedly, while working as an accountant for Detective Comics or one of its distributors, Victor Fox realised how lucrative the comic book business was becoming. Along with Robert W. Farrell, he rented an office space at 480 Lexington Avenue in New York City, a tall building already home to Detective Comics’ headquarters, and started to publish comic magazines with stories produced by freelance artists and independent studios. Unsurprisingly, Liebowitz and Donenfeld of Detective Comics were not particularly happy with these new competitors. Referencing Wonder Man’s close resemblance to Superman, they successfully sued Fox and Farrell for copyright infringement, compelling their new neighbours to become more creative in their dealings.10 Thor was one of several new superheroes introduced by Fox and Farrell over the following months. With a peculiar winged helmet on his head, Thor wears either blue or red trunks and a blue and sometimes green cape, but no skinsuit. He shares various characteristics with Superman but is perhaps more akin to Wonder Man. The splash page of the first story, published in the magazine Weird Comics #1, presents a blonde American, ‘Grant Farrel, an ordinary mortal [who] is suddenly invested with the supernatural powers of the ancient god Thor, son of Odin, supreme ruler of Valhalla’.11 Similar to the Tibetan ring in Carson’s life, Thor’s magic hammer transforms the cowardly Farrel, who has lost his girlfriend Glenda to a more adventurous suitor, into an impressive saviour of ‘the weak and downtrodden’.12 In Eisner’s story about Wonder Man, the hero had acted as a guardian of Brenda, the daughter of his friend. She had recently joined the Red Cross and was sailing to the country of Tatonia (Spain?), where a civil war was being fought. In his role as Wonder Man, a transformed Carson saved her from the prison of local rebel forces, knocking their general to the ground. Correspondingly, Farrel is the guardian of the modern girl Glenda in most of the stories devoted to Thor. In the initial story, ‘Thor, god of thunder’, foreign spies kidnap Glenda in the United States and bring her to the South American country of Anduria (Honduras?). The kidnappers seem to believe the girl can help them locate mines with valuable ore that their own country has its sights on. Fortunately, Farrel/Thor comes to her rescue and also smashes tanks that are

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

202

Recasting the past

invading Anduria. In the second story, ‘Thor goes to war’, Farrel follows Glenda to Europe after she decides to sail from New York across the Atlantic for a vacation, disregarding his concerns that ‘no ship is safe on the ocean with this war’.13 On the way, Farrel transforms himself into Thor, using his hammer to clear torpedoes and create safe passage for their vessel, and later stopping enemy air raids on European towns, including Paris. The fourth story, ‘The Buddha’s golden hoard’, describes Farrel/Thor’s trip to Tibet, where he rescues Glenda from the bandit chief Wong, who wants her to reveal the whereabouts of the grand Llama and his hoard of gold. Finally, in the fifth story, ‘Blood piracy in Shanghai’, the superhero rescues the girl and himself from the devilish Dr Hsin, who is experimenting with the blood of great men and women in order to create the perfect human being. All these comics suggest that their authors had elementary knowledge of Nordic mythology. Thor is rightly depicted as a thunder god, and his hammer as a powerful weapon. This is consistent with Snorri Sturluson’s medieval Prose Edda, in which Thor is characterised as ‘strongest of all the gods and men’, and his hammer Mjolnir is described as ‘well known to frost-giants and mountain-giants when it is raised aloft …; it has smashed many a skull of their fathers and kinsmen’.14 Furthermore, some of the comic stories suggest that the hammer will automatically return to Thor’s hands each time he tosses it. This is a detail consistent with a scene in the Prose Edda in which the dwarf Brokk, who forged Mjolnir, explains to Thor that ‘he would be able to strike as heavily as he liked, whatever the target, and the hammer would not fail, and if he threw it at something, it would never miss, and never fly so far that it would not find its way back to his hand’.15 However, Farrel/Thor’s use of the tool varies; with it he creates lightning and thunder and smashes armoured fighting vehicles and aircraft. While the Prose Edda does not explicitly describe Mjolnir as a thunder-instrument, the hammer does feature in a suggestive scene in which the giant Hrungnir ‘saw lightnings and heard great thunders. Then he saw Thor in an As-rage, he was travelling at an enormous rate and swung his hammer and threw it from a great distance at Hrungnir.’16 The superhero Thor is also able to shoot lightning bolts straight from his fingertips without the aid of the hammer, and in ‘Blood piracy in Shanghai’ he utilises ‘Thor’s gauntlet’ to defeat one of the villains in hand-to-hand combat. These iron gloves are mentioned several times in the Prose Edda as a part of Thor’s gear.17

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

Norse gods, US comics and the Second World War

203

Clearly, this pioneering series about Thor was a contribution to the comic book war. Goodnow and Kimble underline, in their introduction to The 10 Cent War, how American comic book authors’ and publishers’ increasing concerns about the political situation in Europe can be traced back to at least the year 1937. At that time, the magazine Smash Comics featured stories about armed conflicts on Venus between the soldiers of Sun Country and Dark Country, the latter sporting military helmets resembling those used by the Waffen-SS. Over the next two years, with intensifying Nazi militarism, more and more comic books stories began to offer thinly disguised warnings about Hitler’s intentions. Not long before Germany’s September 1939 invasion of Poland, for example, Smash Comics featured the hero Black Ace, fighting against a ruthless dictator who has taken over South America and is now planning to attack the United States. With his brownshirt uniform and favored female spy (conveniently named Mara Hani), there is little doubt that the villain was a stand-in for Hitler.18

South America played a significant role in many of these early comics because of the German regime’s systematic and, in some cases, successful attempts during the 1930s to obtain raw materials from various Latin American countries and to boost Nazi-inspired political organisations there. This is the background for the opening story about Farrel/Thor in Weird Comics, in which Glenda is kidnapped as part of a foreign military power’s ploy to seize mines in Anduria. The plot can be linked to various measures taken by the government in Washington to ‘combat the German presence’ in Central America, as well as ‘its potential sabotage and propaganda impact upon the United States’.19 The narrative of ‘Thor goes to war’, in which Thor scatters enemy planes in France, is an even more pointed example of anti-German propaganda. After the superhero has tied together the planes attacking Paris (with a heavy chain!) he throws them on an edifice in the capitol ‘of the enemy country’, which bears a close resemblance to the Brandenburg Gate in Berlin.20 In the early months of 1940, when the story was published, Germany had not yet invaded France, but the people of Paris had been anticipating air raids for quite some time. In this story, the authors (or publishers Fox and Farrell) are clearly calling for active participation of US forces in the escalating war in Europe. Still, the most arresting war propaganda in these early Thor comics appears in the third story, titled ‘Invasion from Mexico’. At

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

204

Recasting the past

the outset, ‘agents of Gratnia’ are seen meeting with some Mexican politicians ‘to discuss plans for invasion of the U.S.A.’. In the following frames, Gratnian troops are ‘rushed from Europe to Central America by plane and sea’. In response, young Americans are recruited, and Farrel becomes one of the servicemen who kiss their girlfriends goodbye and travel to the Mexican borders. Glenda (like Brenda in the first Wonder Man comic) ‘is not content to stay at home’ and subsequently ‘enlists as a nurse’. At first, the invading army has the upper hand, but the tables turn when Farrel decides to use ‘his magic powers’ to smash enemy tanks and bombers. He uses a lightning bolt to cripple the Gratnian forces near Houston and is also able to create a giant ‘lightning screen’ to halt air raids on Chicago. At the end of the story, one of the enemy pilots – resembling the German Red Baron – shoots Farrel as he tries to save a child from a ruined building in the city.21 Now it is Glenda’s turn to rescue her injured boyfriend and take him to a hospital for treatment. In her article ‘Superman as allegory’, Trischa Goodnow analyses four different stories about Superman that Siegel and Shuster created from 1939 to 1941, the period leading up to the Japanese attack on Pearl Harbor. In all of them, Goodnow stresses, the authors advocated for a shift in US foreign policy from isolation to intervention. Two of the stories in question, jointly titled ‘Europe at war’, were published in the March and April issues of Action Comics in 1940, around the same time Weird Comics started to serialise comics about Thor. According to Goodnow, Siegel and Shuster’s leitmotif was that ‘if the threat overseas isn’t enough, the public needs to be aware also that there might be fifth columnists operating within the United States, making America vulnerable to foreign attack’.22 The first three stories presenting Thor convey a similar message. Visual references to Paris, Berlin, and the Red Baron clearly suggest that the Gratnians represent the aggressive forces of Nazi Germany, posing threats not only to the people of Europe and Latin America, but also to citizens of San Antonio, Houston, and Chicago. Furthermore, these stories call upon Americans of both sexes to prepare themselves for active participation in the conflict, on different fronts and to the best of their abilities. ‘Blood piracy in Shanghai’, the final story about Thor, appeared in the August 1940 issue of Weird Comics. In the September issue, the thunder god was replaced by Dynamite Thor, a former mineowner by the name of Peter Thor who blows up sticks of dynamite

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

Norse gods, US comics and the Second World War

205

in order to stop local villains and halt the imminent invasion of the United States by a foreign army. Like Farrel/Thor, he has a girlfriend named Glenda. But only two stories about Dynamite Thor, both attributed to Wright Lincoln, were published in Weird Comics. In the November issue of the magazine he was replaced by the superhero Dynamo, alias Jim Andrews, who had previously been featured in a different comic magazine published by Fox Comics. Andrews is an engineer capable of charging himself up with electricity and releasing it out of his finger, both to fight his foes and to blow things to smithereens. Apart from that he bears limited resemblance to Thor. Comics attributed to Simon and Kirby (1942–44) Most of the stories published by Fox Comics in these early years were produced by independent artists or studios. The company had only a few regular employees, but interestingly, in late 1939 and early 1940, two of these employees were Joe Simon and Jack Kirby.23 Hence, it is likely that either or both were familiar with the series about ‘Thor, god of thunder’ and even contributed to its development. Indeed, one story by Simon, titled ‘Dr. Mortal’, was published in the same issue of Weird Comics as Wright Lincoln’s ‘Invasion from Mexico’. In 1940, however, both Simon and Kirby left Fox Comics and took better paid jobs with Martin Goodman at Timely Comics. One of their first assignments was the development of a new comic magazine fronted by Red Raven, a superhero closely resembling Wonder Man. The cover of the first issue has been identified as ‘a swipe from Hal Foster’s Prince Valiant … which both Joe and Jack followed’.24 The issue also contained the tale ‘Mercury in the 20th century’, created by Martin A. Bursten (or Burstein) and drawn by Kirby, which contains both visual and narrative echoes from the comics about Thor. The story features the classical god Mercury, who is sent by his father Jupiter from Mount Olympus to ‘the tumultous [sic], war torn world of the twentieth century’.25 His task is to save humankind from self-destruction, but he soon discovers that the Prussian dictator Rudolph Hendler (yet another Hitler look-alike) is his infamous relative Pluto. Several frames in this story depict Mercury’s failed attempts to beat and strangle Hendler/Pluto. Simon and Kirby’s Captain America Comics was introduced to the American reading public later that year. This highly popular series, Jon Judy and Brad Palmer point out, was

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

206

Recasting the past

clearly designed to ‘advocate American involvement in the war’, but it also ‘encouraged a perception among young readers that war is a fun, safe, desirable pursuit’.26 After finishing ten issues of Captain America Comics in 1941, partially with the assistance of a young Stan Lee, Simon and Kirby changed employers once again. This time they signed up with Liebowitz and Donenfeld at Detective Comics, where they had been moonlighting during the previous months.27 The creative duo primarily worked on four different series for the company, two original ones and two that had already been developed by other artists.28 One of the revamps was Sandman, created by Gardner Fox and Bert Christman in 1939 and featuring a masked superhero (whose real name is Wesley Dodds) and his sidekick, Sandy Hawkins. ‘The villain from Valhalla!’, published in the magazine Adventure Comics #75 in the spring of 1942, is one of the earliest stories Kirby and Simon created in this series. Here, Sandman and Sandy fight a group of Vikings, led by ‘Thor, ancient god of war’, who visit New York in a medieval longship.29 The story opens with young Sandy reading from a bookchapter titled ‘Twilight of the gods’. Part of the text is visible: ‘and as the mighty THOR smote them with his magic hammer “MJOLNAR”, the heavens resounded with deafening thunder claps, while the mortals below trembled before the wrath of the warlord of VALHALLA’. Wesley, impressed by the boy’s selfedification, looks over his shoulder, remarking that ‘this Thor must have been a tough citizen?’ Sandy agrees: ‘He was no softie … If he were living today I’d take a crack at him … hammer and all!’30 The scene suggests that Simon and Kirby might have known some modern American versions of the Prose Edda. One possible source is Hamilton Wright Mabie’s Norse Stories Retold from the Eddas, originally published in 1882 and reprinted several times in the early twentieth century with illustrations by George Wright. In one of the chapters, ‘The making of the hammer’, Mabie recounts Snorri Sturluson’s account of how the dwarf Brokk brings ‘Mjolner’ to Asgard. The hammer, Brokk explains to Thor, ‘shall never fail, no matter how big nor how hard that which it smites may be; no matter how far it is thrown, it will always return to your hand; you may make it so small that it can be hidden in your bosom, and its only fault is the shortness of its handle.’ Thor swung it round his head, and lightning flashed and flamed through Asgard, deep peals of thunder rolled through the sky, and mighty masses of cloud piled quickly up about him.31

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

Norse gods, US comics and the Second World War

207

It is worth underlining that the last sentence is Mabie’s addition to Snorri’s account. In several chapters of Norse Stories Retold from the Eddas readers also encounter more colourful supplement to the medieval texts: Wright’s images featuring various Norse gods and goddesses, including Odin and Thor with imposing whiskers, dressed in Viking gear, and wearing winged helmets.32 They partly resemble the violent Thor created by Simon and Kirby in 1942. Another likely source for the development of ‘The villain from Valhalla!’ is Hal Foster’s Prince Valiant. During the winter of 1941 to 1942, the strip was devoted to Val’s travels in the Mediterranean. He sails part of the way on a longship captained by the lively Viking Boltar, whose primary mission is to obtain gold from a local tribe in North Africa. Foster’s Boltar and Simon and Kirby’s Thor look almost identical, with their red beards, braided hair, and bare chests, wearing fur skirts and ancient Greek sandals. The two characters also share a substantial greed for gold. As soon as Thor’s vessel docks in New York, he visits a Manhattan branch of the National Bank, roaring: ‘Ha-ha − Nothing can stand against “Mjolnar” the hammer of the gods! Now to get the gold these people keep in this strange stone-house!’33 Indeed, the instrument enables him to shatter bank-vaults and fend off bank guards and policemen. Additionally, Thor and his crew members wear transparent bullet-proof garments, making it almost impossible to stop them. But as soon as the Vikings have removed the garments aboard their longship, Sandman and the New York police force gain the upper hand, bringing the brutal invaders to justice. It turns out that the red-bearded gang leader is an American ‘professor of metallurgy’, who has turned to crime. ‘That explains those bullet-proof clothes the gang wore’, Sandman remarks: ‘This hammer is an electrical master-piece! It can send enough voltage into the strongest steel to blow it to pieces!’34 Chris Sims has suggested that the subtext of ‘The villain from Valhalla!’ was developments of World War II.35 The Viking assault on New York in 1942 can surely be seen as an emblematic rerun of the Gratnian bombing of Chicago depicted in Weird Comics in 1940. Indeed, Thor is characterised on the splash page of Adventure Comics #75 in negative terms: ‘No kindness pulses in his body: instead only hate and savage ruthlessness guide him as he invades a modern world […] Robbing, killing, plundering he stalks invincible.’36 At the same time, it should be noted that Simon and Kirby were inspired by several other classical or biblical tales in the Sandman and Sandy series during this period. In ‘Mr. Noah raids the town’, published

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

208

Recasting the past

in Adventure Comics #76, a gang of American bank-robbers, led by Mr Noah Barton, are dressed in animal costumes and use a newly constructed ‘ark’ as their headquarters.37 Similarly, in ‘Santa fronts for the mob’, published in Adventure Comics #82, Santa Claus is ‘the tool of the ruthless underworld’.38 Hence it is possible to interpret ‘The villain from Valhalla!’ primarily as one of several comics by Simon and Kirby in which local American crooks cultivate the cultural memory of different groups or religions. The other wartime comic featuring Thor that has been attributed to Kirby and Simon is ‘The shadow of Valhalla!’ published in the magazine Boy Commandos #7 in the summer of 1944 as part of a very popular series that the two artists had started to develop for Detective Comics two years earlier. The heroes are four orphan boys – André Chavard from France, Alfie Twidgett from England, Jan Haasan from the Netherlands, and Brooklyn from the United States – who, under the leadership of American serviceman Rip Carter, fight the Axis Powers on multiple military fronts. The series is a standard contribution to the comic book war, following a pattern John R. Katsion had called ‘the righteous-quest representative anecdote’. The quest, Katsion explains, ‘is fraught with peril, but through bravery, sacrifice, and action, the person(s) arrive(s) at their final destination and succeed in killing the dangerous entity’.39 The setting of ‘The shadow of Valhalla!’ is German-occupied Norway, or more specifically an old edifice – ‘the last remaining building from the days of the Vikings’ – that the Commandos have been assigned to investigate.40 The castle, named Valhalla, is occupied by Nazi troops and full of cannons, hand grenades, and gasoline. The two parties engage in a battle, causing part of the bastion to explode. At that point, Brooklyn passes out, but when he comes round the Norse gods Thor, Frey, Bragi, and Heimdall are present and bring both the Commandos and the German intruders to the seat of Odin in a different part of the building. Odin decides to settle matters between these intruding guests by one-on-one combat. As is to be expected, Rip Carter wins his duel, granting him and the boys safe passage to ‘the world of light and life’, while Thor uses his hammer to dispatch the German soldiers ‘to the world of darkness and death’. No blood is shed on the pages of the comic, but Carter makes it clear that ‘all the Nazis were killed’.41 By the time ‘The shadow of Valhalla!’ was published in 1944, Simon and Kirby had both joined the US Army. Consequently, it is unclear whether the story, reportedly ghost-written by Don Cameron and ghost-drawn by Louis Cazeneuve, can be considered

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

Norse gods, US comics and the Second World War

209

part of Simon and Kirby’s oeuvre.42 Clearly, the visual design of the characters is considerably duller in this story than in ‘The villain from Valhalla!’. The Nordic gods that the Boy Commandos encounter all look more-or-less alike; they have blonde hair and beards, horned helmets on their heads, and are dressed in identical brown frocks. The primary exception is Odin, who has a white beard and is wearing a red robe. He is also accompanied by two birds and two canines, clear references to the ravens Huginn and Muninn and the wolves Geri and Freki mentioned in the Prose Edda and various other sources. The most fascinating part of the comic is an extensive dialogue between Thor and Odin (who speak in a rather archaic style) and Rip Carter and the German Nazi officer. It is worth quoting at length: Nazi: Heil Hitler! We are Nazis, the true followers of the ancient Germanic gods! You must help us in our fight to conquer the world in the sign of our historic symbol – the swastika! Thor: Swastika? I have never heard of it! Nor have I ever heard of these Nazis you speak of! Nazi: You must seize and imprison them! [refers to the Commandos] They are the enemies of all we stand for … Thor: I cannot do that! All brave warriors who fall in just cause are equally free in Valhalla! Nazi: Free? How can there be freedom in a German Valhalla? There must be some mistake Herr Thor! Thor: Aye, there must be a mistake! But Valhalla is the Norse heaven – not German! I will take you all to my father, Odin! He will understand! […] Thor: Behold, father. These strange warriors have reached Valhalla! Odin: I know them not, my son! I have sent for no warriors to be brought here from earth! Nazi:  Heil Odin! I represent your chosen leader, Hitler! And these are our enemies – The Commandos! They must be destroyed! Our fuehrer has ordered it! We shall be masters of the world! Odin: What nonsense is this? Who is this upstart Hitler? I never chose him for a leader! Rip: This man Hitler has appointed himself the master of the world … And now we are fighting his armies in order to be free! We refuse to be slaves! Odin: Well spoken, warrior! But hark, let me fathom the meaning of all this … Aye, I think I understand. You have blundered into Valhalla before your time! I will send ye all back – but I cannot send both of ye to the same world, for these will be only useless blood-shedding.43

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

210

Recasting the past

This scene clearly suggests that the authors of ‘The shadow of Valhalla!’ were aware of Odin’s function as the ‘father of the slain’. According to the Prose Edda ‘all those who fall in battle are his adopted sons. He assigns them places in Val-hall and Vingolf, and they are then known as Einheriar.’44 More importantly, the primary topic of the conversation is an assumed German proprietorship of Norse myths and, by extension, the racist ideology of a pan-Germanic Empire. The Norse gods repeatedly claim ignorance about contemporary political developments of the Third Reich, and in the end Odin refuses to accept any German soldiers into his band of Einheriar. ‘Valhalla is not for such as you – it has room only for warriors who fall in battle for justice!’ he declares before ordering Thor to ‘send these reptiles hence’.45 Conclusion This chapter has focused on seven American comic stories, ­ ublished in the 1940s, in which Thor and a few other gods of p the Old Norse pantheon play prominent roles. One of these tales, ‘The villain from Valhalla!’, was definitely written and drawn by Joe Simon and Jack Kirby. This is the only wartime story in which Thor is represented as a villain and hence it is not suggestive of his future development as a celebrated superhero. Visually, however, ‘the ancient god of war’ depicted on the cover of Adventure Comics #75 in 1942 clearly prefigures the muscular, blonde superhero who would start swinging his hammer around on the cover of Journey into Mystery #83 a full twenty years later.46 The actual authorship of the other comics remains unclear. Still, as outlined above, these publications relate to Simon and Kirby’s early careers, and they probably also contributed to the Mighty Thor character, which Kirby played an active role in developing. The portrayal of Thor in Weird Comics in 1940 was shaped by prevalent concerns of people in the comic book industry about the rise of fascism in Europe and about the reluctance of the US government to engage actively in World War II. Similarly, the story about the Nazi occupation of Valhalla featured in Boy Commandos in 1944 was part of the war propaganda prevalent in numerous American comic books during this period. It was of consequence for this general development, as Cord A. Scott explains, that ‘many comic book creators came from Jewish backgrounds and were especially appalled and disgusted by what Hitler

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

Norse gods, US comics and the Second World War

211

was doing to Jews in Europe. Comic books became an outlet to vent a desire for vengeance, as well as a medium to mobilise the American people against Nazism.’47 Both Simon and Kirby, as already noted, had Jewish parents and all three companies they worked for during World War II were owned by entrepreneurs with a Jewish background. Turning the thunder god Thor (alias Grant Farrel) into an American superhero and an active opponent of Gratnia (alias Germany) in the spring of 1940 was a clever persuasive move on the part of Wright Lincoln and his publishers (Fox and Farrell). Likewise, the decision by Simon and Kirby (or Cameron and Cazeneuve) and their publishers (Donenfeld and Liebowitz) to make Odin and Thor disavow Hitler and his Nazi military in 1944 was part of a widespread anti-German propaganda effort. In both instances, the message may have been especially directed at US citizens of north European descent. From a more general perspective, it is significant how the Old Norse gods in the stories from 1940 and 1944, just like the classical gods in Burste(i)n and Kirby’s ‘Mercury in the 20th century’, express concerns about the grave circumstances of World War II and feel obliged to intervene. Taken together, the theme of these comics is that the world needs assistance from deities of various cultures – a kind of godly Commandos – in order to stop ‘this upstart Hitler’.48 Notes  1 See Drew Friedman, Heroes of the Comics: Portraits of the Legends of Comic Books (Seattle: Fanagraphics Books, 2014), and Drew Friedman, More Heroes of the Comics: Portraits of the Legends of Comic Books (Seattle: Fanagraphics Books, 2016).  2 See for example: Klaus von See, Deutsche Germanen-Ideologie. Vom Humanismus bis zur Gegenwart (Frankfurt a.M.: Athenèaum–Verlag, 1970); Klaus von See, Barbar Germane Arier. Die Suche nach der Identität der Deutschen (Heidelberg: Universitätsverlag Winter, 1994); Julia Zernack, ‘Old Norse mythology and heroic legend in politics, ideology and propaganda’, in Margaret Clunies Ross (ed.), The PreChristian Religions of the North: Research and Reception, vol. II: From c. 1830 to the Present (Turnhout: Brepols, 2018), pp. 465−84.  3 It has been suggested that Pierce Rice, Dan Gormley, John C. Mitchell, and Arturo Cazeneuve may have been a part of the creative team behind the name of Wright Lincoln. See ‘Weird Comics: Fox, 1940 Series’, The Grand Comics Database (GCD), https://www.comics.org/ series/175/, last accessed 21 February 2019.

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

212

Recasting the past

 4 William Savage, Comic Books and America, 1945–1954 (Norman: University of Oklahoma Press, 1990), p. 10.  5 James J. Kimble and Trischa Goodnow, ‘Introduction’, in Trischa Goodnow and James J. Kimble (eds), The 10 Cent War: Comic Books, Propaganda, and World War II (Jackson: University Press of Mississippi, 2016), pp. 3−25 (13).  6 The issue in question is dated March 1941, but was published in December 1940 (American comic books usually went on sale three months before their official publication date).  7 Jean-Paul Gabilliet, Of Comics and Men: A Cultural History of American Comic Books, trans. Bart Beaty and Nick Nguyen (Jackson: University Press of Mississippi, 2010), p. 17.  8 Bradford W. Wright, Comic Book Nation: The Transformation of Youth Culture in America (Baltimore and London: Johns Hopkins University Press, 2001), p. 13.  9 Will Eisner, ‘The Wonder Man’, Wonder Comics #1 (May 1939). 10 Wright, Comic Book Nation, p. 15. See also Bob Andelman, Will Eisner: A Spirited Life (Raleigh: TwoMorrows Publishing, 2015), pp. 18−19; and Ken Quattro, ‘Superman vs. the Wonderman 1939, or, to put it another way – DC Comics vs. Victor Fox’, Alter Ego, 101 (May 2011), 27−58. 11 Wright Lincoln, ‘Thor, god of thunder’, Weird Comics #1 (April 1940). 12 Wright Lincoln, ‘Thor goes to war’, Weird Comics #2 (May 1940). 13 Lincoln, ‘Thor goes to war’. 14 Snorri Sturluson, Edda, ed. and trans. Anthony Faulkes (London and Melbourne: Dent, 1987), p. 22. 15 Sturluson, Edda, p. 97. 16 Sturluson, Edda, p. 79. 17 Wright Lincoln, ‘Blood piracy in Shanghai’, Weird Comics #5 (August 1940). See for example Sturluson, Edda, pp. 22 and 82. 18 Kimble and Goodnow, ‘Introduction’, p. 10. 19 Thomas M. Leonard, The History of Honduras (Santa Barbara: Greenwood, 2011), p. 124. 20 Lincoln, ‘Thor goes to war’. 21 Wright Lincoln, ‘Invasion from Mexico’, Weird Comics #3 (June 1940). 22 Trischa Goodnow, ‘Superman as allegory: examining the isolationist/ interventionist dilemma’, in Trischa Goodnow and James J. Kimble (eds), The 10 Cent War: Comic Books, Propaganda, and World War II (Jackson: University Press of Mississippi, 2016), pp. 114−30 (127). 23 In a 1989 interview, Simon recalled how he and Kirby had met for the first time at the offices of Fox Comics fifty years earlier: ‘I went over to Fox and became editor there, which was just an impossible job, because as I said there were no artists, no writers, no editors, no

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

Norse gods, US comics and the Second World War

213

letterers − nothing there. … Anyway, I was doing freelance work and I had a little office in New York about ten blocks from DC’s and Fox’s offices, and I was working on Blue Bolt for Funnies, Incorporated. So, of course, I loved Jack’s work and the first time I saw it I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. He asked if we could do some freelance work together. I was delighted and I took him over to my little office’: Glen Musial, ‘More than your average Joe: excerpts from Joe Simon’s panels at the 1998 Comicon International: San Diego’, Jack Kirby Collector, 25 (August 1999), 33−53 (33−4). 24 Harry Mendryk, ‘Jack Kirby, fanboy’, Jack Kirby Museum (8 October 2011), https://kirbymuseum.org/blogs/simonandkirby/archives/2198, last accessed 12 December 2018. 25 Martin A. Bursten and Jack Kirby, ‘Mercury in the 20th century’, Red Raven Comics #1 (August 1940). 26 Jon Judy and Brad Palmer, ‘Boys on the battlefield: kid combatants as propaganda in World War II-era comic books’, in Trischa Goodnow and James J. Kimble (eds), The 10 Cent War: Comic Books, Propaganda, and World War II (Jackson: University Press of Mississippi, 2016), pp. 66−79 (69). 27 According to some sources, Simon and Kirby were sacked because Lee reported to his superiors at Timely Comics that they were working for Detective Comics. See Mark Evanier, ‘Afterword’, in Joe Simon and Jack Kirby, The Sandman (New York: DC Comics, 2009), pp. 301−2. Lee himself, however, later recalled: ‘Unexpectedly, Joe and Jack left Timely Comics! … Truth is, I never knew exactly why they left’: Bob Batchelor, Stan Lee: The Man Behind Marvel (Lanham, Boulder, New York, London: Rowman & Littlefield, 2017), p. 29, quoted from Stan Lee, Peter David and Coleen Doran, Amazing Fantastic Incredible: A Marvelous Memoir (New York: Touchstone, 2015), n.p. 28 Mark Evanier, Kirby: King of Comics (New York: Abrams, 2008), pp. 60−1. 29 Joe Simon and Jack Kirby, The Sandman (New York: DC Comics, 2009), p. 45. 30 Simon and Kirby, The Sandman, p. 46. 31 Hamilton Wright Mabie, Norse Stories Retold from the Eddas (New York: Dodd, Mead and Company, 1908), pp. 80−1. 32 See for instance Mabie, Norse Stories Retold from the Eddas, pp. 20−1. 33 Simon and Kirby, The Sandman, p. 47. 34 Simon and Kirby, The Sandman, p. 54. 35 Sims points out that Thor was ‘the blitzkrieging Norse god that was being held up by the Nazis as the ideal of the Master Race’: Chris Sims, ‘The strange history of Jack Kirby’s three Thors’, Comics Alliance (6 May 2011), http://comicsalliance.com/jack-kirbysthor/?trackback=tsmclip, last accessed 12 December 2018. 36 Simon and Kirby, The Sandman, p. 45.

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

214

Recasting the past

37 Still, the story has an interesting reference to Nazi Germany. Sandy suspects Mr Barton to be an insane prophet, who is predicting that World War II will end with a great flood. But Wesley/Sandman has a different concern: ‘If he is sane, I’m sure he’s using the new psychology! Keep them laughing at you … Keep them guessing! … And then drag out your dark little scheme and strike at them before they recover their senses. … Adolf Hitler’s done quite a bit with that philosophy. … This bird may bear watching!’: Simon and Kirby, The Sandman, p. 69. 38 Simon and Kirby, The Sandman, p. 142. 39 John R. Katsion, ‘The Boy Commandos comic book as equipment for living: the comic book form as propaganda’, in Trischa Goodnow and James J. Kimble (eds), The 10 Cent War: Comic Books, Propaganda, and World War II (Jackson: University Press of Mississippi, 2016), pp. 80−94 (85). 40 Joe Simon and Jack Kirby, ‘The Shadow of Valhalla!’, Boy Commandos #7 (Summer 1944). 41 Simon and Kirby, ‘The Shadow of Valhalla!’ 42 Rich Morrissey, ‘Commandos in Valhalla’, in John Morrow (ed.), The Collected Jack Kirby Collector, vol. 3 (Raleigh: TwoMorrows Publishing 2004), pp. 86−7 (86). In the 1989 interview, Simon made a remark that implies he and Kirby may have had a hand in the creation: ‘Before we went into the service, DC wanted us to turn out several years’ worth of Boy Commandos, and the quickest way we possibly could. So at that time, I would write the stories on the drawing board. Jack would pencil it, we would have another guy outlining it, we’d have a guy lettering it. And Jack and I most of the time would pitch in and throw the blacks in’: Musial, ‘More than your average Joe’, p. 42. 43 Simon and Kirby, ‘The Shadow of Valhalla!’ 44 Sturluson, Edda, p. 21. 45 Simon and Kirby, ‘The Shadow of Valhalla!’ 46 For a detailed analysis of these and various other comics leading up to the earliest Marvel comics about the Mighty Thor, see Jón Karl Helgason, Echoes of Valhalla: The Afterlife of the Eddas and Sagas, trans. Jane Victoria Appleton (London: Reaktion Books, 2017), pp. 18−32. 47 Cord A. Scott, Comics and Conflict: Patriotism and Propaganda from WWII through Operation Iraqi Freedom (Annapolis: Naval Institute Press, 2014), p. 18. 48 I would like to thank Simon Halink, Tim William Machan, Zachary Melton, and Julie Summers for their valuable comments and efforts to improve this essay in its earlier stages.

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

12 ‘There’s no going back’: The Dark Knight and Balder’s descent to Hel Dustin Geeraert

What’s so great about these characters is they’ve been around so long and they’ve been through so many iterations that it’s a little like Shakespeare: it’s people coming in and having their own take on a familiar character and viewing it through a different lens. I think the Joker particularly was a lesson for me because that character can connect to the peyote stories of Native American mythology, and Loki in Norse mythology. Jonathan Nolan, co-writer of The Dark Knight1

In 1990 the American novelist William T. Vollmann envisioned the earliest contact among Norse explorers and First Nations peoples, locating the trickster figure at the boundary between parallel worlds, cultures, and mythologies.2 As my epigraph from Jonathan Nolan suggests, the makers of the acclaimed Batman film The Dark Knight (2008) shared Vollmann’s regard for the crosscultural power of trickster stories. Myths have been described in terms of archetypes and memes, because they adapt into many forms while still retaining key features in their various manifestations for each generation. Thus, ‘reception’ can turn out to be much more complex than simply source study. Terms like adaptation, appropriation, construction, and invention might better characterise any number of purported medieval North Atlantic works that often explore the speculative and the legendary, rather than the historical. But while the nineteenth century retold (and combined) major Norse myths in order to produce many ‘national epics’, the twentieth and twenty-first centuries have refracted mythological figures into culture in more complex ways. In the modern information age, indeed, sceptical trends in scholarship have corresponded with increased creative liberties in new cultural responses to archetypal stories, which thus occur in an increasing proliferation of forms. Nolan’s notion of theatrical performance offers insight into The Dark Knight by locating the film in a symbolic tradition; indeed, it

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

216

Recasting the past

can be seen as a response to the entire history of its principal comic book characters, as well as to elements that gradually became established there by reiteration. Foremost among these is the tragedy of dynastic failure, manifested poignantly in the hero’s loss of an heir. Comparisons between the heroic stories of modern comic books on the one hand, and those found in premodern mythological traditions on the other, have taken many forms. Many scholars and writers have suggested that American superhero comics constitute a modern mythology, which is in fact the subtitle of a critical study by Richard Reynolds.3 But as Umberto Eco once observed, unlike traditional myths, which were conceived of as having occurred in the primordial past or on a timeless plane, comic books take place in a perpetual present.4 Thus, Batman and the Joker continue their battle decade after decade, even as the architecture, culture, and technology of Gotham City evolve around them. Because of this element of continuity, Steve Brie emphasises, such conflicts are in effect ritually repeated in comic books and other media: ‘These fictions offer the reader interrogations of a series of myths and archetypes, which are universally recognizable.’5 The mythological vocabulary for analysing archetypal elements in superhero comic books has often been framed in biblical or classical terms, but at least one expert commentator (Dennis O’Neil) identifies Norse traditions as key. Drawing on his work as Batman ‘group editor’, which involved coordinating many ongoing stories by many creators across multiple media, O’Neil suggests that archetypal elements emerge from the consensus of many contributors, together with reader reception: A myth is a story that generations have agreed on – and any character who’s been visible for more than fifty years has to be a folk hero. Batman has been molded by too many disparate influences not to be … Readers insist that the characters’ biographies, and the fictional universes they inhabit, be consistent, logical, and self-­ referential. We don’t produce mere stories anymore … ‘Metafiction’? ‘Macrofiction’? Let’s settle for saga, and define it as a series of heroic tales that, although complete in themselves, are serially related and are part of a much larger fictional construct.6

O’Neil’s identification of the famous myths and sagas of medieval Icelandic literature as the closest premodern narrative analogy to the interwoven stories of modern comic books points the way toward an Old Norse reading of quintessential Batman stories like The Dark Knight. Prior to discussing the film itself, however, I want

Norse The Dark gods, Knight US and comics Balder’s and the descent Second to World Hel War

217

to elucidate O’Neil’s analogy by considering how sagas, myths, and folk tales, like comic books, reveal the shaping of cultural memory through audience selection.

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

Comic book folklore, narrative selection, and cultural memory Identifying the ways in which the stages of blood feud escalate toward tragedy in many Icelandic sagas, John Lindow observes that these same patterns recur elsewhere as well: ‘Something like this structure could easily be applied to the whole of Scandinavian mythology if it is systematised, especially if the Baldr story is placed at its center.’7 Despite their divergent settings, Lindow notes, ‘the sagas in the fairly recent past, the mythology in illo tempore’, both genres replicate this same ‘basic narrative curve’; and the purest form of this curve can be found at the boundary between the two, in heroic legend – which is defined perhaps above all by its grand funerals and vengeance vows.8 Similar elements of heroic legend recur throughout the history of Batman stories, whose hero Bruce Wayne has pursued his endless feud with organised crime since the murder of both his parents was first described in Detective Comics #27 (1939). Inspired by certain works of Leonardo da Vinci, Bob Kane (1915–98) and Bill Finger (1914–74) envisioned a ‘Bat-man’ who used gadgetry and technological inventions to hunt criminals from the sky, while cultivating a sinister supernatural legend around himself so as to intimidate his enemies.9 He first encountered his antithesis the Joker, created by Jerry Robinson (1922–2011), in Batman #1 (1940), from which The Dark Knight drew inspiration. By the time Robinson was hired as a consultant on the film, he had seen his creation develop from a few initial images and words to a mass-culture figure instantly recognisable to millions.10 In 1942 the creators introduced another character, someone caught between Batman’s crusade for justice and the Joker’s lawless evil. Originally inspired by Robert Louis Stevenson’s novel The Strange Case of Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde (1886), this character was the deranged criminal Two-Face, who was once the shining district attorney Harvey Dent. All the characters of these new horror stories were subject to the same cultural pressures as their mythic predecessors: ‘Look at Dracula, squint a bit’, observes Dennis O’Neil, ‘and you see the Batman’.11 Founded in 1954, the Comics Code Authority caused these darker elements of the Batman stories to be set aside for decades. However, as readership grew, readers

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

218

Recasting the past

not only voted with their dollars via sales, but also expressed their own views in the letters sections printed at the end of each issue. O’Neil and others have noted the readership’s tendency to drive the characters and stories in a ‘darker’ direction over the decades. Indeed, such feedback was formally incorporated in A Death in the Family, which Glenn Weldon summarises as ‘the notorious 1988–89 saga when readers voted to kill off the new Robin, Jason Todd, and the Joker beat the youngster to death with a crowbar’. It is notable that Weldon, like O’Neil, favours an Old Norse heroic term when seeking a genre description of this tragic plot. ‘Two versions of Batman #428 had been prepared’, Weldon explains, ‘but when the 10,514 calls were tallied, the readers had voted to kill Robin. The margin was narrow – just 72 votes.’12 O’Neil notes that he and his fellow writers were overwhelmed by the public response to this episode: ‘This stuff, I’m convinced, has the psychological and moral weight of folklore. Therefore yes, people do respond, more than if I made up a character in a short story then killed him off.’13 While those who wished for comic books to affirm a socially responsible view of morality were horrified that a fan-sanctioned storyline involved a sadistic clown kidnapping, torturing, and murdering the ‘Boy Wonder’, the authority of the Comics Code Authority had by this time dissipated. Later, in fact, this controversial moment became a key point in the ‘canon’ of Batman stories (at least as determined by the publisher), with a possible reference to the vote in The Dark Knight when the Joker offers audiences a selection of victims, quipping: ‘You choose!’14 This Joker is a filmmaker and Gothamites his terrified audience, just as in the comics he makes metafictional comments and occasionally even breaks the fourth wall. When Batman writers began to push boundaries with darker, more adult-oriented storylines in the 1970s, one reader wrote in to praise the creators for depicting ‘the REAL Joker … grotesque, insane, fiendishly brilliant’.15 The emphasis on the term real may seem strange in the case of a fictional character, but if an archetype is indeed ‘an image that’s part of everyone’s psyche’,16 as O’Neil suggests, then this reader was simply letting the creators know, in a kind of folkloric affirmation or narrative-selection, that their images matched to a high degree of fidelity. Indeed, when writerdirector Christopher Nolan and actor Heath Ledger first met to discuss the possible inclusion of a version of the ‘Joker’ character in a live action film (for the first time since Jack Nicholson had played the role in Tim Burton’s 1989 Batman), Nolan realised that they

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

Norse The Dark gods, Knight US and comics Balder’s and the descent Second to World Hel War

219

had independently converged on the same interpretation. Ledger put it strikingly: ‘We had identical images within our minds.’17 O’Neil’s reference to ‘the psychological weight of folklore’ suggests a living tradition with an active audience, something that is being constantly reorganised by ongoing reiteration, reception, and response. The idea of such stories playing the role of folklore fits with the fact that they have inspired the best in communities and the worst in individuals. In order to grant the wish of a fiveyear-old child fighting cancer who wanted to be Batman for a day, for example, San Francisco was transformed into Gotham City by means of a mass day-long ceremony or public enactment in which thousands of locals participated.18 Conversely, in Aurora, Colorado, a man who murdered theatre-goers at a Batman film called himself the Joker as police arrested him.19 While The Dark Knight was being filmed, public interest became so intense that fans attempted to spy on and infiltrate the production. In response, the filmmakers decided to use the Joker to keep audiences busy. The announcement of Ledger’s casting as the Joker in The Dark Knight had initially been met with a hostile reaction; indeed, derogatory epithets like ‘Brokeback Batman’, in reference to the fact that Ledger had previously starred as a gay cowboy in the film Brokeback Mountain (2005), were widely used online. Neither this reaction, nor the tragedy of the actor’s untimely death after the conclusion of production, prevented the filmmakers from proceeding with their plan to use Ledger’s subversively creative version of the Joker (alongside Aaron Eckhart’s Harvey Dent) to promote the film. To involve fans, they launched an Alternate Reality Game, which John Weich defines as a cross ‘between a neighborhood scavenger hunt and street theater’, with ‘digital technology as its connective tissue’. Audience involvement is key, as ‘ARGs transfer the storytelling ownership to the players’.20 With a design document running to 1800 pages, the ARG for The Dark Knight – ‘Why So Serious?’ – cultivated participation on a vast scale: ‘thirty-four weeks of interactive storytelling; an active engagement of eleven million fans in seventy-six countries; a total reach of 129 million’.21 Clues included ‘newspapers, fictitious police reports, audio surveillances, real-life bat signals projected onto buildings, airplane sky writing, hidden bags in bowling alleys, and cell phones stuffed inside ornate birthday cakes’.22 By the time of the film’s release, fans were convinced that Ledger portrayed the ‘REAL’ Joker, and the actor later won a posthumous Academy Award for this role. Indeed, the online campaign to stop Ledger from playing the Joker

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

220

Recasting the past

was replaced by a campaign to stop other actors from playing the Joker, and the next actor to attempt the role in a live action film (Suicide Squad, produced in 2016) was widely panned. There has been at least one previous attempt at a ‘mythological’ reading of The Dark Knight: Lorenzo Garcia’s discussion of the film in relation to Euripides’ play Bacchae. But while both Nolan brothers hold degrees in literature and may well have studied classical mythology, Garcia argues that independent evocation of mythic patterns is the more likely explanation of the similarities he describes: By refocusing on these archetypes, a more plausible hypothesis for the similarities between Bacchae and The Dark Knight emerges. Rather than viewing the process of interpretation as a case of Nolan drawing directly on Euripides, both texts interpret the same archetypal mythic narrative: Bacchae being a formal and conscious adaptation and The Dark Knight a ‘subterranean’ appropriation.23

In fact, archetypal expressions have often appeared within comic books themselves, as when multiple characters take on the roles of Batman and the Joker as if consciously acting as the avatars of a higher force. Frank Miller’s dystopian The Dark Knight Returns (1986), for example, tells a non-canonical ‘Death of Robin’ story that treats the Joker as a nearly supernatural evil.24 Similarly, the cover of a 2012 Scott Snyder Batman story depicts the Joker in a manner that recalls the Cheshire Cat in Lewis Carroll’s Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland (1865): eyes and grinning teeth stand out in pitch darkness, while two white gloves hold up a mask made of a human face.25 The archetypal quality of the Joker’s depiction appears in the way it evokes still other well-known images, such as The Silence of the Lambs (1991), in which a murderer wears his victim’s face as a mask, or Poe’s paranormal ‘The Masque of the Red Death’ (1845), wherein an evil spirit animates a corpselike costume at an aristocrat’s feast. The Joker’s earlier criminal persona, The Red Hood, was in fact directly inspired by Poe’s tale, and this role, in turn, became caught up with the death of Robin story in Under the Red Hood (2004–6). In designing the look of the Joker for The Dark Knight, Lindy Hemming used Francis Bacon’s macabre paintings, which feature tortured distortions of the human form, as visual references.26 As Marcus Maloney notes: ‘the character’s permanently fixed malevolent grin becomes in this film, a “Glasgow smile”; the scars left by … slicing a person’s face from the edges of the mouth towards

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

Norse The Dark gods, Knight US and comics Balder’s and the descent Second to World Hel War

221

each ear’.27 Despite his scarred face and the fact that he has a unique and untraceable costume (just like Batman himself, who even tells a Batman impersonator, ‘I’m not wearing hockey pads’), the Joker is constantly able to disguise himself throughout the film.28 Further obscuring the characters’ identities, as Jesse Kavadlo notes, The Dark Knight introduces its hero and villain in scenes featuring fake doubles wearing similar masks.29 In this arms race between deception and detection, of course, it is Batman’s alter ego Bruce Wayne himself, having learned in Batman Begins that ‘Deception and theatricality are powerful agents’, who introduces the element of disguise and the tactical use of symbolism. As if he has discovered an archetypal shadow of Batman, police officer (later commissioner) James Gordon informs Batman of a ‘Joker’ who leaves clues behind at crime scenes, thereby indicating ‘a taste for theatrics, like you’.30 As the film proceeds, the success of such deceptive tactics is everywhere emphasised: the Joker disguises himself as a corpse, Dent claims to be Batman, and Gordon fakes his own death. Here is where yet another archetypal echo occurs. For in Norse myth and heroic legend, disguise is one of the major areas of overlap between Loki and Odin, who both disguise themselves to spy on and deceive others. The key in their war of information proves to be the ominously guarded fate of Balder – and the fate of not only the Æsir but of the whole world with him. It is to this specifically Norse connection that I now turn in order to read The Dark Knight against Norse mythology. Acting out your own death: Balder at the Thing In the shadow play acting out your own death knowing no more, As the assassins all grouped in four lines dancing on the floor. And with cold steel, odour on their bodies, made a move to connect, I could only stare in disbelief as the crowds all left.31

When Balder, the shining god of justice and reconciliation as well as the widely loved heir of Asgard, dreams that his life is in danger, his parents, Odin and Frigg, seek a means of protecting him.32 Frigg goes so far as to require that all things swear oaths of nonaggression toward Balder, and only the young plant, mistletoe, neglects to do so. With Balder thus seeming invincible, the gods make a sport of hurling weapons at him, all of which fall harmlessly at his feet. The ritual of killing, it seems, will never become the real

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

222

Recasting the past

thing. Loki’s actions, however, prove definitive at the core of the Balder myth. Disguised as a woman, he tricks Frigg into revealing that mistletoe is Balder’s one secret weakness and then lures the blind god Hod into throwing the lethal projectile at Balder. Loki’s ability to find out secrets like this one, it is important to note, seems to relate both to his status as a shapeshifter and to the corruption of those in whose ranks he moves. The Balder-figure in The Dark Knight is district attorney Harvey Dent, whose stand against crime in Gotham inspires hope in the city’s citizens. A charismatic and just figure, he seeks to bring peace through lawful methods and to heal the divisions created by decades of depression, corruption, and crime. He recognises that Batman’s violent, illegal methods of fighting crime are unsustainable, and there is an implicit agreement between the two men that Dent is a kind of heir, whose success will make Batman unnecessary.33 The notion of an heir for Batman is in fact a core scenario in the comic books, from The Dark Knight Returns to A Death in the Family and Knightfall, but so, too, is the death or corruption of that heir. Sometimes the heir even returns from torture or death as a villain, much as the ‘Boy Wonder’ Jason Todd returned as the spectre-like Red Hood in Under the Red Hood. In The Dark Knight, Dent is threatened with death from his very first appearance. As part of a plan to restore integrity to Gotham City, he confidently prosecutes a mafia boss, while remaining unaware that a weapon has been smuggled into court: Rossi JUMPS UP, points a GUN at Dent’s face. SCREAMS from the gallery. Rossi PULLS the TRIGGER – the gun MISFIRES with a POP. Dent steps forward, grabs the GUN – DECKS Rossi with a RIGHT CROSS – unloads the GUN and sets it down in front of Maroni. DENT Ceramic 28 caliber. Made in China. If you want to kill a public servant, Mr. Maroni, I recommend you buy American. Everyone STARES, open-mouthed, as Dent adjusts his tie.34

Hoping to restore the rule of law legitimately, Dent proceeds to insist on taking his would-be assassin’s testimony. But this courtroom assassination attempt foreshadows repeated mock­ executions of Dent, which, like the eerie premonitions of Balder’s death, seem to get a little closer to the real thing with each repetition. The mayor warns Dent: ‘They’re all coming after you, now.’35 Yet Dent refuses to be intimidated; he even jokes about how he

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

Norse The Dark gods, Knight US and comics Balder’s and the descent Second to World Hel War

223

expects to be assassinated. Shortly afterwards, the Joker pitches himself as a killer-for-hire to the mafia, warning them that ‘Dent’s just the beginning’.36 Desperate after Batman’s ‘hammering’ of organised crime, they agree. Thus, the Joker begins his campaign of terror by murdering a Batman impersonator and leaving his body to be discovered near the mayor’s office, in a public spectacle that he himself later considers one of his greatest triumphs in causing widespread panic.37 An anxiety about secrecy, reminiscent of that in the Balder myth, runs through The Dark Knight. For example, Gordon warns Dent that, since corruption is rampant, very few of their colleagues can actually be trusted: ‘In this town, the fewer people know something, the safer the operation.’38 Nevertheless, the Joker publicly reveals that he has somehow obtained a sample of Dent’s DNA, similar to Loki’s extraction of the mistletoe secret. As threatening as the Joker’s demonstration that he has somehow infiltrated Dent’s inner circle of key law enforcement personnel may be – and the Joker in fact proves able to assassinate a number of other high-profile officials, even at supposedly secret locations – at least initially Batman is able to save Dent, much as Balder is able to survive the gods’ barrage of projectiles. When the Joker continues to terrorise the city and threatens to kill the mayor (by publishing a ‘future eulogy’ for him), the mayor proceeds to lead the public funeral of the recently assassinated police commissioner in order to inspire confidence in the continued rule of law. In this world of secrecy and deception, no one suspects that the Joker’s infiltration extends even to the guards: A SEA OF POLICE fills the Avenue. In the center, three grieving families and an HONOR GUARD. The Mayor at the podium. Gordon behind. Dent is seated with Rachel. THE MAYOR … and as we recognize the sacrifice of these officers, we must remember that vigilance is the price of safety … INT. TENEMENT – CONTINUOUS Wayne enters: EIGHT MEN IN UNDERSHIRTS, bound, gagged, blindfolded. A SNIPER SCOPE on a tripod at the window… THE HONOR GUARD TURN THEIR WEAPONS ON THE MAYOR. One SMILES, flesh-colored makeup over his scars. THE JOKER.39

As in the case of Balder at the Thing, a ritual death becomes the real thing when a malicious infiltrator rigs the weaponry involved. If the captured and blindfolded honour guards recall the blind god

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

224

Recasting the past

Hod, who cannot see that he holds the fatal mistletoe, so too do their captors, who use the guards’ weapons to fire real bullets, dissolving the orderly assertions of solidarity of the funeral into panic and chaos. As the false honour guards are revealed to be assassins, even more shots are fired, and the recently promoted police commissioner Gordon is hit as he tries to save the mayor. With the crowd scattering, civil order is replaced by riots. Einar Haugen has called Loki ‘Óðinn’s shadow, his alter ego’, who plots Balder’s death just as Odin seeks to predict and prevent it.40 Invoking Indo-European mythology, Georges Dumézil more broadly argues that Balder ‘is not attached to the warrior aspect of Óðinn, but to his sovereign aspect of which he offers a purer conception, presently unrealizable, which is reserved for the future … the present age has become irremediable’.41 Indeed, Loki does not himself kill Balder but rather tricks Balder’s brother Hod into hurling the mistletoe spear, thereby not only killing the beloved god but also enabling his own escape. Balder then passes from Odin and Frigg’s protection, and becomes the hostage of Loki and Hel. When the gods send an emissary to attempt to recover Balder from Hel, she refuses to ransom the god unless all things weep for his death. In disguise as the giantess Thokk (Thanks), Loki refuses, and so Balder can never return. Thokk seems happy, although the world weeps for Balder’s departure; as Judy Quinn notes, Thokk ‘relishes the prospect that Hel (Loki’s own daughter) will retain Baldr’.42 Loki’s choice to appear as a giantess rather than a giant may itself be significant since, as Ármann Jakobsson points out, Loki’s ‘most successful acts of vandalism are performed in female guise’.43 Here, as elsewhere, Loki is associated with any number of the female figures who are so intricately linked with a passage to the underworld in Norse myth; it is also worth noting Loki’s ability to give birth to monsters in this context.44 The Balder myth, in all its details, resonates strongly throughout The Dark Knight. Provoked by the disaster at the funeral, Dent makes his first journey to Gotham City’s underworld when he illegally interrogates a criminal in the basement of a condemned building.45 Batman even warns Dent to stay on the ‘light’ side: ‘You’re the symbol of hope that I could never be.’46 But as Marcus Maloney observes, there is a counter-influence that wishes to drag Dent to the dark side: ‘If Dent is Batman’s righteous progeny, the film’s principal villain, The Joker, emerges as the superhero’s shadow self.’47 Indeed, the film equivalent of Balder’s descent to Hel occurs when, in a ‘little game’ the Joker plays, Dent and his

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

Norse The Dark gods, Knight US and comics Balder’s and the descent Second to World Hel War

225

girlfriend Rachel Dawes are protected by Batman only to be kidnapped by corrupt police officers. Just as Loki implicates Odin’s own family in the death of Balder, then, the Joker involves the police with the fates of Dent and Dawes, and dynastic implications ensue in both cases.48 Each hostage is held in a separate location with a timed detonator and with full phone service between the two, so that the recently engaged couple can listen to one another die. Dawes is killed in an explosion before the police can rescue her; while Batman rescues Dent, half of Dent’s face and body is horrifically burned, and he is never the same again. For Dent, this journey to the dark side is permanent. The Joker in fact warns Batman that ‘[t]here’s no going back’, and Dent himself later admits: ‘There is no escape from this.’49 Much as Odin whispers secret words into the ear of his dead son at Balder’s funeral pyre, Batman, still hoping that Dent will recover, visits his unconscious heir in the hospital. ‘I’m sorry, Harvey’, he says,50 and leaves behind Dent’s double-headed ‘lucky’ coin, one side of which has now become burned. The hospital proves hellish indeed for Dent when, in the midst of being evacuated during another of the Joker’s bomb threats, the wounded Dent receives a visit from a nurse who proves to be the Joker in a cross-dressing disguise that recalls Loki’s appearance as Thokk. Echoing Hel’s gracious reception of Balder with high honour, the terrorist who killed his fiancé and mutilated him tells Dent: ‘I don’t want there to be any hard feelings between us, Harvey.’ Now, the Joker explains, they are really on the same side, because ‘schemers trying to control their little worlds’ are ‘pathetic’ and ‘Chaos is Fair’.51 Wearing an ‘I Believe in Harvey Dent’ campaign pin, the ‘Nurse Joker’ completes the disturbed Dent’s ghastly transformation. Gregory Desilet writes, ‘Fate becomes the agent, which fits his [Dent’s] new understanding of himself as a victim of fate and fate as his new god to worship. This choice, however, amounts to a complete capitulation to the Joker. This is the precise moment when Dent becomes Two-Face.’52 Corrupted by these torments, Dent emerges from the hospital as a shell of a man. Dressed in the same scorched suit he was wearing when his fiancé died, he presents a Hel-like physical appearance, with half of his face healthy and the other side blue-black, the skin burned away and the skull exposed. The district attorney who fought for justice is gone, replaced by a spectre of vengeance who uses a coin toss to decide whether to kill; if the burned side lands face up, death is the result. Lindow has argued that the main goal of Balder’s funeral is to avoid any

226

Recasting the past

hellish resurrection, but in the final act of The Dark Knight, TwoFace wreaks havoc.53 Before his own death Dent even screams at Wayne: ‘You thought we could be decent men in an indecent world!’54

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

Watching the world burn: Loki in Ægir’s hall An abyss that laughs at creation, A circus complete with all fools, Foundations that lasted the ages, Then ripped apart at their roots.55

One of the signature routines of the Ledger/Nolan Joker is his challenge to his victims and enemies to explain the origins of his own horrific behaviour. He asks three separate characters: ‘Do you want to know how I got these scars?’ In each case, he gives a different answer, recalling the comic book precedent of The Killing Joke, where the Joker quips of the trauma that supposedly created his evil persona: ‘If I’m going to have a past, I prefer it to be multiple choice.’56 The Gothic traditions underlying the Batman stories have always involved a confrontation between rationalising science and potentially inexplicable forces of evil; one reviewer went so far as to call this Joker ‘a nihilistic enemy whose motives are both unexplained and beside the point’.57 Even when the police have the Joker in their custody, they are unable to discover his identity: ‘Nothing. No matches on prints, DNA, dental.’58 A selfdescribed ‘Agent of Chaos’, Ledger’s Joker was recognised by another reviewer as a ‘sinister and shattering’ portrayal of ‘purely archetypal evil’.59 Like the Loki of later Norse myths, whose earlier ‘culture hero’ role has been abandoned in favour of a purely destructive one by the time he brings about the death of Balder, the Joker proves to be an ‘apocalyptic trickster’.60 Indeed, the transition occurs the moment that Loki takes on the role of infiltrator and begins what Quinn calls ‘undercover operations in his campaign to remove Baldr from Ásgarðr’.61 Following Jonathan Nolan’s connection of the Joker to the archetype of the trickster in the form of the Norse demigod Loki, we might propose another answer to the question of how he got his scars: he inherited them from previous disfigured jester archetypes.62 Kevin Wanner observes that in Norse myth, for example, disfigurement among the Æsir is often a special marker of divine abilities.63 In Loki’s case, his mouth is scarred when he stakes his head on a bet with a dwarf, but saves his life by claiming

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

Norse The Dark gods, Knight US and comics Balder’s and the descent Second to World Hel War

227

that the dwarf has no right to his neck. Tired of his manipulations, the dwarf stiches his mouth shut, then rips the stiches out. Wanner describes the results with gruesome precision: ‘Loki’s lips [were] left like the ragged edge of a sheet of notebook paper that has been torn from its spiral binder. Such damage to the lips of a human being would certainly prove disfiguring.’64 However unsavoury the resulting appearance might be, Loki proves a master manipulator, often able to deceive, trick, seduce, provoke, and ultimately betray others. Wanner observes: ‘As Óðinn’s signature powers relate to vision, Heimdallr’s to hearing, and Þórr’s to violence, Loki’s have largely to do with his mouth.’65 This is the characteristic that Philip Anderson sees in ‘Loki’s Quarrel’ (‘Lokasenna’), an Eddic poem in which Loki interrogates the gods: The majority of the stanzas of the poem are written in ljo´ðaháttr, ‘chant’ or ‘song’ meter. There is a variation of this six line stanza called, significantly, galdralag, ‘incantation’ or ‘magic song’ meter … all four stanzas in galdralag (st. 13, 54, 62, 65) are spoken by Loki; they carry more weight than the basic ljo´ðaháttr stanzas, and they represent attempts by Loki to use magic to increase his power and influence in his confrontations with the gods.66

Balder’s death occurs in the context of the ongoing feud between the gods and the giants: one of the latter has killed one of the former, and so negotiation must occur if the balance is to be restored by any means other than vengeance. Following Balder’s death, the results of this feud might be seen in the setting of ‘Loki’s Quarrel’ in the hall of the giant Ægir, where representatives of the Æsir, the Vanir, and the giants are all present.67 Loki is not invited, yet he crashes the meeting and demonstrates his verbal prowess by his successful defiance of many of the most important beings in Norse mythology, including gods and goddesses of both the Æsir and Vanir, and giants and giantesses as well. He adds insult to injury by publicly revealing the scandalous secrets of those present, thus probably also sabotaging peace negotiations. Throughout, he throws accusations of evil back at his enemies, taunting them with their failures, charging them with hypocrisy, and tricking them into making predictable responses. Just as he violates the sanctuary of the Thing by causing the killing of Balder, so Loki violates the sanctuary of Ægir’s hall with his blasphemies. Only Thor can make Loki leave, for the aggressive Thunderer, like Batman, simply goes ‘beyond the restraints of civilized life’.68 Yet perhaps Loki’s most devastating trait is his

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

228

Recasting the past

ability to ferret out secret information, for this allows him not only to kill Balder, but to threaten the whole divine edifice. In ‘Loki’s Quarrel’ Loki aims to reveal, to use Dumézil’s phrasing, the irremediable nature of the present age. As John McKinnell evaluates Loki’s disclosures, ‘It looks as if we are meant to take it that the accusations are basically true throughout, although they may be couched in a biased form.’69 By revealing these secrets (including secret betrayals) in a very public context, Haugen notes, Loki aims ‘to demolish the reputations of the gods’.70 Like the Norse trickster, the Joker likewise crashes every party and infiltrates every sanctuary; and he always knows just how to manipulate his rivals. Indeed, he thrives so much in an ‘interrogation’ environment that long-running fan theories suggest that Ledger’s ‘Joker’ character, set against the context of 9/11 and the Iraq War, was meant to be ex-military.71 When a rogue’s gallery of criminals from Gotham’s underworld meets to decide what to do about Batman, the Joker is able to sneak into an area where everyone else has been disarmed, while fully armed himself. When the city’s elites meet atop a shimmering skyscraper for a political fundraiser for Dent, the Joker again steals in with live weapons; he seems to have connections everywhere. In Quinn’s striking interpretation, ‘Loki’s Quarrel’ turns on secret infidelities as a kind of genetic warfare; and this in turn informs Loki’s tactic of the undermining of marriages and heirs.72 Like ‘Loki’s Quarrel’, the ‘Joker crashes Dent’s fundraiser’ scene reveals an undercurrent of adultery, as when the hero accidentally interrupts a secret liaison while on his way to fight the Joker.73 It also involves a ‘love triangle’, as Wayne and Dent vie for Dawes’s attention. Ashley Cocksworth characterises the Joker as aiming to conduct an ‘interrogation of Gotham City’s moral order’.74 Like Loki in Ægir’s hall, indeed, the Joker’s intuitive exploitation of hidden tensions and contradictions allows him to turn the tables on his opponents: ‘They’re only as good as the world allows them to be.’75 According to Lewis Hyde, trickster stories in general often reflect such an evolution of intelligence, evident in the symbolic associations of boundary-crossing, shape-shifting, mimicry, mockery, cunning, the testing of limits, and the violation of taboos: ‘The trickster is the archetype who attacks all archetypes … who threatens to take the myth apart.’76 Indeed, the butler Alfred recognises the Joker as one of a rare type: those who simply want ‘to watch the world burn’.77 This remark proves prophetic, as the Joker later incinerates a pyramid of money and betrays even his

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

Norse The Dark gods, Knight US and comics Balder’s and the descent Second to World Hel War

229

mafia benefactors. While dogs bark threateningly, he explains that for him the ultimate goal is chaos itself: ‘It’s not about money. It’s about sending a message… Everything. Burns.’78 Indeed, atop the inferno a corrupt banker burns, along with the mafia’s hoard of stolen billions, as the Joker prepares to plunge the city into anarchy. This striking scene was produced the same year as financial crises in both America and Iceland; and it was also this scene that led early reviewer Kathleen Wasik to see a connection between this Joker and Loki.79 In fact, throughout the film, from Dent’s disfigurement to this bonfire of billions, the same pattern recurs: police officers and criminals alike, lit by firelight, react with horror as the Joker bombs buildings, burns vehicles and valuables, and kills hostages. He also burns the bridges between people by revealing their untrustworthiness, hoping by doing so to cause strife and disorder. In these images of fire, we see another parallel to the conclusion of ‘Loki’s Quarrel’ where, driven out by Thor, Loki calls down the fires of Ragnarok: Ale you brewed, Ægir, and you will never again hold a feast; all your possessions which are here inside – may flame play over them, and may your back be burnt!80

‘The only natural conclusion of’ “Loki’s Quarrel”’, A. G. van Hamel maintains, ‘is that by Loki’s powerful word the hall is set on fire. Before the eyes of the awe-stricken gods the mead-house is turned into burning flames.’81 Lindow similarly notes that the fiery imagery surrounding Balder’s death anticipates that of Ragnarok,82 while Quinn emphasises that in the death of Balder myth, gold gives the Æsir no leverage at all in negotiating with Hel (or Loki).83 At the climax of The Dark Knight, Batman builds an illegal machine that captures, decodes, and tracks all electronic data sent throughout Gotham City. This Patriot Act-like surveillance is so invasive that his own head scientist, Lucius Fox, resigns in protest.84 The film repeatedly shows Batman overlooking the city, spying on the world like Odin himself, though his universal surveillance is accomplished by electronic signals and not the reports of ravens or the watchman Heimdall. Grant Morrison warns about the perils of electronic dependency (or even addiction) in mythical terms, namely that we have become far too ‘[c]ozy at our screens in the all-consuming glare of Odin’s eye’.85 In the film, in any case,

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

230

Recasting the past

Batman’s world-spying vision does help him to locate the Joker, just as Odin’s access to visionary powers at the throne Hlidskjalf helps him locate Loki after his flight from Ægir’s hall at the conclusion of ‘Loki’s Quarrel’. Loki, whose infiltration has proven so devastating, is finally caught, punished, and bound until the end of time. The defeat of the Joker occurs when he, like Loki, outsmarts himself (Loki is caught in a device of his own making, the net). In a ‘prisoner’s dilemma’ scenario designed to shatter all solidarity between the city’s people, he offers the citizens themselves the chance to participate in mass murder. Many prove willing to kill others in order to save themselves or their loved ones (or at least to vote for this to occur), but the scheme falters when a gigantic tattooed prisoner refuses and throws his detonator overboard, sacrificing himself to stop the ‘fireworks’. The Joker still holds Dent’s medical team from the hospital as hostages, but they are dressed as clowns, while his own soldiers are dressed in the abducted doctors’ clothes. This ruse fools a SWAT team into attacking the wrong targets, and Batman finds himself fighting law enforcement and criminals alike – just like the Joker. The rivals are revealed to be two sides of the same coin: the more the Joker creates anarchy in the streets, the more Batman resorts to totalitarian measures in response; and Dent’s legitimate lawfulness is torn apart between the two. They even share responsibility for Dent’s death with Batman as Handbani (‘killer by hand’) and the Joker as Raðbani (‘killer by conspiracy’). Finally captured alive by Batman, who tells him, ‘You’ll be in a padded cell forever’, the Joker looks on tearing down the shining district attorney as his greatest accomplishment: ‘I took Gotham’s white knight. And I brought him down to my level.’86 Destroyer of the hero Harvey Dent, and midwife to the spectre Two-Face, the Joker achieves a lasting victory in the ‘battle for the soul of Gotham’.87 The film’s conclusion, with its overtones of scapegoating, martyrdom, and sacrifice, suggests that an irreversible loss has occurred. This is an archetypal story about vengeance, dynastic failure, and descent to the underworld. Examining The Dark Knight in mythological terms shows that inspiration can echo through cultures in complex ways. Parallels can emerge subconsciously as readers ‘recognise’ archetypal characters amid a proliferation of forms; we might even use terms like replication. Even in new worlds, the mind still summons similar dreams and nightmares.88

Norse The Dark gods, Knight US and comics Balder’s and the descent Second to World Hel War

231

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

Notes  1 Dan Jolin, ‘The making of Heath Ledger’s Joker’, Empire Online (8 July 2012), https://www.empireonline.com/movies/features/h​e​at​ ​h​-​ledgerjoker/, last updated 10 September 2018, last accessed 22 February 2019 (the interview was originally published in Empire magazine in December 2008).  2 William T. Vollmann, The Ice-Shirt: Volume of Seven Dreams, A Book of North American Landscapes (New York: Penguin, 1990).  3 Richard Reynolds, Superheroes: A Modern Mythology (Oxford: University Press of Mississippi, 1994).  4 Umberto Eco, ‘The myth of Superman’, trans. Nathalie Chilton, Diacritics, 2:1 (Spring 1972), 14–22 (15). See also Mircea Eliade, Myth and Reality, trans. Willard R. Trask (Long Grove: Waveland, 1963).  5 Steve Brie, ‘Spandex parables: justice, criminality and the ethics of vigilantism in Frank Miller’s Batman: The Dark Knight Returns and Alan Moore’s Batman: The Killing Joke’, in William T. Rossiter and Steve Brie (eds), Literature and Ethics: From the Green Knight to the Dark Knight (Newcastle: Cambridge Scholars, 2010), pp. 203−15 (203).  6 Dennis O’Neil, Batman: Knightfall (New York: Spectra, 1994), pp. 346−7.  7 John Lindow, Murder and Vengeance Among the Gods: Baldr in Scandinavian Mythology (Helsinki: Suomalainen Tiedeakatemia / ­Aca­demia Scientiaram Fennica, 1997), p. 177.  8 Lindow, Murder and Vengeance, p. 179.  9 Marcus Maloney, The Search for Meaning in Film and Television: Disenchantment at the Turn of the Millennium (New York: Palgrave, 2015), p. 46. 10 Dave Astor, ‘Cartoonist who created the Joker discusses The Dark Knight’, Editor and Publisher (24 July 2008), www.editorandpublisher. com/news/cartoonist-who-created-the-joker-discusses-the-dark-kni​ ght/, last accessed 3 January 2019. 11 O’Neil, Knightfall, p. 344. 12 Glenn Weldon, The Caped Crusade: Batman and the Rise of Nerd Culture (New York: Simon & Schuster, 2017), p. 148. 13 Quoted in Clive Bloom and Greg S. McCue, Dark Knights: The New Comics in Context (London: Pluto Press, 1993), p. 143. See also Bloom and McCue’s own discussion in the ‘Foreword’ (p. xi) and Alex Wainer, Soul of the Dark Knight: Batman as Mythic Figure in Comics and Film (Jefferson: McFarland, 2014), p. 15. 14 Christopher Nolan, Jonathan Nolan, and David S. Goyer, ‘Script: The Dark Knight’, in Craig Byrne, The Dark Knight: Featuring Production Art and Full Shooting Script (New York: Universe, 2008), pp. 66–239 (216).

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

232

Recasting the past

15 Bloom and McCue, Dark Knights, p. 117. 16 O’Neil, Knightfall, p. 344. 17 Jolin, ‘The making of Heath Ledger’s Joker’. 18 Carol Kuruvilla, ‘San Francisco turns into Gotham City for Batkid’, New York Daily News (16 November 2013), www.nydailynews.c​o​m​ /​n​e​ws/national/san-francisco-turns-gotham-city-batkid-arti​cle-1​.​1​5​1​8​ 454, last accessed 4 January 2019. 19 See Gregory E. Desilet, Screens of Blood: A Critical Approach to Film and Television Violence (Jefferson: McFarland & Company, 2014), pp. 50–60 (chapter 3, ‘The Dark Knight and a dark night in Aurora’). 20 John Weich, Storytelling on Steroids (Amsterdam: BIS, 2013), p. 56. 21 Weich, Storytelling on Steroids, p. 57. 22 Weich, Storytelling on Steroids, p. 61. 23 Lorenzo F. Garcia, Jr, ‘Dionysus comes to Gotham: forces of disorder in The Dark Knight (2008)’, in Monica S. Cyrino and Meredith E. Safran (eds), Classical Myth on Screen (New York: Palgrave Macmillan, 2015), pp. 183–93 (184); and Wainer, Soul of the Dark Knight, p. 62. 24 Frank Miller, The Dark Knight Returns (New York: DC Comics, 2014). 25 Scott Snyder, Batman: Death of the Family (New York: DC Comics, 2012). 26 Jolin, ‘The making of Heath Ledger’s Joker’. 27 Maloney, The Search for Meaning in Film, p. 62. 28 Jolin, ‘The making of Heath Ledger’s Joker’. 29 Jesse Kavadlo, American Popular Culture in the Era of Terror: Falling Skies, Dark Knights Rising, and Collapsing Cultures (Santa Barbara: Praeger, 2015), p. 171. 30 Christopher Nolan and David S. Goyer, ‘Batman begins’, unpublished screenplay, 2005, p. 149. Available online at www.nolanfans. com/batmanbegins/, last accessed 23 February 2019. 31 Joy Division, ‘Shadowplay’, Unknown Pleasures (Manchester: Factory Records, 1979). 32 Lindow, Murder and Vengeance, p. 143; see also p. 93. 33 John Ip, ‘The Dark Knight’s war on terrorism’, Ohio State Journal of Criminal Law, 9:1 (2011), 209−29 (228). 34 Nolan, Nolan, and Goyer, ‘Script: The Dark Knight’, p. 87. 35 Nolan, Nolan, and Goyer, ‘Script: The Dark Knight’, p. 121. 36 Nolan, Nolan, and Goyer, ‘Script: The Dark Knight’, p. 99. 37 Nolan, Nolan, and Goyer, ‘Script: The Dark Knight’, pp. 200−1. 38 Nolan, Nolan, and Goyer, ‘Script: The Dark Knight’, p. 89. 39 Nolan, Nolan, and Goyer, ‘Script: The Dark Knight’, pp. 144−5. 40 Einar Haugen, ‘The Edda as ritual: Odin and his masks’, in Haraldur Bessason and Robert J. Glendinning (eds), Edda: A Collection of Essays (Winnipeg: University of Manitoba Press, 1983), pp. 3−24 (16).

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

Norse The Dark gods, Knight US and comics Balder’s and the descent Second to World Hel War

233

41 Quoted in Kevin Wanner, ‘Sewn lips, propped jaws, and a silent Áss (or two): doing things with mouths in Norse myth’, JEGP: Journal of English and Germanic Philology, 111:1 (January 2012), 1−24 (16). 42 Judy Quinn, ‘What Frigg knew: the goddess as prophetess in Old Norse mythology’, in Maria Elena Ruggerini and Veronika Szöke (eds), Dee, profetesse, regine e altre figure femminili nel Medioevo germanico (Cagliari: CUEC, 2015), pp. 67−88 (86). See also Lindow, Murder and Vengeance, pp. 127−8. 43 Ármann Jakobsson, ‘Loki’s flexible masculinity: Old Norse myths and medieval notions of gender’, Limes, 12 (forthcoming). 44 Hilda R. Ellis Davidson, The Road to Hel: A Study of the Conception of the Dead in Old Norse Literature (Ann Arbor: Michigan University Press, 1943), p. 84. 45 Nolan, Nolan, and Goyer, ‘Script: The Dark Knight’, p. 150. 46 Nolan, Nolan, and Goyer, ‘Script: The Dark Knight’, p. 151. 47 Maloney, The Search for Meaning in Film, p. 61. 48 Balder’s wife Nanna dies of grief at his funeral and their bodies are burned together. 49 Nolan, Nolan, and Goyer, ‘Script: The Dark Knight’, pp. 173 and 232. 50 Nolan, Nolan, and Goyer, ‘Script: The Dark Knight’, p. 185. 51 Nolan, Nolan, and Goyer, ‘Script: The Dark Knight’, pp. 198−9. 52 Desilet, Screens of Blood, p. 70. 53 Lindow, Murder and Vengeance, p. 80. 54 Nolan, Nolan, and Goyer, ‘Script: The Dark Knight’, p. 233. See Ip, ‘The Dark Knight’s war on terrorism’, p. 228. 55 Joy Division, ‘Heart and soul’, Closer (Manchester: Factory Records, 1980). 56 Alan Moore, The Killing Joke: Deluxe Edition (New York: DC Comics, 2008). 57 Spencer Ackerman, ‘Batman’s “Dark Knight” reflects Cheney policy’, Washington Independent (21 July 2008), http://washingtonindepen dent.com/509/batmans-dark-knight-reflects-cheney-policy, last acces­ sed 3 January 2019. 58 Nolan, Nolan, and Goyer, ‘Script: The Dark Knight’, p. 170. 59 John Porterfield, ‘A review of The Dark Knight’, Psychological Perspectives, 52:2 (2009), 271−5 (272). 60 Helena Bassil-Morozow, ‘Loki then and now: the trickster against civilization’, International Journal of Jungian Studies, 9:2 (2017), 84−96 (86). See also H. R. Ellis Davidson, ‘Loki and Saxo’s Hamlet’, in Paul V. A. Williams (ed.), The Fool and the Trickster: Studies in Honour of Enid Welsford (Totowa: Rowman & Littlefield, 1979), pp. 3−17. 61 Quinn, ‘What Frigg knew’, p. 67. 62 Carolyne Larrington, The Norse Myths: A Guide to the Gods and Heroes (London: Thames & Hudson, 2017), p. 72. 63 Wanner, ‘Sewn lips, propped jaws’, p. 2.

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

234

Recasting the past

64 Wanner, ‘Sewn lips, propped jaws’, p. 9. 65 Wanner, ‘Sewn lips, propped jaws’, p. 6. See also Shawn KrauseLoner, ‘Scar-lip, Sky-walker and Mischief-monger: the Norse god Loki as Trickster’ (PhD thesis, Miami University, 2003). 66 Philip N. Anderson, ‘Form and content in Lokasenna: a re-evaluation’, in Carolyne Larrington and Paul Acker (eds), The Poetic Edda: Essays on Old Norse Mythology (New York: Routledge, 2015), pp. 139−57 (151). 67 Heinz Klingenberg argues that ‘a banquet of the gods … was capable of development into a judicial assembly’: Heinz Klingenberg, ‘Types of Eddic mythological poetry’, in Haraldur Bessason and Robert J. Glendinning (eds), Edda: A Collection of Essays (Winnipeg: University of Manitoba Press, 1983), pp. 134−64 (149). 68 Anderson, ‘Form and content in Lokasenna’, p. 150. 69 John McKinnell, ‘Motivation and meaning in Lokasenna’, in Donata Kick and John D. Shafer (eds), Essays on Eddic Poetry (Toronto: University of Toronto Press, 2014), pp. 172−99 (175). 70 Haugen, ‘The Edda as ritual’, p. 16. 71 See, for example, Jerrod MacFarlane, ‘Desperate times and desperate measures: false representation and distortion of terrorism in post-9/11 superhero films’, Critical Studies on Terrorism, 7:3 (2014), 446−55. 72 Quinn, ‘What Frigg knew’, p. 77. 73 Nolan, Nolan, and Goyer, ‘Script: The Dark Knight’, p. 134. 74 Ashley Cocksworth, ‘The Dark Knight and the evilness of evil’, Expository Times, 120:11 (2009), 541–3 (541). 75 Nolan, Nolan, and Goyer, ‘Script: The Dark Knight’, p. 174. 76 Lewis Hyde, Trickster Makes This World: Mischief, Myth and Art (New York: Farrar, Straus and Giroux, 2010), p. 14. 77 Nolan, Nolan, and Goyer, ‘Script: The Dark Knight’, p. 138. 78 Nolan, Nolan, and Goyer, ‘Script: The Dark Knight’, p. 191. 79 Quoted in John Wasik, ‘Why the Dark Knight haunts us’, Daily Wombat (12 August 2008), http://dailywombat.blogspot.com/2008/08/ why-dark-knight-haunts-us.html, last accessed 4 January 2019. 80 The Poetic Edda, ed. and trans. Carolyne Larrington, rev. edn (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2014), p. 91. 81 A. G. van Hamel, ‘The prose frame of Lokasenna’, Neophilologus, 14:1 (1929), 204–14 (213). 82 Lindow, Murder and Vengeance, p. 175. 83 Quinn, ‘What Frigg knew’, p. 15. 84 Nolan, Nolan, and Goyer, ‘Script: The Dark Knight’, p. 208−9. On the Patriot Act in the film see Ip, ‘The Dark Knight’s war on terrorism’, pp. 220−1. 85 Grant Morrison, Supergods: What Masked Vigilantes, Miraculous Mutants, and a Sun God from Smallville Can Teach Us About Being Human (New York: Spiegel & Grau, 2012), p. 409. 86 Nolan, Nolan, and Goyer, ‘Script: The Dark Knight’, p. 230.

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

Norse The Dark gods, Knight US and comics Balder’s and the descent Second to World Hel War

235

87 Nolan, Nolan, and Goyer, ‘Script: The Dark Knight’, p. 229. 88 I would like to thank Peter Adams (University of Regina Bookstore), the Icelandic Collection of Elizabeth Dafoe Library (University of Manitoba), and Murray Library (University of Saskatchewan), as well as my colleague Christopher Crocker, for help obtaining research materials. Thanks are due to everyone involved with From Iceland to the Americas (especially its creators and conference organisers), to the University of Manitoba’s Icelandic Department and Icelandic Students’ Society (UMISS), and to Lögberg–Heimskringla, for encouraging this research.

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

13 Old Norse in the New World: the mythology of emigration in Neil Gaiman’s American Gods Heather O’Donoghue

In American Gods, Neil Gaiman characterises ‘America’ – to use Gaiman’s own anachronistic and in many ways problematic term – as a country of immigrants from its very earliest times to the present day. Gaiman’s starting point is what might be called the emigration of mythology – how gods and the heroes of folklore are exported to the New World along with each wave of emigration.1 One of his inspirations was the work of academic folklorist Richard Dorson, who is quoted in the novel’s epigraph pondering the fates of these supernatural emigrants: ‘what happens to demonic beings when immigrants move from their homelands’.2 This sounds at first like naive speculation, as if these demonic beings had an objective reality, and hence an ongoing history. But the rest of the epigraph makes it clear that what intrigued Dorson (and Gaiman) is rather what happens to belief in them; they exist only as objects of thought. As Mr Wednesday, an avatar of the Old Norse god Odin, proclaims to his fellow gods and folk heroes in the novel, ‘We rode here in their minds, and we took root. We travelled with the settlers to the new lands across the ocean’ (117). But Wednesday’s formulation – ‘took root’ – is over optimistic, as he himself goes on to explain. As Dorson puts it in Gaiman’s epigraph, these mythical figures survive by being remembered by immigrant communities, but ‘only in relation to events remembered in the Old Country’. This consigns belief in them to a slow death, since they can have no continuing relevance in the New World of the immigrants. In American Gods, Mr Wednesday echoes this scholarly explanation: ‘Our true believers passed on, or stopped believing, and we were left, lost and scared and dispossessed, only what little smidgens of worship or belief we could find. And to get by as best we could’ (118). It is the process of this inexorable decline – and Mr Wednesday’s battle against it – which lies at the heart of American Gods. The fate of

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

Norse gods,ofUS Mythology emigration comics and in American the Second Gods World War

237

the American gods is the primary aspect of Gaiman’s mythology of emigration. Although these supernatural beings have no independent reality in real-world or scholarly discourse, in fiction they can be transformed into characters in human form – as indeed we see with Mr Wednesday. Giving them human form allows them not only to exist and act in the novel, and in Gaiman’s America, but also, within the story-world, to interact with representations of more conventional human characters.3 In other novels featuring mythological figures in human or quasi-human form, the attraction of such interactions for readers may be the surprising collision of the distant, mythic past with the contemporary world, as with, for example, Douglas Adams’s The Long Dark Tea-Time of the Soul, in which the god Odin first appears at an airport check-in desk.4 In Diana Wynne Jones’s children’s novel Eight Days of Luke, avatars of the Old Norse gods provide exciting new acquaintances for a bored and lonely child in twentieth-century England.5 In American Gods, the gods are represented as diminished quasi-human figures, in keeping with the faded and ever-fading belief in them. They are in almost comically reduced circumstances; they are shabby, down-at-heel low-lifes, struggling to survive, and often battling alcoholism and poverty. The action of American Gods initially involves Mr Wednesday, accompanied by Shadow, who we later learn is his son, travelling all around the Midwest of America drumming up support for a great battle against the new gods of the New World. This structure gives tremendous scope for a large cast of gods and folk heroes, especially given the central premise of America as a variously multicultural immigrant nation. It also allows for a good deal of satire on what contemporary America worships today. Mr Wednesday’s opponents, for instance, include the goddess Media (with its neat echo of the classical goddess Medea) and Technical Boy, the new young god of the digital age. American Gods resembles a novelistic version of a road movie, entertaining, fast-paced, and full of diverting encounters. A major part of the undoubted fun of American Gods is simply spotting which gods or heroes the figures in the novel represent, and then enjoying the witty contrast Gaiman sets up between their traditional, and often formidable, mythic identities and the grim appropriateness of their presently reduced circumstances. Thus, we meet a pair of small-town funeral directors, Ibis and Jacquel, with a sign above their door: ‘A Family Firm. Funeral Parlor. Since 1863’

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

238

Recasting the past

(153). Mr Ibis is a man with a ‘crane-like stoop’ and dark skin; Mr Jacquel has ‘dark brown eyes as quizzical and cold as a desert dog’s’ (171). They are immediately recognisable as avatars of the ancient Egyptian deities Thoth, with the head of an ibis, and Anubis, the jackal god, the guardian of the dead, and reputedly the inventor of embalming. The appropriateness of their present occupation as funeral directors is perfect. Similarly, the Slavic deity Czernobog (literally, ‘black god’), a sinister figure also associated with death, appears in American Gods as a terrifying ex-abattoir worker who relished his bloody and murderous job, and is now living on the edge of poverty in shabby rooms at the top of a Chicago brownstone. In Slavic tradition, Czernobog is identified as one side of a double deity, the evil counterpart of Bielobog (literally, ‘white god’). Gaiman plays on this duality by having Czernobog challenge Shadow to a lethal game of checkers. Czernobog will play black against Shadow’s white, and, evidently nostalgic for his day job, he states his terms: ‘If I win, I get to knock your brains out. With the sledgehammer. First you go down on your knees. Then I hit you a blow with it, so you don’t get up again’ (70). This brutal game also echoes the exchange of blows topos in the medieval English romance Sir Gawain and the Green Knight.6 However, the plot of American Gods centres on Mr Wednesday, aka the Norse god Odin, and his protégé Shadow.7 From the outset, it is clear to anyone with even the most basic knowledge of Old Norse mythology that Mr Wednesday is an avatar of Odin. Gaiman reproduces almost every known attribute and characteristic of the Norse god in his depiction of Wednesday. For example, the name ‘Wednesday’ itself, as one of the days of the week, is derived from the Old English Wo¯dnesdæg (‘Woden’s day’), after the AngloSaxon pagan deity Woden, widely believed to be the equivalent of the Old Norse Odin. Mr Wednesday is a confidence trickster, a grifter, reflecting Odin’s reputation as an oath-breaker and cheat.8 His partner is named in the novel as Low Key Lyesmith, again clearly an avatar of the malicious semi-divine trickster of Old Norse myth, Loki, whom, according to the thirteenth-century Icelandic mythographer Snorri Sturluson, ‘some call the slanderer of the gods and the source of deceits’.9 Further, Wednesday has a glass eye (although at first Shadow only notices that one eye is a slightly different colour from the other (20)) and Odin is said to have deposited one of his eyes in the well of Mimir in exchange for a wisdom-giving drink from it.10 Once Shadow recognises that Wednesday only has one eye, he asks, ‘How’d you lose your eye?’

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

Norse gods,ofUS Mythology emigration comics and in American the Second Gods World War

239

Wednesday replies, ‘Didn’t lose it … I still know exactly where it is’ (61). This looks like a simple play on the euphemistic use of the verb ‘to lose’; in fact, it is an oblique but specific reference to his willing pledge. And for one of his duplicitous exploits, he explains to Shadow that he ‘will be rejoicing in the unlikely name of Emerson Borson’ (208). This is not such a very unlikely name for anyone who knows the Old Norse sources, for according to Snorri Sturluson, Odin was the son of a figure called Bor, and he and his two brothers killed the old giant Ymir, Bor’s grandfather. Odin is thus literally Borson, though Bor is Ymir’s grandson, rather than Ymir’s son – Emerson.11 The well of Mimir, where Odin pledged his eye, was located beneath one of the roots of the Old Norse World Tree, Yggdrasill,12 and Mr Wednesday has a tie-pin in the shape of a tree (19). But Odin’s connection with the World Tree goes much deeper than this, for in Old Norse myth Odin was hanged – or hanged himself, in a mysterious act of self-sacrifice – on a windswept tree, usually identified as Yggdrasill, the World Tree, and thereby gained wisdom and occult knowledge, before returning from this temporary death.13 This particular myth explains a great many passing references in American Gods, such as Mad Sweeney’s casual abuse of Wednesday as ‘old tree-hanger’ (36). But it is also the source of one of the major climaxes in the novel, as Shadow is destined to re-enact Odin’s self-sacrifice himself. In Old Norse, one of Odin’s many names is Vegtamr – l­iterally, ‘road-practised’, a reference to his characteristic wanderings, and obviously perfectly fitting his identity in this road movie of a novel. Overall, Mr Wednesday is a deeply unattractive, if charismatic, figure, a womaniser with a disturbing predilection for much younger women and a deceitful eloquence befitting an avatar of Odin, the god of poetry. Gaiman’s overall picture fits very well the representation of Odin as it survives in Old Norse mythological literature. When Shadow questions him about his success with women, Wednesday responds, ‘the secret is charm. Pure and simple.’ Shadow remarks wryly that ‘either you got it or you ain’t’, but Mr Wednesday begs to differ: ‘Charms can be learnt’ (63). Later on in the novel, we are shown much more clearly what he means by this. Shadow is hoping that his dead wife Laura can be brought back to life, and Mr Wednesday begins to recite a list of magic spells. After the fifth charm, we are told, ‘Wednesday spoke as if he were reciting the words of a religious ritual, or something dark and painful’ (245), which indeed he is, for he is reciting in

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

240

Recasting the past

translation verses from ‘Sayings of the High One’ (‘Hávamál’), the Eddic poem in which Odin boasts of his knowledge of powerful charms, having described in vivid and shocking detail his selfsacrifice on the tree.14 The full list of eighteen charms recited in both ‘Sayings of the High One’ and American Gods includes several which explain his success with women – for example, the sixteenth: ‘if I need love I can turn the mind and heart of every woman’ (246). Mr Wednesday, like Odin, doesn’t explain the meaning of the final charm, ‘the greatest of all … the most powerful secret there can ever be’ (246); perhaps in the context of American Gods the spell is not concerned with sleazy seduction, but with bringing the dead back to life. To understand all this fully, and to appreciate all the incidental references, requires a very detailed knowledge of Old Norse mythology, and of course Gaiman himself is something of an expert, having more recently published a well-reviewed retelling of Norse myth.15 But one might wonder how many references escape even those who are very familiar with the subject. And on occasion Gaiman apparently deliberately distorts his sources to achieve maximum contrast between the epic world of mythology and the degraded society of twentieth-century America. For example, in a telephone conversation towards the end of the novel, Mr Wednesday becomes maudlin about the death of his fellow god Thor. He tells Shadow: ‘I just keep thinking about Thor … Big guy, like you. Good hearted. Not bright, but he’d give you the goddamned shirt off his back if you asked him. And he killed himself. He put a gun in his mouth and blew his head off in Philadelphia in 1932. What kind of a way is that for a god to die?’ (327). This is an unusually transparent reference to one of the gods. There is no word-play on Thor’s name, and Wednesday’s brief characterisation of him fits what we know from Old Norse myth. But in those sources the god Thor died fighting the formidable World Serpent at Ragnarok, the Old Norse apocalypse, an encounter so prodigious that both combatants were killed.16 In fact, the suicide rate in the United States peaked in 1932, after the Great Depression,17 and there may also be a reference to a 1932 comedy film, When Do You Commit Suicide?18 This is a clear transposition of the death of Thor from a grand epic register to a mundane and even grimly comic one. It can sometimes seem as if the whole narrative of American Gods is built on a series of in-jokes and cryptic references, not all of them confined to Old Norse myth.

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

Norse gods,ofUS Mythology emigration comics and in American the Second Gods World War

241

This brings up the question of whether it really matters if readers do not understand all these allusions. In fact, Gaiman has Mr Wednesday explicitly identify himself as Odin. Shadow asks ‘Who are you? … What are you?’ Mr Wednesday responds with a list of Odinic pseudonyms, all taken from Old Norse mythic sources: ‘I am called Glad-of-War, Grim, Raider, and Third. I am Oneeyed, I am called Highest, and True-Guesser. I am Grimnir, and I am the Hooded One. I am All-Father … My ravens are Huginn and Muninn; my wolves Freki and Geri’. Finally, he uses the name Odin, and repeats it three times (114). Similarly, Low Key Lyesmith confirms his identity to Shadow: ‘“Low Key Lyesmith”, said Shadow … “Loki,” he said. “Loki Lie-Smith”. “You’re slow”, said Loki, “but you get there in the end”’ (377–8). These explicit identifications mean that American Gods does not depend on prior detailed knowledge of Old Norse myth to be understood on a broad level, but the novel builds up layers of meaning which only the most specialist readers will be able to decode fully. One of the most striking features of American Gods is the way Gaiman has interpolated passages of historical narrative of varying lengths into the main narrative. Each passage recreates the experience of a different wave of emigrants, and focuses on the gods or folk heroes who accompanied them in their minds. These narratives are all subtitled ‘Coming to America’ except one about contemporary immigration from the Middle East, which has the title ‘Somewhere in America’ (154–63); the earliest narrative is set in prehistoric times, and tracks the drift of circumpolar nomadic tribespeople and their totemic god Nunyunnini (351–6). These narratives are extra-diegetical – that is, they stand outside the storyworld of Shadow and Mr Wednesday. Their function appears to be to provide a historical context for the present multicultural condition of America, and to substantiate the premise of the emigration of gods along with their believers. As we might expect, the first of these passages in the novel concerns the coming of Scandinavian people in the early Middle Ages. Like all the other passages, ‘Coming to America 813 A.D.’ (58–60) is a dramatic and imaginative account of the hardships of emigrants. Gaiman’s prose is scattered with literary allusions. For example, we are told, ‘A bad journey they had of it’ (58), echoing the first line of T. S. Eliot’s celebrated poem ‘The Journey of the Magi’: ‘A cold coming we had of it’. Such allusions foreground the elaborate style and self-consciously literary register of the passage. But there are numerous literary allusions elsewhere in the novel,

242

Recasting the past

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

too. We are told that Shadow got his (nick)name because, when he was a child, he followed adults around like a shadow (261–2). But there is a striking analogue in the fifth stanza of Seamus Heaney’s acclaimed poem ‘Follower’: I wanted to grow up and plough, To close one eye, stiffen my arm. All I ever did was follow In his broad shadow round the farm.19

As in American Gods, the key relationship here is between father and son, the son shadowing his one-eyed father. In ‘Coming to America 813 A.D.’, the Norse travellers fear that they will be deserted by their gods, but their leader reassures them: if the all-father – Odin – made the world, then he surely made this country too, and they should continue to worship him. Their bard sings at night of Odin’s sacrifice on the tree, and even sings the eighteen charms from ‘The Sayings of the High One’, which Mr Wednesday chants in the main narrative. The next day, they capture a Native American, and they sacrifice him to their god Odin by hanging him on a windswept tree. The arrival of two ravens the following day to peck at the corpse is seen as a sign that their sacrifice has been accepted. But in the depths of that winter, a large raiding party of native people ambush the Norse, and they are all killed. In outline, this passage is a dramatised version of what we learn in the Old Norse Vinland sagas about the first Scandinavians to come to North America.20 They, too, encountered hostile native people – the sagas call them skrælingjar, ‘scraelings’ in Gaiman’s retelling.21 And no doubt the hardships of their journeys and first settlements were much as Gaiman describes. But there are two startling differences between Gaiman’s narrative and the story told in the sagas. Firstly, there is no mention in the Vinland sagas of Odinic sacrifice, a crucial point to which I will return. Secondly, as Gaiman concludes, the year ascribed to this voyage, AD 813, ‘was more than a hundred years before Leif the Fortunate, son of Eirik the Red, rediscovered that land, which he would call Vineland’ (60). Gaiman has invented a powerful but totally fictional precursor to the Vinland voyages documented in the sagas. The most obvious entailment of creating a prelude to the Vinland voyages is made clear at the very end of Gaiman’s new narrative: when Leif Eiriksson arrived in the New World, ‘[h]is gods were already waiting for him … They were there. They were

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

Norse gods,ofUS Mythology emigration comics and in American the Second Gods World War

243

waiting’ (60). This is an odd version of an intriguing topos found a number of times in Old Norse literature, in which emigrants find that their divinities have preceded them to Iceland itself. In The Saga of the People of Vatnsdal (Vatnsdæla saga), for example, the Norwegian Ingimund decides to emigrate to Iceland. Lappish witches have already predicted his settlement there, and told him that an amulet of the goddess Freyja, which was a gift to him from the king of Norway, has been magically transported to Iceland and that the place where it is found will indicate the best location for his new settlement. His god(dess) is indeed found to be waiting for him in his new home.22 There is even what seems to be a bold Christian variation on the theme in the short historical text known as Book of Icelanders (Íslendingabók).23 Here, Iceland is said to have been ‘pre-settled’ by Irish Christian monks, who left behind them Christian objects – books, bells, and croziers – which the Norse settlers found when they arrived. These remnants constitute a Christian sacralising of Iceland; the Christian gods were there – inherent in the material symbols of their worship – waiting for the Norse long before the conversion to Christianity in the year AD 1000. It now remains to examine the other novel, or inauthentic, element of Gaiman’s pre-Vinland voyage: the sacrifice to Odin. This element reaches into the heart of not only Old Norse myth, but also American Gods itself. As we have seen, the ostensible plot of American Gods is an attempt by Mr Wednesday to gather support from the old gods and folk heroes to fight back against America’s new gods and the new threat they pose to the old order. It is this peripatetic narrative that allows Gaiman the scope to crowd the novel with so very many supernatural figures and encounters with them. The possibility of a cataclysmic war between old and new gods taps into a number of historical and mythic paradigms, such as the great gangland feuds in twentieth-century America, or even the primeval Old Norse mythic war between the two sets of gods, the Æsir and the Vanir.24 But this apparent threat is in fact a misdirection, engineered by Mr Wednesday and Low Key Lyesmith. It is a two-man con – a confidence trick in which partners pretend to be strangers and work together to defraud their victim or ‘mark’. Mr Wednesday himself gives us a classic example of the con in his story about how two men fool a hotel manager into paying a large sum of money for an old violin, a well-known trick known as the ‘fiddle game’.25 Wednesday tells the story very elegantly, but then implicates himself as having perpetrated the same confidence trick numerous

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

244

Recasting the past

times: recounting how the con men in his story paid only a hundred dollars for the violin they sold for nine thousand, he boasts that he himself ‘made it a point of honour never to pay more than five dollars for any of them’ (203).26 In American Gods, Wednesday and his sidekick Low Key play a version of the fiddle game, working together to persuade the old gods that the new gods are massing for a major confrontation. But there is no threat. The new gods are as vulnerable as their predecessors for, as we are told at the end of the novel by a figure who seems to be an original Icelandic Odin, not a mere emanation of the god as Mr Wednesday has turned out to be, America is ‘a good place for men, but a bad place for gods’ (500). To understand what is actually going on, we need to return to the figure of Shadow, and the question of sacrifice. Shadow himself is based on Odin’s son in Norse myth, the god Balder. Interestingly, Balder is associated with whiteness and brightness, while in American Gods it seems that Shadow is biracial. In the screen version of the novel, produced as a television series, Shadow is black, and indeed the racial politics of the novel are made much more prominent and edgy.27 Otherwise, the links between Shadow and Balder are several and obvious. He is Mr Wednesday’s son and, like Balder, he has ominous dreams: at the very beginning of the novel, for instance, ‘he could feel disaster hovering’ (6). In Norse myth, Balder meets an untimely death when he is killed by an arrow made of a mistletoe stem and shot by his own brother Hod.28 Hod did not mean to kill his brother, but he was blind, and Loki maliciously armed him with the arrow and directed his aim. Loki, as his alter ego Mr World, the shadowy (!) leader of the new gods, threatens to ‘sharpen a stick of mistletoe and go down to the ash tree, and ram it through [Shadow’s] eye’ (448). And in a novella by Gaiman which follows the later adventures of Shadow in Scotland, he is explicitly identified as Balder.29 The source for most of what we know about the death of Balder comes from Snorri, who tells the story of Loki’s malice, the blind brother, and the improbably lethal mistletoe. But Snorri was writing as a thirteenth-century Icelandic Christian, over two centuries after the conversion of Iceland, and some elements in his story look more like borrowings from biblical material than what we know from elsewhere in Old Norse myth.30 In fact, it may be that there is a much deeper parallel with Christian tradition, which Snorri was unwilling to include in his version of the story: that Odin, the All-Father, arranged the sacrifice of his own son in the expectation that he could be resurrected – an expectation

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

Norse gods,ofUS Mythology emigration comics and in American the Second Gods World War

245

which turned out to be thwarted.31 This speculation explains one of the great unanswered questions in Old Norse myth: ‘what did Odin himself say into his son’s ear before he ascended the funeral pyre?’32 The question is asked by Odin himself, in disguise, of the giant Vafthrudnir, and forms the climax to a wisdom contest between the two. The stakes are high: the loser will lose his life. And Vafthrudnir realises at once that Odin is his opponent, and must win, because no one else can know the answer to that question. Incidentally, the refrain in the poem, spoken by Odin, recalls for us Gaiman’s depiction of Mr Wednesday’s endless journeying: ‘Much I have travelled, much I have tested.’33 So when, as it seems, Mr Wednesday is killed in an act of provocation by the new gods, and Shadow agrees to re-enact his sacrifice on a tree, we apparently have a re-run of the death of Balder. It is gradually emerging that human sacrifice, and not just belief, or even worship, is what sustains the gods. Although we may associate sacrifice with ancient religions, Gaiman plays with the extended meaning of the word to associate it with the new gods as well. Thus, for instance, towards the end of the novel, we are introduced to the car gods: ‘with blood on their black gloves and on their chrome teeth: recipients of human sacrifice on a scale undreamed of since the Aztecs’ (457). In the screen version of American Gods, a figure called Vulcan is introduced; he is an industrial divinity to whom ghastly industrial accidents are represented as a sacrifice; people are also the victims of his production, guns. Again in the television series, the sacrifices to the goddess Media are said to be people’s time and reputations. In American Gods, by far the darkest episode of human sacrifice takes place in the cosy, idealised town of Lakeside – praised by the driver of the Greyhound bus on which Shadow travels as ‘a good town … Prettiest town I’ve ever seen’ (212). The town lives up to Shadow’s expectations when he is kindly given a lift by an old man who introduces himself as Richie Hinzelmann. But in Germanic folklore Hinzelmann is a goblin, reputed to be helpful to humans if they respect him and reward him for his help, but liable to become malicious if not propitiated. In American Gods, Hinzelmann appears to be a good citizen of a good town, but is surviving as a supernatural being by human sacrifice – in this case, the murder of local children. One of the charming traditions of Lakeside is that during the winter an old car is driven on to the centre of the frozen lake, and the inhabitants bet on what time on which spring day the ice will melt and the old car will sink into the

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

246

Recasting the past

lake. Tickets specifying five-minute spells are five dollars, and the prize is one thousand dollars. And each year there is a murdered child in the boot of the car. Much of the action of American Gods takes place in the form of dreams or extended visions, mostly Shadow’s. This makes it hard for readers to distinguish between what is ‘really’ ­happening – at least in the story-world – and what are Shadow’s visionary experiences. Gaiman constantly blurs these and other narrative boundaries, such as the distinctions between what is experienced and what is remembered, and what is remembered and what is imagined. Even the line between human and divine status is blurred.34 We can now return to the description of the Odinic sacrifice in the interpolated historical narrative ‘Coming to America 813 A.D.’. As I have noted, there is no mention of such sacrifice in the actual sagas which recount the experiences of the Norse in North America. As I have explained, this and other interpolated narrative segments are extra-diegetical – that is, they are presented as material outside the main story-world. For this reason, their substance, related directly to the reader, has an existence lifted clear of the often confusing sequences of dreams and visions within the primary narrative of Shadow and Mr Wednesday. Odinic sacrifice is presented as clearly separate from the action of the novel. Back in the story-world, Gaiman objectifies Odinic sacrifice in yet another way. Shadow gives a lift to a Cherokee woman called Sam Black Crow. As they drive, she tells him her ‘favourite god story, from Comparative Religion 101’. This is also a story of Odinic sacrifice, this time based on an account in the Old Norse Gautrek’s Saga (Gautreks saga).35 Sam Black Crow’s verdict on the story sheds light on the whole disturbing issue of human sacrifice: ‘White people have some fucked-up gods, Mister Shadow’ (146). Here, Gaiman is presenting Odinic sacrifice as a cultural fact, a component in an introductory university ‘World Religion’ course for freshmen. Again, Odinic sacrifice is lifted out of the phantasmagorical world of Shadow and linked to a mundane real world, this time contemporary rather than historical. In the television series, the sequence equivalent to the ‘Coming to America 813 A.D.’ narrative segment shows the Norse emigrants not sacrificing a skræling, but engineering a battle, and dedicating the dead to Odin in order to secure a favourable wind. It is very significant that the series actually opens with this emigration episode, unlike the novel, because it confirms a second piece of narrative misdirection. The sacrifice which Mr Wednesday and Loki have

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

Norse gods,ofUS Mythology emigration comics and in American the Second Gods World War

247

been engineering is not simply that of Odin’s son, Balder/Shadow. For Odin is the god of battle as well as the god of poetry, and the dead in battle are Odin’s prize.36 The prospect of a great battle between the old gods and the new has been fabricated by the agents provocateurs Mr Wednesday and Loki as a means of bolstering Mr Wednesday’s power through sacrificial slaughter on a major scale. Even Mr Wednesday’s death is a faked provocation. But Shadow manages to expose their plan and avert the great confrontation. It is Mr Wednesday who posthumously explains how Shadow himself is the element of distraction in the misdirection, in the story-world as much as for us as readers: ‘You took everybody’s attention, so they never looked at the hand with the coin in it. It’s called misdirection’ (452). This explanation clarifies one final puzzle in American Gods: why Shadow is insistently associated with sleightof-hand coin tricks, which he practises incessantly, something with no counterpart whatever in the Old Norse sources. Shadow’s coin tricks are themselves based on misdirection; he is both the instrument, performer, and, ironically, the source of misdirection. This, then, is Gaiman’s mythology of emigration. Those who emigrate and settle in America bring their gods and folk heroes with them, as objects of belief. In the novel, these creatures – themselves emigrants to a new world – are accorded a sort of quasi-human status, and interact with the human world. But just as belief in the old gods fades as their relevance to the new world diminishes, Gaiman’s quasi-human gods are shown in shabbily reduced social circumstances, fighting hard to survive and to sustain their old powers. This brings into play the dark heart of religious worship: the horror of human sacrifice. If America is ‘a bad place for gods’, then it would seem that this is no bad thing. Interspersed with this grim take on religion, we have Gaiman’s witty and often funny links between the mythological gods and their degraded avatars. Sometimes the appeal of these links leads Gaiman to play fast and loose with actual history. I have already described the apparently irresistible parallels between the funeral directors Ibis and Jacquel, and their Egyptian originals Thoth and Anubis. But there is a problem here: the Egyptian gods were worshipped millennia before America was settled, and in any case, which emigrants could have brought them? Here Gaiman plays with place names. A local woman explains to Shadow why there are places called Cairo and Thebes in Illinois: ‘They call it Little Egypt because back, oh, mebbe a hundred, hundred and fifty years, there was a famine all over. Crops failed’ (136). But

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

248

Recasting the past

Mr Ibis has a different explanation: ‘this region takes its names from us … It was a trading post back in the old days’ (167). Shadow is incredulous: ‘Are you trying to tell me that ancient Egyptians came here to trade five thousand years ago?’ But Mr Ibis maintains his claim of an ancient Egyptian settlement, and echoes Gaiman’s mythology of emigration: these immigrants – like all the others – ‘stayed here long enough to believe in us, to sacrifice to us’ (167). Reviewing the television series, the columnist James Delingpole criticised what he saw as the mere fun of American Gods: This isn’t really drama as most of us would understand it: it’s just a succession of Top Trumps superheroes, each with their own set of outrageous skills, manipulated into a series of exquisitely realised vignettes in which actors like Ian McShane (as Mr Wednesday) mug their socks off to no particularly worthwhile end because you haven’t a clue what’s going on and it doesn’t matter anyway because, being supernatural, they can obey whatever rules the author makes up for them as he goes along. I have the same problem with the whole of magic realism: if anything can happen, who bloody cares?37

But Gaiman’s fantasy fiction has serious real-world relevance. For example, we might be prompted to ask ourselves whether major wars are inevitable, or the result of deliberate and cynical provocation, like Mr Wednesday’s war of the old and new gods. Further, Gaiman uses the historical sweep of the novel, with its succeeding waves of emigration, to imply that emigration is an ongoing process, that immigrants have always been part of an American identity and always will be. In fact, in the screen version, released in 2017, there are some updates, which we may assume were sanctioned by Gaiman himself since he is named on the production team.38 I have already mentioned the introduction of the new god Vulcan, based on the Roman god of fire and metalworking, and representing heavy industry and especially gun manufacture in Gaiman’s America. It is moreover impossible to ignore the implied possibility that Vulcan’s own survival is precarious too, in the light of the real-world contemporary decline in blue-collar manufacturing. The television series also has an additional historical segment, this time recreating the experience of Mexican migrants, fired on by the US authorities but aided by their own deity, Jesus. As Mr Ibis declares, ‘This country has been Grand Central Station for ten thousand years or more’ (167). Even Mr Wednesday, for all his deceit and untrustworthiness, recognises this fundamental principle: ‘Nobody’s American … Not originally. That’s my point’ (91).

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

Norse gods,ofUS Mythology emigration comics and in American the Second Gods World War

249

Perhaps the strongest messages delivered by American Gods are that no single group of immigrants is better than another, and that none is detrimental to the state of the nation. The emigrants are invariably presented sympathetically in their struggles, hardships, and aspirations to a better life. The narrative perspective is very far from that of an embattled American nation facing an invasion of immigrants. And if indeed nobody is American ‘originally’, then no one group may claim priority or superiority. This is especially important with regard to the emigration from northern Europe, and Scandinavia in particular. Claims to Scandinavian heritage have sometimes been used to bolster racial supremacy claims, as other essays in this volume explain. But although Gaiman centres his ­narrative on the gods of the first Scandinavian immigrants, there is no sense in the novel that the immigrants who brought them have any privileged claim to American identity. In its creation of a mythology of emigration, Gaiman’s highly literary fantasy novel raises some of the most pressing issues in the contemporary world.

Notes  1 I use the words emigration and emigrant when the context is of leaving one’s homeland to move to another place; often, the journey is presented from the perspective of those doing the travelling. By contrast, I use immigration and immigrant when the context is of settlement in the new homeland; here, the incomers are often seen from the perspective of those already living there. In what follows, I have tried to apply this distinction consistently, but it is not an absolute one.  2 See Neil Gaiman, ‘American Gods: An astonishing incomplete ­bibliography’, Neil Gaiman, www.neilgaiman.com/works/Books/ American+Gods/in/183/, last accessed 21 February 2019. ‘Dorson’s work is where the book’s opening quote comes from, and was one of the places that American Gods as a whole came from.’ The quotation from Dorson is referenced in American Gods as: Richard Dorson, ‘A theory for American Folklore’, American Folklore and the Historian (University of Chicago Press, 1971), and is quoted facing p. 1. The textual history of American Gods is complex; this essay references the first edition: Neil Gaiman, American Gods (London: Headline Book Publishing, 2001). All page references in what follows are to this edition.  3 See Fulvio Ferrari, ‘Gods of dreams and suburbia: Old Norse deities in Neil Gaiman’s polymythological universe’, in Katja Schulz (ed.), Eddische Götter und Helden: Milieus und Medien ihre Rezeption (Heidelberg: Universitätsverlag Winter, 2011), pp. 129−41 (132).

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

250

Recasting the past

 4 Douglas Adams, The Long Dark Tea-Time of the Soul (London: Heinemann, 1988).  5 Diana Wynne Jones, Eight Days of Luke (London: Macmillan. 1975).  6 Sir Gawain and the Green Knight, ed. J. R. R. Tolkien and E. V. Gordon, rev. 2nd edn of Norman Davis (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1967).  7 For an analysis, by contrast, of Gaiman’s debt to classical literature, see Jenn Anya Prosser, ‘The American Odyssey’, in Tara Prescott (ed.), Neil Gaiman in the 21st Century: Essays on the Novels, Children’s Stories, Online Writings and Other Works (Jefferson: McFarland & Company, 2015), pp. 9−18.  8 See E. O. G. Turville-Petre, Myth and Religion of the North: The Religion of Ancient Scandinavia (London: Weidenfeld and Nicolson, 1964), pp. 35−74.  9 Snorri Sturluson, Edda: Prologue and Gylfaginning, ed. Anthony Faulkes (Oxford: Clarendon Press. 1982), p. 26. Unless otherwise stated, all translations are my own. Old Norse original: ‘sumir kalla rógbera Ásanna ok frumkveða flærðanna.’ 10 Turville-Petre, Myth and Religion, p. 63. 11 Sturluson, Edda: Prologue and Gylfaginning, p. 11. 12 Turville-Petre, Myth and Religion, pp. 149−50. 13 Turville-Petre, Myth and Religion, pp. 42−3. 14 See ‘Hávamál’, in Eddukvæði, ed. Jónas Kristjánsson and Vésteinn Ólason, 2 vols (Reykjavík: Hið íslenzka fornritafélag, 2014), vol. 1, pp. 322−55 (especially pp. 350−55, stanzas 138−63). 15 Neil Gaiman, Norse Mythology (London: Bloomsbury, 2017). 16 Turville-Petre, Myth and Religion, pp. 75−6. 17 Bennett Lowenthal, ‘The jumpers of ’29’, Washington Post (25 October 1987), www.washingtonpost.com/archive/opinions/1987/10/25/thejumpers-of-29/17defff9-f725–43b7, last accessed 1 December 2018. 18 When Do You Commit Suicide?, dir. Manuel Romero (USA: Paramount Pictures, 1932). 19 Seamus Heaney, ‘Follower’, in Death of a Naturalist (London: Faber and Faber, 1966), p. 14. 20 For scholarly editions of the Vinland sagas see Eyrbyggja saga, Grænlendinga so˛gur, ed. Einar Ólafur Sveinsson and Matthías Þórðarson, Íslenzk fornrit IV (Reykjavík: Hið íslenzka fornritafélag, 1935), pp. 195−237, 244−69. 21 See for example Grænlendinga saga, in Eyrbyggja saga, Grænlendinga so˛gur, pp. 257−60. 22 Vatnsdæla saga, ed. Einar Ól. Sveinsson, Íslenzk fornrit VIII (Reykjavík: Hið íslenzka fornritafélag, 1939), pp. 27−43. 23 Íslendingabók, in Íslendingabók, Landnámabók, ed. Jakob Benediktsson, 2 vols, Íslenzk fornrit I (Reykjavík: Hið íslenzka fornritafélag, 1968), vol. 1, pp. 1−28. 24 Turville-Petre, Myth and Religion, pp. 156−8.

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

Norse gods,ofUS Mythology emigration comics and in American the Second Gods World War

251

25 ‘The fiddle game’, Fandom, https://leverage.fandom.com/wiki/The_ Fiddle_Game, last accessed 1 December 2018. 26 For a fuller examination of Gaiman’s use of storytelling within his primary narrative, see Chris Dowd, ‘An autopsy of storytelling: metafiction and Neil Gaiman’, in Darrell Schweitzer (ed.), The Neil Gaiman Reader (Rockville: Wildside Press, 2007), pp. 103−14. 27 American Gods, TV Series, prod. FremantleMedia North America (USA: Lionsgate Television, 2017−present). 28 Sturluson, Edda: Prologue and Gylfaginning, pp. 45−6. 29 Neil Gaiman, ‘The monarch of the glen: an American Gods novella’, in Fragile Things (London: Headline Review, 2007), pp. 369−433. 30 Heather O’Donoghue, ‘What has Baldr to do with Lamech?’ Medium Ævum, LXXII (2003), 82−107. 31 The Poetic Edda, ed. and trans. Carolyne Larrington, rev. edn (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2014), p. 288, fn. 54. 32 ‘Vafþrúðnismál’, in Eddukvæði, ed. Jónas Kristjánsson and Vésteinn Ólason, 2 vols (Reykjavík: Hið íslenzka fornritafélag, 2014), vol. 1, pp. 356–66 (365, stanza 54). Original Old Norse: ‘hvat mælti Óðinn, / áðr á bál stigi, / sjálfr í eyra syni?’ 33 ‘Vafþrúðnismál’, in Eddukvæði, p. 356 (stanza 3 et passim). Original Old Norse: ‘Fjölð ek fór / fjölð ek freistaði’. 34 See Michael Key, ‘The anxiety of disappearance’, in Tara Prescott (ed.), Neil Gaiman in the 21st Century: Essays on the Novels, Children’s Stories, Online Writings and Other Works (Jefferson: McFarland & Company, 2015), pp. 19−28. 35 Turville-Petre, Myth and Religion, pp. 47−8. 36 Turville-Petre, Myth and Religion, pp. 50−5. 37 James Delingpole, ‘This isn’t drama as most of us understand it: American Gods reviewed’, The Spectator (13 May 2017), www. spectator.co.uk/2017/05/this-isnt-drama-as-most-of-us-understandit​-american-gods-reviewed/, last accessed 1 December 2018. For a similar, but less strongly worded assessment, see Baba Singh, ‘Catharsis and the American God: Neil Gaiman’, in Darrell Schweitzer (ed.), The Neil Gaiman Reader (Rockville: Wildside Press, 2007), pp. 154−64. 38 American Gods, TV Series.

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

Bibliography

Printed sources ‘1440 map depicts the New World’, New York Times (11 October 1965), p. 1. Abrams, M. H., The Mirror and the Lamp, New York: Oxford University Press, 1953. Abrams, M. H., ‘Structure and style in the greater romantic lyric’, in F. W. Hilles and Harold Bloom (eds), From Sensibility to Romanticism, Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1965, pp. 527–60. Adam of Bremen, History of the Archbishops of Hamburg-Bremen, trans. Francis J. Tschan, New York: Columbia University Press, 2002. Adams, Douglas, The Long Dark Tea-Time of the Soul, London: Heinemann, 1988. Aho, Gary, ‘“Með Ísland á heilanum”: Íslandsbækur breskra ferðalanga 1772 til 1897’, trans. Jón Karl Helgason, Skírnir, 167 (1993), 205–58. Alter, Stephen, Darwinism and the Linguistic Image: Language, Race, and Natural Theology in the Nineteenth Century, Baltimore: Johns Hopkins University Press, 1999. Andelman, Bob, Will Eisner: A Spirited Life, Raleigh: TwoMorrows Publishing, 2015. Andersen, Arlow W., Rough Road to Glory: The Norwegian-American Press Speaks out on Public Affairs, 1875 to 1925, Philadelphia: Balch Institute, 1990. Andersen, Magnus, ‘Norway and the Vikings’, National Geographic, 5 (1894), 132−6. Anderson, Philip N., ‘Form and content in Lokasenna: a re-evaluation’, in Carolyne Larrington and Paul Acker (eds), The Poetic Edda: Essays on Old Norse Mythology, New York: Routledge, 2015, pp. 139–57. Anderson, Rasmus B., America Not Discovered by Columbus: A Historical Sketch of the Discovery of America by the Norsemen in the Tenth Century, Chicago: S. C. Griggs and Company, 1874. Anderson, Rasmus B., Life Story of Rasmus B. Anderson, written by himself with the assistance of Albert O. Barton, Madison: n.p., 1915.

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

Bibliography

253

Anderson, Rasmus B., North Ludlow Beamish, and Arthur Middleton Reeves, The Norse Discovery of America: A compilation in extenso of all the sagas, manuscripts and inscriptive memorials relating to the finding and settlement of the New World in the eleventh century. With presentations of freshly discovered proofs, in the form of church records supplied by the Vatican of Rome, never before published, translations and deductions, New York: Norrœna Society, 1906. Andersson, Axel, A Hero for the Atomic Age: Thor Heyerdahl and the ‘Kon-Tiki’ Expedition, Oxford: Lang, 2010. Andersson, Axel and Scott Magelsen, ‘Performing a Viking history of America: the 1893 voyage and display of a Viking longship at the Columbus Quadricentennial’, Theatre Journal, 69 (2017), 175−95. Annandale, Nelson, The Faroes and Iceland, Oxford: Clarendon, 1905. Appelbaum, Stanley, The Chicago World’s Fair of 1893: A Photographic Record, New York: Dover Publications, 1980. Bacon, Edwin M., Historic Pilgrimages in New England, New York: Silver, Burdett & Company, 1898. Bancroft, Hubert, The Book of the Fair, Chicago: Bancroft Company, 1893. Baring-Gould, Sabine, Iceland: Its Scenes and Sagas, London: Smith & Elder, 1863. Barnes, Geraldine, Viking America: The First Millennium, Cambridge: D. S. Brewer, 2001. Barrow, John, A Visit to Iceland by Way of Tronyem, in the ‘Flower of Yarrow’ Yacht, in the Summer of 1834, London: J. Murray, 1835. Barton, Benjamin Smith,  Observations on some Parts of Natural History. To which is Prefixed an Account of several Remarkable Vestiges of an Ancient Date, which have been Discovered in Different Parts of North America: Part I, London: Printed for the author, sold by C. Dilly, 1787. Bassil-Morozow, Helena, ‘Loki then and now: the trickster against civilization’, International Journal of Jungian Studies, 9:2 (2017), 84−96. Basso, Keith, Wisdom Sits in Places: Landscape and Language among the Western Apache, Albuquerque: University of New Mexico Press, 1996. Batchelor, Bob, Stan Lee: The Man Behind Marvel, Lanham, Boulder, New York, London: Rowman & Littlefield, 2017. Beach, Samuel B., Escalala: An American Tale, Utica: W. Williams, 1824. Beals, Carleton, Colonial Rhode Island, Camden: Thomas Nelson, Inc., 1970. Beamish, North Ludlow, The Discovery of North America by the Northmen, in the Tenth Century, with Notices of the Early Settlements of the Irish in the Western Hemisphere, London: T. and W. Boone, 1841. Bendixen, Alfred, ‘American travel books about Europe before the Civil War’, in Alfred Bendixen and Judith Hamera (eds), The Cambridge Companion to American Travel Writing, Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2009, pp. 103–26.

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

254

Bibliography

Bendixen, Alfred and Judith Hamera, ‘Introduction: new worlds and old lands – the travel book and the construction of American identity’, in Alfred Bendixen and Judith Hamera (eds), The Cambridge Companion to American Travel Writing, Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2009, pp. 1–10. Bjørnbo, Axel Anton and Carl S. Petersen, Fyenboen Claudius Claussøn Swart (Claudius Clavus), Norden ældste Kartograf: En Monografi, Copenhagen: Bianco Lunos, 1904. Björnsdóttir, Inga Dóra, ‘Leifr Eiriksson versus Christopher Columbus: the use of Leifr Eiríksson in American political and cultural discourse’, in Andrew Wawn and Þórunn Sigurðardóttir (eds), Approaches to Vínland: A Conference on the Written and Archaeological Sources for the Norse Settlements in the North-Atlantic Region and Exploration of America, Reykjavík: Sigurður Nordal Institute, 2001, pp. 220–6. Blegen, Theodore C., Norwegian Migration to America, 1825−1860, Northfield: Norwegian-American Historical Association, 1931. Bloom, Clive and Greg S. McCue, Dark Knights: The New Comics in Context, London: Pluto Press, 1993. Bojs, Karin, My European Family: The First 54,000 Years, London: Bloomsbury, 2017. Bosley, Edward R., ‘Two sides of the river: Morris & American arts and crafts’, in Diane Waggoner (ed.), The Beauty of Life: William Morris & The Art of Design, London: Thames & Hudson, 2003, pp. 134–67. Brady, Emily, ‘The sublime, ugliness and “terrible beauty” in Icelandic landscapes’, in Karl Benediktsson and Katrín Anna Lund (eds), Conversations with Landscapes, Farnham: Ashgate, 2010, pp. 125–36. Bragadóttir, Kristín, Willard Fiske: Vinur Íslands og velgjörðarmaður, Reykjavík: Háskólaútgáfan, 2008. Bragason, Úlfar, ‘Images of North America in writings by three Icelandic authors: Matthías Jochumsson, Jón Ólafsson, and Einar H. Kvaran’, in Gunilla Florby, Mark Shackleton, and Katri Suhonen, (eds), Canada: Images of a Post/National Society, Canadian Studies 19, Brussels: Peter Lang, 2009, pp. 235–44. Bragason, Úlfar, ‘Rasmus B. Anderson and Vinland: mythbreaking and mythmaking’, in Merrill Kaplan and Timothy R. Tangherlini (eds), News from Other Worlds: Studies in Nordic Folklore, Mythology and Culture, in Honor of John F. Lindow, Berkeley: North Pinehurst Press, 2012, pp. 134–53. Breyer, John and William Butcher, ‘Nothing new under the sun: the geology of Jules Verne’s Journey to the Centre of the Earth’, Earth Sciences History, 22 (2003), 36–54. Brie, Steve, ‘Spandex parables: justice, criminality and the ethics of vigilantism in Frank Miller’s Batman: The Dark Knight Returns and Alan Moore’s Batman: The Killing Joke’, in William T. Rossiter and Steve

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

Bibliography

255

Brie (eds), Literature and Ethics: From the Green Knight to the Dark Knight, Newcastle: Cambridge Scholars, 2010, pp. 203–15. Brody, David S., Cabal of the Westford Knight: Templars at the Newport Tower, Groton: Martin and Lawrence Press, 2009. [Brooks, Charles Timothy], The Controversy Touching on the Old Stone Mill in the Town of Newport, Rhode Island, Newport: Charles E. Hammet, 1851. Browne, John Ross, ‘A Californian in Iceland’, Harper’s New Monthly Magazine, 152–4 (1863), 145–62, 289–311, 448–67. Browne, John Ross, The Land of Thor, New York: Harper & Brothers, 1867. Burkhalter, Harris, ‘Bothering the brains of the learned: NorwegianAmerican ethnic identity and perceptions of the Kensington Runestone in American popular culture’, in Terje Mikael Hasle Joranger and Harry T. Cleven (eds), Norwegian-American Essays 2014: Migrant Journeys: The Norwegian-American Experience in a Multicultural Context, Northfield: Norwegian-American Historical Association, 2014, pp. 145–72. Bursten, Martin A. and Jack Kirby, ‘Mercury in the 20th century’, Red Raven Comics #1 (August 1940). Burton, Richard, Ultima Thule, or, A Summer in Iceland, 2 vols, London: William P. Nimmo, 1875. Butcher, William, Jules Verne: The Definitive Biography, New York: Da Capo, 2006. Cameron, Christopher, To Plead Our Own Cause: African Americans in Massachusetts and the Making of the Antislavery Movement, Kent: Kent State University Press, 2014. Carlyle, Thomas, The Early Kings of Norway: Also an Essay on the Portraits of John Knox, London: Chapman & Hall, 1875. Carlyle, Thomas, On Heroes, Hero Worship, and the Heroic in History, New York, London and Bombay: Longmans, Green, and Co., 1906 [1841]. Chang, David A., The World and All the Things Upon It: Native Hawaiian Geographies of Exploration, Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press, 2017. ‘Chicago authoress is dead’, Chicago Daily Tribune (9 October 1910), p. 7. Christy, T. Craig, ‘Geology and the science of language: metaphors and models’, in Bernd Nauman, Frans Plank, and Gottfried Hoffbauer (eds), Language and Earth: Elective Affinities between the Emerging Sciences of Linguistics and Geology, Amsterdam: John Benjamins, 1992, pp. 79–89. Cocksworth, Ashley, ‘The Dark Knight and the evilness of evil’, Expository Times, 120:11 (2009), 541–3. Coles, John, Summer Travelling in Iceland: Being the Narrative of Two Journeys Across the Island by Unfrequented Routes, London: J. Murray, 1882. Collingwood, W. G. and Jón Stefánsson, A Pilgrimage to the Saga-Steads of Iceland, Ulverston: W. Holmes, 1899.

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

256

Bibliography

Cooper, James Fenimore, The Red Rover: A Tale, Albany: State University of New York Press, 1991. Crane, Anthony, ‘Walter Crane’s Skeleton in Armor’, The Nineteenth Century, 12 (1993), 18–23. Crane, Elaine Gorman, A Dependent People: Newport, Rhode Island in the Revolutionary Era, New York: Fordham University Press, 1985. Davidson, Hilda R. Ellis, The Road to Hel: A Study of the Conception of the Dead in Old Norse Literature (Ann Arbor: Michigan University Press, 1943). Davidson, Hilda R. Ellis, ‘Loki and Saxo’s Hamlet’, in Paul V. A. Williams (ed.), The Fool and the Trickster: Studies in Honour of Enid Welsford, Totowa: Rowman & Littlefield; Cambridge: D. S. Brewer, 1979, pp. 3–17. Davis, Deborah, Gilded: How Newport Became America’s Richest Resort, New York: John Wiley & Sons, 2009. de Costa, B. F., The Pre-Columbian Discovery of America, by the Northmen, with Translations from the Icelandic Sagas, Albany: J. Munsell’s Sons, 1890. de Mahieu, Jacques, El Rey Vikingo del Paraguay, Buenos Aires: Hachette, 1979. ‘Den ensomme Viking. Den sidste Rest av Kaptein Folgerøs norske Mandskap gaat fra borde i Tampa’, Nordisk Tidende (22 May 1930), p. 1. Desilet, Gregory E., Screens of Blood: A Critical Approach to Film and Television Violence, Jefferson: McFarland & Company, 2014. Dieserud, Juul, Sagaens Leif Erikson: En Karakteristik af Amerikas Første Opdager paa Grundlag af Sagaens Geretning om Ham, Chicago: John Anderson, 1893. Diplomatarium Norvegicum, vol. 18, Christiania [Oslo]: P. T. Malling/ Riksarkivet, 1847. Dohe, Carrie B., Jung’s Wandering Archetype: Race and Religion in Analytical Psychology, London and New York: Routledge, 2016. Donovan, Jack, Androphilia, A Manifesto: Rejecting the Gay Identity, Reclaiming Masculinity, Baltimore: Scapegoat Publishing, 2007. Donovan, Jack, The Way of Men, Milwaukie: Dissonant Hum, 2012. Donovan, Jack, ‘Starting the sacred world’, Tyr, 5 (2018), 35−43. Dorcy, Sister Mary Jean, O. P., ‘Ave Maria, save us from evil’, Our Lady’s Digest, 38 (Fall 1983), 37−42. Dowd, Chris, ‘An autopsy of storytelling: metafiction and Neil Gaiman’, in Darrell Schweitzer (ed.), The Neil Gaiman Reader, Rockville: Wildside Press, 2007, pp. 103–14. Drake, Samuel Adams, A Book of New England Legends and Folk Lore, Boston: Roberts, 1990 [1884]. Dregni, Eric, Vikings in the Attic: In Search of Nordic America, Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press, 2011.

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

Bibliography

257

Duff, Charles, The Truth about Columbus and the Discovery of America, London: Jarrolds, 1957. Dufferin, Lord [Frederick Temple Blackwood], Letters From High Latitudes; Being an Account of a Voyage in the Schooner Yacht ‘Foam’ to Iceland, Jan Mayen, and Spitzbergen, in 1856, London: J. Murray, 1857. Dumézil, Georges, Loki, Paris: G.P. Maisonneuve, 1948. Eco, Umberto, ‘The myth of Superman’, trans. Nathalie Chilton, Diacritics, 2:1 (Spring 1972), 14−22. Edensor, Tim, National Identity, Popular Culture and Everyday Life, Oxford and New York: Bloomsbury Academic, 2002. Egan, James Alan, The History of the Newport City Flag, Newport: Newport Tower Museum, 2014. Egede, Hans, Det gamle Grønlands nye perlustration, Copenhagen: Groth, 1741. Egil’s Saga, trans. Bernard Scudder, in Viðar Hreinsson, Robert Cook, Terry Gunnell, Keneva Kunz, and Bernard Scudder (eds), The Complete Sagas of Icelanders, Including 49 Tales, 5 vols, Reykjavík: Leifur Eiríksson Publishing, 1997, vol. 1, pp. 33–178. Einhorn, Robin L., Property Rules: Political Economy in Chicago, 1832−1872, Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1991. Eirik the Red’s Saga, trans. Keneva Kunz, in Viðar Hreinsson, Robert Cook, Terry Gunnell, Keneva Kunz, and Bernard Scudder (eds), The Complete Sagas of Icelanders, Including 49 Tales, 5 vols, Reykjavík: Leifur Eiríksson Publishing, 1997, vol. 1, pp. 1–18. Eisner, Will, ‘The Wonder Man’, Wonder Comics #1 (May 1939). Eliade, Mircea, Myth and Reality, trans. Willard R. Trask, Long Grove: Waveland, 1963. Elísson, Guðni, ‘From realism to neoromanticism’, in Daisy Neijmann (ed.), A History of Icelandic Literature, Lincoln: University of Nebraska Press, in cooperation with The American-Scandinavian Foundation, 2006, pp. 308–56. Elzae, Rowland, ‘The Viking ship window’, Tiller, 2 (March−April 1984), 60−3. Emerson, Ralph Waldo, ‘The genius and national character of the AngloSaxon race’, in Ronald Bosco and Joel Meyerson (eds), The Later Lectures of Ralph Waldo Emerson, Athens: University of Georgia Press, 2010, pp. 8–18. Eno, Paul F. and Glenn Laxton, Rhode Island: A Genial History, Woonsocket: New River Press, 2005. Enterline, James Robert, Viking America: The Norse Crossings and their Legacy, Garden City: Double Day and Company, 1972. Evanier, Mark, Kirby: King of Comics, New York: Abrams, 2008. Evanier, Mark, ‘Afterword’, in Joe Simon and Jack Kirby, The Sandman, New York: DC Comics, 2009, pp. 301–2.

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

258

Bibliography

Eyford, Ryan, White Settler Reserve: New Iceland and the Colonization of the Canadian West, Vancouver: University of British Columbia Press, 2016. Eyrbyggja saga, Grænlendinga so˛gur, ed. Einar Ól. Sveinsson and Matthías Þórðarson, Íslenzk fornrit IV, Reykjavík: Hið íslenzka fornritafélag, 1935. Ferguson, Robert, The Vikings: A History, New York: Viking, 2009. Ferrari, Fulvio, ‘Gods of dreams and suburbia: Old Norse deities in Neil Gaiman’s polymythological universe’, in Katja Schulz (ed.), Eddische Götter und Helden: Milieus und Medien ihre Rezeption, Heidelberg: Universitätsverlag Winter, 2011, pp. 129–41. Finnbogason, Guðmundur, Íslendingar: Nokkur drög að þjóðarlýsingu, Reykjavík: Menningarsjóður, 1933. Fitzhugh, William F. and Elisabeth I. Ward (eds), Vikings: The North Atlantic Saga, Washington, DC: Smithsonian Institute Press, 2000. Flowers, Stephen E., Runes and Magic: Magical Formulaic Elements in the Older Runic Tradition, Bastrop: Lodestar, 2014. Folgerø, Gerhard, Over Nordatlanteren i åpen båt, Oslo: Arthur Rosén, 1944. Forbes, Commander Charles, Iceland: Its Volcanoes, Geysers and Glaciers, London: J. Murray, 1860. Foulke, W. D., Biography and Correspondence of Arthur Middleton Reeves, London: Henry Frowde, 1895. Frakes, Jerold C., ‘Vikings, Vínland and the discourse of Eurocentrism’, JEGP: Journal of English and Germanic Philology, 100:2 (2001), 157−99. Friedman, Drew, Heroes of the Comics: Portraits of the Legends of Comic Books, Seattle: Fanagraphics Books, 2014. Friedman, Drew, More Heroes of the Comics: Portraits of the Legends of Comic Books, Seattle: Fanagraphics Books, 2016. Fry, Paul, The Poet’s Calling in the English Ode, New Haven: Yale University Press, 1980. Gabilliet, Jean-Paul, Of Comics and Men: A Cultural History of American Comic Books, trans. Bart Beaty and Nick Nguyen, Jackson: University Press of Mississippi, 2010. Gaiman, Neil, American Gods, London: Headline Book Publishing, 2001. Gaiman, Neil, ‘The monarch of the glen: an American Gods novella’, in Fragile Things, London: Headline Review, 2007, pp. 369–433. Gaiman, Neil, Norse Mythology, London: Bloomsbury, 2017. Gaimard, Joseph Paul and Eugène Robert, Voyage en Islande et au Groënland and exécuté pendant les années 1835 et 1836 sur la corvette La Recherche, Paris: A. Bertrand, 1851. Garcia, Lorenzo F., Jr, ‘Dionysus comes to Gotham: forces of disorder in The Dark Knight (2008)’, in Monica S. Cyrino and Meredith E. Safran (eds), Classical Myth on Screen, New York: Palgrave Macmillan, 2015, pp. 183–93.

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

Bibliography

259

Gardell, Mattias, Gods of the Blood: The Pagan Revival and White Separatism, Durham: Duke University Press, 2003. Genette, Gérard, The Architext: An Introduction, trans. Jane E. Lewis, Berkeley: University of California Press, 1992. Gilje, Osvald, Gerhard Folgerø – en eventyrer, Sandnes: Commentum Forlag, 2013. Goñi, Uki, The Real Odessa: How Peron Brought the Nazi War Criminals to Argentina, rev. edn, London: Granta, 2002. Goodnow, Trischa, ‘Superman as allegory: examining the isolationist/ interventionist dilemma’, in Trischa Goodnow and James J. Kimble (eds), The 10 Cent War: Comic Books, Propaganda, and World War II, Jackson: University Press of Mississippi, 2016, pp. 114–30. Goodrick-Clarke, Nicholas, Black Sun: Aryan Cults, Esoteric Nazism, and the Politics of Identity, New York: New York University Press, 2003. Goudsward, David, The Westford Knight and Henry Sinclair: Evidence of a 14th Century Scottish Voyage to North America, Jefferson: McFarland & Co., 2010. Goudsward, David and Robert E. Stone, America’s Stonehenge, Boston: Branden Books, 2014. Graebe, Martin, ‘Foreword’, in Sabine Baring-Gould, Iceland: Its Scenes and Sagas, Oxford: Signal Books, 2007, pp. xiv−xl. Gray, Thomas, Gray: Poetry & Prose, with Essays by Johnson, Goldsmith and Others, ed. J. Crofts, Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1926. Grímsson, Ólafur Ragnar, ‘President’s address’, Lögberg-Heimskringla (29 August 1997), p. 2. Griswold, Rufus, Passages from the Correspondence and Other Papers of Rufus Griswold, Cambridge: W. M. Griswold, 1898. Gröndal, Benedikt Sveinbjarnarson, ‘Frelsi – menntan – framför’, Gefn, 2:1 (1871), 1−51. Guralnick, Eleanor (ed.), Vikings in the West, Chicago: Archaeological Institute of America, 1982. Guðmundsson, Böðvar (ed.), Bréf Vestur-Íslendinga, 2 vols, Reykjavík: Mál og menning, 2001–2. Hálfdanarson, Guðmundur, ‘Severing the ties – Iceland’s journey from a union with Denmark to a nation-state’, Scandinavian Journal of History, 31 (2006), 237–54. Hálfdanarson, Guðmundur, ‘An English gentleman visits two “rude islands”: John Barrow Jnr in early nineteenth-century Iceland and Ireland’, in Christopher Maginn and Gerald Power (eds), Frontiers, States and Identity in Early Modern Ireland and Beyond: Essays in Honour of Steven G. Ellis, Dublin: Four Courts Press, 2016, pp. 205–20. Halink, Simon, ‘Asgard Revisited: Old Norse Mythology and Icelandic National Culture 1820–1918’, PhD thesis, University of Groningen, 2017.

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

260

Bibliography

Halink, Simon, ‘Icelandic perspectives’, in Jürg Glauser, Pernille Hermann, and Stephen Mitchell (eds), Handbook of Pre-Modern Nordic Memory Studies: Interdisciplinary Approaches, 2 vols, Berlin and New York: De Gruyter, 2018, vol. 1, pp. 805–10. Harty, Kevin J., ‘The Vikings on film: a filmography’, in Kevin J. Harty (ed.), The Vikings on Film: Essays on Depictions of the Nordic Middle Ages, Jefferson: McFarland & Co., 2011, pp. 193–214. Harty, Kevin J., ‘Who’s savage now? – the Vikings in North America’, in Kevin J. Harty (ed.), The Vikings on Film: Essays on Depictions of the Nordic Middle Ages Jefferson: McFarland & Co., 2011, pp. 106–20. Hastrup, Kirsten, ‘Uchronia and the two histories of Iceland, 1400–1800’, in Kirsten Hastrup (ed.), Other Histories, London and New York: Routledge, 1992, pp. 102–20. Haugen, Einar, ‘The Edda as ritual: Odin and his masks’, in Haraldur Bessason and Robert J. Glendinning (eds), Edda: A Collection of Essays, Winnipeg: University of Manitoba Press, 1983, pp. 3–24. ‘Hávamál’, in Eddukvæði, ed. Jónas Kristjánsson and Vésteinn Ólason, 2 vols, Reykjavík: Hið íslenzka fornritafélag, 2014, vol. 1, pp. 322–55. Headley, Phineas Camp, The Island of Fire, or, A Thousand Years of the Old Northmen’s Home, 874–1874, Boston: Lee and Shepard; New York: Charles T. Dillingham, 1874. Heaney, Seamus, Death of a Naturalist, London: Faber and Faber, 1966. Hedenborg-White, Manon, ‘Contemporary paganism’, in James R. Lewis and Jesper Aa. Petersen (eds), Controversial New Religions, Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2014, pp. 315–30. Helgason, Jón Karl, ‘Hver á íslenska menningu? Frá Sigurði Nordal til Eddu – miðlunar og útgáfu’, Skírnir, 176 (Fall 2002), 401−22. Helgason, Jón Karl, Echoes of Valhalla: The Afterlife of the Eddas and Sagas, trans. Jane Victoria Appleton, London: Reaktion Books, 2017. Helsinger, Elizabeth, Ruskin and the Art of the Beholder, Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1982. Henderson, Rev. Ebenezer, Iceland, or, the Journal of a Residence in that Island, during the Years 1814 and 1815, 2 vols, Edinburgh: Oliphant, 1818. Hermansson, Halldór, Modern Icelandic: An Essay, Islandica XII, Ithaca: Cornell University Press, 1919. Heyerdahl, Thor and Per Lillieström, Ingen Grenser, Oslo: J. M. Stenersens Forlag, 1999. Higgins, Andrew C., ‘Longfellow’s conversations: Weltliteratur as aesthetic in the early poetry’, in Christoph Irmscher and Robert Arbour (eds), Reconsidering Longfellow, Madison: Fairleigh Dickinson University Press, 2014, pp. 11–31. Hinds, Ernest Jasper, Newport Poems, Boston: Christopher Publishing House, 1942.

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

Bibliography

261

‘History of Gerry’s Landing: Leif Erikson is supposed to have settled there 900 years ago’, Cambridge Tribune (19 May 1917), p. 5. Hobsbawm, Eric and Terence Ranger (eds), The Invention of Tradition, New York: Cambridge University Press, 1983. Hogle, Jerrold E., The Cambridge Companion to Gothic Fiction, New York: Cambridge University Press, 2002. Holand, Hjalmar, Westward from Vinland: An Account of Norse Discoveries and Explorations in America 982−1362, New York: Duell, Sloan, & Pearce, 1940. Holland, Sir Henry, ‘Preliminary dissertation on the history and literature of Iceland’, in George S. Mackenzie, Travels in the Island of Iceland in the Summer of the Year MCCCX, Edinburgh: Thomas Allan and Co., 1811, pp. 1–70. Holland, Luke, ‘Whispers from the forest: the excluded past of the Aché Indians of Paraguay’, in P. Stone and R. MacKenzie (eds), The Excluded Past: Archeology in Education, London: Routledge, 1990, pp. 134–51. Hollier, Denis, ‘On writing literary history’, in Denis Hollier et al. (eds), A New History of French Literature, Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1989, pp. xxi–xxv. Honoré, Pierre, In Quest of the White God: The Mysterious Heritage of South American Civilization, New York: Putnam, 1963. Hooker, William Jackson, Journal of a Tour in Iceland in the Summer of 1809, London: Longman, 1813. Horsford, Eben Norton, The Discovery of the Ancient City of Norumbega, Boston: Houghton Mifflin, 1890. Horsford, Eben Norton, Sketch of the Norse Discovery of America, at the Festival of the Scandinavian Societies Assembled May 18, 1891, in Boston, on the Occasion of Presenting a Testimonial to Eben Norton Horsford, in Recognition of the Finding of the Landfall of Leif Erikson, the Site of his Vineland Home and of the Ancient Norse City of Norumbega, in Massachusetts, in the 43rd Degree, Boston: n.p., 1891. Horsford, Eben Norton, The Landfall of Leif Erikson A. D. 1000 and the Site of the Houses in Vineland, Boston: Damrell and Upham, 1892. Horsford, Eben Norton, Leif’s House in Vinland, Boston: Damrell and Upham, 1893. Horsman, Reginald, Race and Manifest Destiny: The Origins of American Racial Anglo-Saxonism, Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1981. Howell, Frederick William Warbrek, Icelandic Pictures Drawn with Pen and Pencil, London: Religious Tract Society, 1893. Hunter, Douglas, The Place of Stone: Dighton Rock and the Erasure of America’s Indigenous Past, Chapel Hill: University of North Carolina Press, 2017. Hustvedt, Lloyd, Rasmus Bjørn Anderson, Pioneer Scholar, Northfield: Norwegian-American Historical Association, 1966.

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

262

Bibliography

Hyde, Lewis, Trickster Makes This World: Mischief, Myth and Art, New York: Farrar, Straus and Giroux, 2010. Ingstad, Helge, ‘Viking ruins prove Vikings found the New World’, National Geographic, 126 (1964), 708−34. ‘Invite Norwegians to dedication of Leif Ericson Drive’, Chicago Daily Tribune (31 August 1927), p. 10. Ip, John, ‘The Dark Knight’s war on terrorism’, Ohio State Journal of Criminal Law, 9:1 (2011), 209−29. Ísleifsson, Sumarliði R., Tvær eyjar á jaðrinum: Ímyndir Íslands og Grænlands frá miðöldum til miðrar 19. aldar, Reykjavík: Háskólaútgáfan, 2015. Ísleifsson, Sumarliði R., ‘Within or outside Europe? Modernists and antimodernists visiting Iceland in the mid-nineteenth century’, in Simon Halink (ed.), Northern Myths, Modern Identities: The Nationalisation of Northern Mythologies Since 1800, Leiden and Boston: Brill, 2019, pp. 33–48. Íslendingabók, in Íslendingabók, Landnámabók, ed. Jakob Benediktsson, 2 vols, Íslenzk fornrit I, Reykjavík: Hið íslenzka fornritafélag, 1968, vol. 1, pp. 1–28. ‘Íslenzkir annálar’, in Guðbrandur Vigfússon [Gudbrandur Vigfusson] (ed.), Sturlunga Saga, 2 vols, Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1878, pp. 348–91. Jackson, Virginia, ‘Longfellow’s tradition, or, picture-writing a nation’, Modern Language Quarterly: A Journal of Literary History, 59:4 (1998), 471−96. Jakobsson, Ármann, ‘Loki’s flexible masculinity: Old Norse myths and medieval notions of gender’, Limes, 12 (forthcoming). Jakobsson, Sverrir, ‘“Black men and malignant-looking”: The place of the indigenous peoples of North America in the Icelandic world view’, in Andrew Wawn and Þórunn Sigurðardóttir (eds), Approaches to Vínland: A Conference on the Written and Archaeological Sources for the Norse Settlements in the North-Atlantic Region and Exploration of America, Reykjavík: Sigurður Nordal Institute, 2001, pp. 88–104. ‘Jason eða Ingólfur?’, Ísafold (25 August 1906), p. 218. Jónsson, Helgi, ‘Ávarp til Íslendinga’, Leifur, 1 (1883), 1−2. Jónsson, Jónas, Íslandssaga handa börnum, 2 vols, Reykjavík: Félags­ prentsmiðjan, 1915−16. Jónsson, Snæbjörn [Snaebjorn Jonsson], A Primer of Modern Icelandic, London: Oxford University Press, 1927. Judy, Jon and Brad Palmer, ‘Boys on the battlefield: kid combatants as propaganda in World War II-era comic books’, in Trischa Goodnow and James J. Kimble (eds), The 10 Cent War: Comic Books, Propaganda, and World War II, Jackson: University Press of Mississippi, 2016, pp. 66–79. Jung, Carl Gustav, Civilization in Transition, ed. Gerhard Adler and R.F.C. Hull, Collected Works 10, Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1970.

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

Bibliography

263

Kalmus, H. T., ‘Technicolor adventures in Cinemaland’, Journal of the Society of Motion Picture Engineers, 30 (December 1938), 564−85. Kaplan, Jeffrey, Radical Religion in America: From the Far Right to the Children of Noah, Religion and Politics 1, Syracuse: Syracuse University Press, 1997. Karlsson, Gunnar, Iceland’s 1100 Years: The History of a Marginal Society, London: Hurst & Company, 2000. Katsion, John R., ‘The Boy Commandos comic book as equipment for living: the comic book form as propaganda’, in Trischa Goodnow and James J. Kimble (eds), The 10 Cent War: Comic Books, Propaganda, and World War II, Jackson: University Press of Mississippi, 2016, pp. 80–94. Kavadlo, Jesse, American Popular Culture in the Era of Terror: Falling Skies, Dark Knights Rising, and Collapsing Cultures, Santa Barbara: Praeger, 2015. Keats, John, The Complete Poems of John Keats, ed. John Barnard, Harmondsworth: Penguin, 1977. Kerkering, Jack, ‘“Of me and of mine”: the music of racial identity in Whitman and Lanier, Dvorˇák and DuBois’, American Literature: A Journal of Literary History, Criticism, and Bibliography, 73:1 (2001), 147−84. Kerkering, John D., The Poetics of National and Racial Identity in Nineteenth-Century American Literature, Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2003. Key, Michael, ‘The anxiety of disappearance’, in Tara Prescott (ed.), Neil Gaiman in the 21st Century: Essays on the Novels, Children’s Stories, Online Writings and Other Works, Jefferson: McFarland & Company, 2015, pp. 19–28. Kimble, James J. and Trischa Goodnow, ‘Introduction’, in Trischa Goodnow and James J. Kimble (eds), The 10 Cent War: Comic Books, Propaganda, and World War II, Jackson: University Press of Mississippi, 2016, pp. 3–25. Klingenberg, Heinz, ‘Types of Eddic mythological poetry’, in Haraldur Bessason and Robert J. Glendinning (eds), Edda: A Collection of Essays, Winnipeg: University of Manitoba Press, 1983, pp. 134–64. Knaplund, Paul, ‘Rasmus B. Anderson, pioneer and crusader’, Norwegian American Studies and Records, 18 (1954), 23−43. Kneeland, Samuel, An American in Iceland: An Account of its Scenery, People, and History. With a description of its Millennial Celebration in August, 1874; with Notes on the Orkney, Shetland, and Faroe Islands, and the Great Eruption of 1875, Boston: Lockwood, Brooks, and Company, 1876. Koerner, E. F. K., ‘William Dwight Whitney and the influence of geology on linguistic theory in the nineteenth century’, in Bernd Nauman, Frans Plank, and Gottfried Hoffbauer (eds), Language and Earth: Elective

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

264

Bibliography

Affinities between the Emerging Sciences of Linguistics and Geology, Amsterdam: John Benjamins, 1992, pp. 271–87. Kolodny, Annette, In Search of First Contact: The Vikings of Vinland, the Peoples of the Dawnland, and the Anglo-American Anxiety of Discovery, Durham and London: Duke University Press, 2012. Krause-Loner, Shawn, ‘Scar-lip, Sky-walker and Mischief-monger: the Norse god Loki as Trickster’, PhD thesis, Miami University, 2003. Krueger, David M., Myths of the Rune Stone: Viking Martyrs and the Birthplace of America, Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press, 2015. Lanier, Sidney, ‘Psalm of the West’, in Poems of Sidney Lanier, New York: Scribner’s, 1899, pp. 114–38. Larrington, Carolyne, The Norse Myths: A Guide to the Gods and Heroes, London: Thames & Hudson, 2017. Larsen, Birgit Flemming, Henning Bender, and Karen Veien (eds), On Distant Shores: Proceedings of the Marcus Lee Hansen Immigration Conference, Aalborg, Denmark, June 29–July 1, 1992, Aalborg: Danes Worldwide Archives in collaboration with the Danish Society for Emigration History, 1993. The Laxdæla Saga, trans. Thorstein Veblen, New York: B. W. Huebsch, 1925. Lee, Stan, Peter David and Coleen Doran, Amazing Fantastic Incredible: A Marvelous Memoir, New York: Touchstone, 2015. Leerssen, Joep, When was Romantic Nationalism? The Onset, the Long Tail, the Banal, Nise Essays 2, Antwerp: Nise, 2014. Leonard, Thomas M., The History of Honduras, Santa Barbara: Greenwood, 2011. Leoussi, Athena S. and Steven Grosby, ‘Introduction’, in Athena S. Leoussi and Steven Grosby (eds), Nationalism and Ethnosymbolism: History, Culture and Ethnicity in the Formation of Nations, Edinburgh: Edinburgh University Press, 2007, pp. 1–11. Lerer, Seth, Error and the Academic Self, New York: Columbia University Press, 2002. Lerner, Marion, Von der ödesten und traurigsten Gegend zur Insel der Träume: Islandsreisebücher im touristischen Kontext, Munich: Herbert Utz Verlag, 2015. Liljencrantz, Ottilie A., The Thrall of Leif the Lucky: A Story of Viking Days, Chicago: A. C. McClure & Co., 1902. Lincoln, Wright, ‘Thor, god of thunder’, Weird Comics #1 (April 1940). Lincoln, Wright, ‘Thor goes to war’, Weird Comics #2 (May 1940). Lincoln, Wright, ‘Invasion from Mexico’, Weird Comics #3 (June 1940). Lincoln, Wright, ‘The Buddha’s golden hoard’, Weird Comics #4 (July 1940). Lincoln, Wright, ‘Blood piracy in Shanghai’, Weird Comics #5 (August 1940).

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

Bibliography

265

Lindow, John, Murder and Vengeance Among the Gods: Baldr in Scandinavian Mythology, Helsinki: Suomalainen Tiedeakatemia / Academia Scientiaram Fennica, 1997. Loewen, James W., Lies My Teacher Told Me About Christopher Columbus: What Your History Books Got Wrong, 2nd edn, New York: New Press, 2014. Loewen, James W., Lies My Teacher Told Me: Everything Your American History Textbook Got Wrong, rev. edn, New York: New Press, 2018. Loftsdóttir, Kristín and Katrín Anna Lund, ‘Þingvellir: commodifying the “heart” of Iceland’, in Graham Huggan and Lars Jensen (eds), Postcolonial Perspectives on the European High North: Unscrambling the Arctic, New York: Macmillan, 2016, pp. 117–41. Logan, F. Donald, The Vikings in History, 3rd edn, London: Routledge, 2005. Long, Ann-Marie, Iceland’s Relationship with Norway, c. 870–c. 1100: Memory, History and Identity, Leiden: Brill, 2017. Longfellow, Henry Wadsworth, ‘The Skeleton in Armor’, in Ballads and Other Poems, Cambridge: John Owen, 1841, pp. 29–41. Lottman, Herbert R., Jules Verne: An Exploratory Biography, New York: St Martin’s Press, 1996. Lovoll, Odd S., The Promise of America: A History of the NorwegianAmerican People, Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press, 1984. Lovoll, Odd S., A Century of Urban Life: The Norwegians in Chicago Before 1930, Northfield: Norwegian-American Historical Association, 1988. Lovoll, Odd S., Norwegians on the Prairie: Ethnicity and the Development of the Country Town, St Paul: Minnesota Historical Society Press, 2006. Lunde, Arne, Nordic Exposures: Scandinavian Identities in Classical Hollywood Cinema, Seattle: University of Washington Press, 2010. Lunenfeld, Marvin, ‘Columbus bashing: culture wars over the construction of an anti-hero’, in Mario B. Mignone (ed.), Columbus: Meeting of Cultures. Proceedings of the Symposium Held at the State University of New York at Stony Brook, October 16–17, 1992, Stony Brook: Forum Italicum, 1993. Lützeler, Paul Michael, ‘Goethe and Europe’, South Atlantic Review, 65:2 (2000), 95−113. Mabie, Hamilton Wright, Norse Stories Retold from the Eddas, New York: Dodd, Mead and Company, 1908. McCollum, Jonathan C., ‘Thomas Carlyle, fascism, and Frederick: from Victorian prophet to fascist ideologue’, MA thesis, Brigham Young University, 2007. MacFarlane, Jerrod, ‘Desperate times and desperate measures: false representation and distortion of terrorism in post-9/11 superhero films’, Critical Studies on Terrorism, 7:3 (2014), 446−55.

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

266

Bibliography

McGhee, Robert, ‘Norsemen and Eskimos in Arctic Canada’, in Eleanor Guralnick (ed.), Vikings in the West, Chicago: Archaeological Institute of America, 1982, pp. 38–52. Mackenie, Sir George Steuart, Travels in the Island of Iceland in the Summer of the Year MCCCCX, Edinburgh: Thomas Allan and Co., 1811. McKinnell, John, ‘Motivation and meaning in Lokasenna’, in Donata Kick and John D. Shafer (eds), Essays on Eddic Poetry, Toronto: University of Toronto Press, 2014, pp. 172–99. McLoughlin, William G., Rhode Island: A History, New York: W. W. Norton & Company, 1986. McNallen, Stephen, For Those in Harm’s Way: Asatru Book of Faith, Nevada City: Asatru Folk Assembly, 2010. Magelssen, Scott, ‘White-skinned gods: Thor Heyerdahl, the Kon-Tiki Museum, and the racial theory of Polynesian origins’, TDR: The Drama Review, 60 (2016), 25−49. Magnússon, Finnur [Finnur Magnusen] and Carl Christian Rafn, Grönlands Historiske Mindesmærker, 3 vols, Copenhagen: Möller, 1838–45. Maloney, Marcus, The Search for Meaning in Film and Television: Disenchantment at the Turn of the Millennium, New York: Palgrave, 2015. Mancini, J. M., ‘Discovering Viking America’, Critical Inquiry, 28 (Summer 2002), 868−907. Marcus, G. J., The Conquest of the North Atlantic, Woodbridge: Boydell, 1980. Martin, Andrew, The Mask of the Prophet: The Extraordinary Fictions of Jules Verne, Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1990. Martine, Roddy, The Secrets of Rosslyn, Edinburgh: Birlinn, 2016. Mason, George C., Newport and Its Cottages, Boston: J. R. Osgood, 1875. Matthews, David, Medievalism: A Critical History, Cambridge: D. S. Brewer, 2015. Matthíasdóttir, Sigríður, Hinn sanni Íslendingur: Þjóðerni, kyngervi og vald á Íslandi 1900–1930, Reykjavík: Háskólaútgáfan, 2004. Maurer, Konrad, Isländische Volkssagen der Gegenwart, Leipzig: Verlag der J.C. Hinrichs’schen Buchhandlung, 1860. Means, Philip Ainsworth, Newport Tower, New York: Henry Holt, 1942. Melton, Zachary J., ‘Nineteenth-century American reception of Old Norse literature: the search for American identity’, MA thesis, University of Iceland, 2017. Metcalfe, Frederick, The Oxonian in Iceland, or, Notes of Travel in that Island in the Summer of 1860, with Glances at Icelandic Folk-lore and Sagas, London: Longman, 1861. Miles, Pliny, Norðurfari, or, Rambles in Iceland, New York: Charles B. Norton, 1854.

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

Bibliography

267

Miller, Frank, The Dark Knight Returns, New York: DC Comics, 2014. Mitchell, P. M. (ed.), Willard Fiske in Iceland, Ithaca: Cornell University Library, 1989. Moore, Alan, The Killing Joke: Deluxe Edition, New York: DC Comics, 2008. Morris, William, Icelandic Journals, Fontwell: Centaur Press, 1969. Morrison, Grant, Supergods: What Masked Vigilantes, Miraculous Mutants, and a Sun God from Smallville Can Teach Us About Being Human, New York: Spiegel & Grau, 2012. Morrissey, Rich, ‘Commandos in Valhalla’, in John Morrow (ed.), The Collected Jack Kirby Collector, vol. 3, Raleigh: TwoMorrows Publising, 2004, pp. 86–7. Mortensen, Peter, “‘The Descent of Odin”: Wordsworth, Scott and Southey among the Norsemen’, Romanticism: The Journal of Romantic Culture and Criticism, 6:2 (2000), 211−33. Murray, James A. H., ‘President’s address’, Transactions of the Philological Society (1884), 501−30. Musial, Glen, ‘More than your average Joe: excerpts from Joe Simon’s panels at the 1998 Comicon International: San Diego’, Jack Kirby Collector, 25 (August 1999), 33−49. Musmanno, Michael A., Columbus WAS First, New York: Fountainhead Publishers, 1966. Nauman, Bernd, Frans Plank, and Gottfried Hoffbauer (eds), Language and Earth: Elective Affinities between the Emerging Sciences of Linguistics and Geology, Amsterdam: John Benjamins, 1992. Neijmann, Daisy L., The Icelandic Voice in Canadian Letters: The Contribution of Icelandic-Canadian Writers to Canadian Literature, Ottawa: Carleton University Press, 1997. Nolan, Christopher, Jonathan Nolan, and David S. Goyer, ‘Script: The Dark Knight’, in Craig Byrne, The Dark Knight: Featuring Production Art and Full Shooting Script (New York: Universe, 2008), pp. 66–239. Nordal, Sigurður, Icelandic Culture, trans. Vilhjálmur T. Bjarnar, Ithaca: Cornell University Library, 1990. Nordal, Sigurður, Íslenzk menning, Reykjavík: Mál og menning, 1942. O’Donoghue, Heather, ‘What has Baldr to do with Lamech?’, Medium Ævum, LXXII (2003), 82−107. O’Donoghue, Heather, English Poetry and Old Norse Myth: A History, Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2014. O’Neil, Dennis, Batman: Knightfall, New York: Spectra, 1994. O’Neill, Morina, ‘Paintings from nowhere: Walter Crane, socialism and the aesthetic interior’, in Jason Edwards and Imogen Hart (eds), Rethinking the Interior, c. 1867−1896, Farnham, Surrey: Ashgate, 2010, pp. 147–63. Ólafsson, Davíð and Sigurður Gylfi Magnússon (eds), Burt og meir en bæjarleið: Dagbækur og persónuleg skrif Vesturheimsfara á síðari

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

268

Bibliography

hluta 19. aldar, Sýnisbók íslenskrar alþýðumenningar 5, Reykjavík: Háskólaútgáfan, 2001. The Old Stone Mill: A Finding Aid, Newport: Redwood Library and Athenaeum, 1998. Olsen, Martha Lilja Marthensdóttir‚ ‘“Jeg er fædd í Canada og því canadísk að ætt”: Einsögurannsókn á lífi tveggja vestur-íslenskra kvenna’, Sagnir, 24 (2004), 82−9. Olson, Daron W., Vikings Across the Atlantic: Emigration and the Building of a Greater Norway, 1860–1945, Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press, 2013. Orel, Vladimir, A Handbook of Germanic Etymology, Leiden and Boston: Brill, 2003. Oslund, Karen, ‘Imagining Iceland: narratives of nature and history in the North Atlantic’, British Journal for the History of Science, 35 (2002), 313−34. Oslund, Karen, Iceland Imagined: Nature, Culture, and Storytelling in the North Atlantic, Seattle: University of Washington Press, 2011. Oswald, Elizabeth Jane, By Fell and Fjord, or, Scenes and Studies in Iceland, Edinburgh and London: W. Blackwood and Sons, 1882. ‘Ottilie Liljencrantz’, The American Scandinavian, 3 (November 1910), 17. Percy, Thomas, Five Pieces of Runic Poetry: Translated from the Islandic Language, London: Dodsley, 1763. Percy, Thomas, Northern Antiquities, or, a description of the manners, customs, religion and laws of the ancient Danes, and other northern nations; including those of our own Saxon ancestors. With A Translation of the Edda, or System of Runic Mythology, and Other Pieces, From the Ancient Islandic Tongue. In two volumes. Translated from Mons. Mallet’s Introduction a L’Histoire de Dannemarc, &c. With Additional Notes By the English Translator, and Goranson’s Latin Version of the Edda. London: T. Carnan and Co., 1770. Petersen, Erik, ‘Vínlandsferð Flateyjarbókar. Um bókaverði, Codex Flateyensis og þjóðlega hégómadýrð’, trans. Finnbogi Guðmundsson, Árbók Landsbókasafns Íslands, 17 (1991), 5−25. Pfeiffer, Ida, A Visit to Iceland and the Scandinavian North. Translated from the German of Madame Ida Pfeiffer; with Numerous Explanatory Notes and Eight Tinted Engravings; to which are added an Essay on Icelandic Poetry, from the French of M. Bergmann, London: Ingram, Cook, 1852. Pineda, Baron, ‘Indigenous Pan-Americanism: contesting settler colonialism and the doctrine of discovery at the UN permanent forum on indigenous issues’, American Quarterly, 69:4 (2017), 823−32. Pistilli, Vicente, Vikingos en el Paraguay, Asunción: R. Rolón, 1978. Pjetursson, Hafsteinn, ‘Jónatan (Bandaríkin)’, Tjaldbúðin, 3 (1899), 3−21. ‘Plan $400,000 monument on Ericson Drive’, Chicago Daily Tribune (12 September 1927), p. 1.

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

Bibliography

269

The Poetic Edda, ed. and trans. Carolyne Larrington, rev. edn, Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2014. Pollard, Josephine, History of the United States: Told in One-Syllable Words, New York: McLoughlin Brothers, 1884. Porterfield, John, ‘A review of The Dark Knight (2008)’, Psychological Perspectives, 52:2 (2009), 271−5. Pound, Ezra, The Cantos of Ezra Pound, New York: New Directions, 1996. Proppé, Kolbeinn Óttarsson, ‘Hetjudýrkun á hátíðarstundu. Þjóðhátíðir og viðhald þjóðernisvitundar’, in Jón Yngvi Jóhannsson, Kolbeinn Óttarsson Proppé and Sverrir Jákobsson (eds), Þjóðerni í þúsund ár?, Reykjavík: Háskólaútgáfan, 2003, pp. 151–65. Prosser, Jenn Anya, ‘The American Odyssey’, in Tara Prescott (ed.), Neil Gaiman in the 21st Century: Essays on the Novels, Children’s Stories, Online Writings and Other Works, Jefferson: McFarland & Company, 2015, pp. 9–18. Quattro, Ken, ‘Superman vs. the Wonderman 1939, or, to put it another way – DC Comics vs. Victor Fox’, Alter Ego, 101 (May 2011), 27−58. Quinn, Judy, ‘What Frigg knew: the goddess as prophetess in Old Norse mythology’, in Maria Elena Ruggerini and Veronika Szöke (eds), Dee, profetesse, regine e altre figure femminili nel Medioevo germanico, Cagliari: CUEC, 2015, pp. 67–88. Rafn, Carl Christian, Antiqvitates Americanæ sive Scriptores Septenti­ rionales rerum ante-Columbianarum in America: Samling af de i Nordens Oldskrifter indeholdte Efterretninger om de gamle Nordboeres Opdagelsesrejser til America fra det 10de til det 14de Aarhundrede, Copenhagen: Societas Regia Antiquariorum Septentrionalium, 1837. Rafn, Carl Christian, America Discovered in the Tenth Century, New York: W. Jackson, 1838. Reeves, Arthur Middleton, The Finding of Wineland the Good: The History of the Icelandic Discovery of America, London: Henry Frowde, 1890. Reynolds, Richard, Superheroes: A Modern Mythology, Oxford: University Press of Mississippi, 1994. Ross, Margaret Clunies, The Norse Muse in Britain, 1750–1820, Trieste: Parnaso, 1998. Rowlands, Walter, ‘The Miss Wolfe collection’, Art Journal (January 1889), 12−15. Russell, W. S. C., Iceland: Horseback Tours in Saga Land, Boston: Richard G. Badger; Toronto: Copp Clark, 1914. The Saga of the Greenlanders, trans. Keneva Kunz, in Viðar Hreinsson, Robert Cook, Terry Gunnell, Keneva Kunz, and Bernard Scudder (eds), The Complete Sagas of Icelanders, Including 49 Tales, 5 vols, Reykjavík: Leifur Eiríksson Publishing, 1997, vol. 1, pp. 19–32.

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

270

Bibliography

The Saga of the People of Eyri, trans. Judy Quinn, in Viðar Hreinsson, Robert Cook, Terry Gunnell, Keneva Kunz, and Bernard Scudder (eds), The Complete Sagas of Icelanders, Including 49 Tales, 5 vols, Reykjavík: Leifur Eiríksson Publishing, 1997, vol. 5, pp. 131–218. Sale, Kirkpatrick, The Conquest of Paradise: Christopher Columbus and the Columbian Legacy, New York: Alfred A. Knopf, 1990. Savage, William, Comic Books and America, 1945–1954, Norman: University of Oklahoma Press, 1990. Schach, Paul, ‘Some thoughts on Völuspá’, in Haraldur Bessason and Robert J. Glendinning (eds), Edda: A Collection of Essays, Winnipeg: University of Manitoba Press, 1983, pp. 86–116. Schultz, April R., ‘“The pride of the race had been touched”: the 1925 Norse-American Immigration Centennial and ethnic identity’, The Journal of American History, 77:4 (1991), 1265−95. Schultz, April R., Ethnicity on Parade: Inventing the Norwegian American through Celebration, Amherst: University of Massachusetts Press, 1994. Scott, Cord A., Comics and Conflict: Patriotism and Propaganda from WWII through Operation Iraqi Freedom, Annapolis: Naval Institute Press, 2014. ‘The sea serpent’, Boston Globe (19 July 1877), p. 8. Seaver, Kirsten A., Maps, Myths, and Men: The Story of the Vinland Map, Palo Alto: Stanford University Press, 2004. Sharpe, Adrienne Leigh and Sarah Kutcha, ‘Rediscovering Vinland’, PRSUS: The Pre-Raphaelite Society Newsletter of the United States, 17 (Summer 2007), 1−3 Sheldon, George William, Artistic Country-Seats, 2 vols, New York: De Capo Press, 1979. Shipley, Marie A., The Norse Colonization in America in the Light of the Vatican Finds, Lucerne: H. Keller, 1889. Shipley, Marie A., The Icelandic Discoverers of America, or, Honor to Whom Honor is Due, New York: John B. Alden, 1890. Shipley, John B. and Marie A. Shipley, The English Rediscovery and Colonization of America, London: Elliott Stock, 1891. Sigourney, L. H., ‘The Newport Tower’, in Scenes in My Native Land, Boston: James Munroe and Co., 1845, pp. 262–3. Sigourney, L. H., ‘War’, in Lydia Sigourney: Selected Poetry and Prose, ed. Gary Kelly, New York: Broadview Press, 2008, p. 140. Sigurðsson, Gísli, ‘Vík er Paradísu lík’, Lesbók Morgunblaðsins (13 November 1993), pp. 4–6. Sigurðsson, Haraldur, Ísland í skrifum erlendra manna um þjóðlíf og náttúru landsins. Ritaskrá. Writings of Foreigners Relating to the Nature and People of Iceland. A Bibliography, Reykjavík: Landsbókasafn Íslands, 1991. Simon, Joe and Jack Kirby, ‘The Shadow of Valhalla!’, Boy Commandos #7 (Summer 1944).

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

Bibliography

271

Simon, Joe and Jack Kirby, The Sandman, New York: DC Comics, 2009. Simundsson, Elva, Icelandic Settlers in America, Winnipeg: Queenston House Publishing, 1981. Singh, Baba, ‘Catharsis and the American God: Neil Gaiman’, in Darrell Schweitzer (ed.), The Neil Gaiman Reader, Rockville: Wildside Press, 2007, pp. 154–64. Sir Gawain and the Green Knight, ed. J. R. R. Tolkien and E. V. Gordon, rev. 2nd edn of Norman Davis, Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1967. Skaptadóttir, Unnur Dís and Kristín Loftsdóttir, ‘Cultivating culture?: images of Iceland, globalization and multicultural society’, in Sverrir Jakobsson (ed.), Images of the North: Histories – Identities – Ideas, Amsterdam and New York: Rodopi, 2009, pp. 205–16. Skelton, R. A., Thomas E. Marston, and George D. Painter, The Vinland Map and the Tartar Relation, 2nd edn, New Haven: Yale University Press, 1996. Smith, Anthony D., ‘The “Golden Age” and national renewal’, in Geoffrey A. Hosking and George Schöpflin (eds), Myths and Nationhood, London: Routledge, 1997, pp. 36–59. Smith, Brian, ‘Earl Henry Sinclair’s fictitious trip to America’, New Orkney Antiquarian Journal, 2 (2002), 3−18. Smith, David C., Studies in the Land: The Northeast Corner, London and New York: Routledge, 2002. Smith, David C. and Harold W. Borns, ‘Louis Agassiz, the Great Deluge, and early Maine geology’, Northeastern Naturalist, 7:2 (2000), 157–77. Smith, Linda Tuhiwai, Decolonizing Methodologies: Research and Indigenous Peoples, 2nd edn, London: Zed Books, 2012. Snook, Jennifer, American Heathens: The Politics of Identity in a Pagan Religious Movement, Philadelphia: Temple University Press, 2015. Snyder, Scott, Batman: Death of the Family, New York: DC Comics, 2012. Sommerville, Steinunn J., ‘Early Icelandic settlement in Canada’, Papers Read before the Historical and Scientific Society of Manitoba, 1 (1944−45), 25−43. Sorby, Angela, Schoolroom Poets, Durham: University of New Hampshire Press, 2005. Sparks, Jared, ‘Antiquities of North America’, American Monthly Magazine, XLVI (January 1836), 67. Stanley, Sir John Thomas, ‘An account of the hot springs in Iceland with an analysis of their waters’, Transactions of the Royal Society of Edinburgh, 3 (1794), 127−37. Stannard, David E., American Holocaust: The Conquest of the New World, Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1992. Starlin, Jim, Batman: A Death in the Family, DC Comics, 1988.

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

272

Bibliography

Stefánsson, Stefán, Iceland: A Handbook for Travellers, Reykjavík: Gutenberg, 1911. Stefánsson, Vilhjálmur [Vilhjalmar Stefansson], ‘Introduction’, in Matthías Þórðarson [Matthias Thordarson], The Vinland Voyages, New York: American Geographical Society, 1930, pp. i−xv. Stephens, Charles Asbury, Off to the Geysers, or, The Young Yachters in Iceland. As Recorded by ‘Wade’, The Camping Out series 3, Philadelphia, Chicago, Toronto: John C. Winston Co., 1873. Stevenson, Burton, Poems of American History, Boston: Houghton Mifflin, 1907. Stockton, Eric, ‘Thorstein Veblen as an Icelandic scholar’, Scandinavian Studies, 26:1 (February 1954), 1−11. Storm, Gustav, ‘Studier over Vinlandsreiserne, Vinlands Geografi og Ethnografi’, Aarbøger for Nordisk Oldkyndighed og Historie, 2:2 (1887), 293−372. Strand, A. E., A History of the Norwegians of Illinois, Chicago: J. Anderson Publishing Company, 1905. Sturleson, Snorro [Snorri Sturluson], The Heimskringla, or, Chronicle of the Kings of Norway, trans. Samuel Laing, 3 vols, London: Longman, Brown, Green and Longmans, 1844. Sturlason, Snorre [Snorri Sturluson], The Heimskringla; or the Sagas of the Norse Kings from Icelandic of Snorre Sturlason, trans. Samuel Laing, revised with notes by Rasmus B. Anderson, 4 vols, London: John C. Nimmo, 1889. Sturluson, Snorri, Edda: Prologue and Gylfaginning, ed. Anthony Faulkes, Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1982. Sturluson, Snorri, Edda, ed. and trans. Anthony Faulkes, London and Melbourne: Dent, 1987. Summerhill, Stephen J. and John Alexander Williams, Sinking Columbus: Contested History, Cultural Politics, and Mythmaking during the Quincentenary, Gainesville: University Press of Florida, 2000. Taylor, Bayard, Egypt and Iceland in the Year 1874, New York: G. P. Putnam’s Sons, 1874. Thompson, Carl, Travel Writing, London and New York: Routledge, 2011. Thomson, Keith Stewart, The Legacy of the Mastodon: The Golden Age of Fossils in America, New Haven: Yale University Press, 2008. Thor, Jonas, Icelanders in North America: The First Settlers, Winnipeg: University of Manitoba Press, 2002. Thurin, Erik Ingvar, The American Discovery of the Norse: An Episode in Nineteenth-Century American Literature, Lewisburg: Bucknell University Press, 1999. ‘To greet Norsemen’, Chicago Daily Tribune (13 July 1893), p. 1. ‘To hail the Vikings’, Chicago Daily Tribune (12 July 1893), p. 2. Tobiasson, Brynleifur, Þjóðhátíðin 1874, Reykjavík: Bókaútgáfa Menning­ arsjóðs og Þjóðvinafélagsins, 1958.

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

Bibliography

273

Tolkien, Christopher (ed.), Letters of J. R. R. Tolkien, London: Allen and Unwin, 1981. Turner, Frederick Jackson, The Frontier in American History, New York: H. Holt and Co., 1920. Turville-Petre, E. O. G., Myth and Religion of the North: The Religion of Ancient Scandinavia, London: Weidenfeld and Nicolson, 1964. ‘Vafþrúðnismál’, in Eddukvæði, ed. Jónas Kristjánsson and Vésteinn Ólason, 2 vols, Reykjavík: Hið íslenzka fornritafélag, 2014, vol. 1, pp. 356–66. van Hamel, A. G., ‘The prose frame of Lokasenna’, Neophilologus, 14:1 (1929), 204−14. Vatnsdæla saga, ed. Einar Ól. Sveinsson, Íslenzk fornrit VIII, Reykjavík: Hið íslenzka fornritafélag, 1939. Verne, Jules, Journey to the Centre of the Earth, trans. William Butcher, Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1992. ‘Viking is in port’, Chicago Daily Tribune (13 July 1893), p. 1. ‘Viking sailors ill treated’, New York Times (20 June 1893), p. 1. ‘Viking ship received by Racine’, Chicago Daily Tribune (12 July 1893), p. 2. ‘Viking tug disabled’, New York Times (30 June 1893), p. 3. ‘Vikingar i finkan’, Svensk Amerikanska Posten (27 June 1893), p. 1. Víkingsson, Viðar, ‘Snorri, Pocahontas og pólitísk rétthugsun’, Morgunblaðið (31 July 1997), p. 24. Vollmann, William T., The Ice-Shirt: Volume of Seven Dreams, A Book of North American Landscapes, New York: Penguin, 1990. von Schleinitz, Otto, Walter Crane, Bielefeld: Verlag von Velhagen & Klasing, 1902. von Schnurbein, Stefanie, Norse Revival: Transformations of Germanic Neopaganism, Leiden and Boston: Brill, 2016. von See, Klaus, Barbar Germane Arier. Die Suche nach der Identität der Deutschen, Heidelberg: Universitätsverlag Winter, 1994. von See, Klaus, Deutsche Germanen-Ideologie. Vom Humanismus bis zur Gegenwart, Frankfurt a.M.: Athenèaum-Verlag, 1970. von Troil, Uno, Letters on Iceland: containing observations on the civil, literary, ecclesiastical, and natural history; antiquities, volcanos, basaltes, hot springs, customs, dress, manners of the inhabitants, &c. &c., made, during a voyage undertaken in the year 1772, by Joseph Banks, assisted by Dr. Solander, Dr. J. Lind, Dr. Uno von Troil, and several other literary and ingenious gentlemen, London: printed for J. Robson, 1780. First published in Swedish in 1777. ‘W. S. C. Russell’, New England Craftsman, 14:1 (1918), 30. Wahlgren, Erik, The Kensington Stone: A Mystery Solved, Madison: University of Wisconsin Press, 1958. Wainer, Alex, Soul of the Dark Knight: Batman as Mythic Figure in Comics and Film, Jefferson: McFarland, 2014.

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

274

Bibliography

Wallace, Birgitta Linderoth, ‘Viking hoaxes’, in Eleanor Guralnick (ed.), Vikings in the West, Chicago: Archaeological Institute of America, 1982, pp. 53–76. Wallace, Birgitta Linderoth, ‘The Vikings in North America: myth and reality’, in Ross Samson (ed.), Social Approaches to Viking Studies, Glasgow: Glasgow University Press, 1991, pp. 207–19. Waller, Samuel E., Six Weeks in the Saddle: A Painter’s Journal, London: Macmillan and Co., 1874. Walsh, Kenneth, The Economic History of Newport, Rhode Island, Bloomington: AuthorHouse, 2014. Wanner, Kevin, ‘Sewn lips, propped jaws, and a silent Áss (or two): doing things with mouths in Norse myth’, JEGP: Journal of English and Germanic Philology, 111:1 (January 2012), 1−24. Watkins, F. L., By Whale Road to the World’s Fair, Urbana: Folump Enterprises, 2008. Wawn, Andrew (ed.), Northern Antiquity: The Post-Medieval Reception of Edda and Saga, Enfield Lock: Hislarik Press, 1994. Wawn, Andrew, The Vikings and the Victorians: Inventing the Old North in Nineteenth-Century Britain, Cambridge: D. S. Brewer, 2000. Wawn, Andrew, ‘Victorian Vínland’, in Andrew Wawn and Þórunn Sigurðardóttir (eds), Approaches to Vínland: A Conference on the Written and Archaeological Sources for the Norse Settlements in the North-Atlantic Region and Exploration of America, Reykjavík: Sigurður Nordal Institute, 2001, pp. 191–206. Weich, John, Storytelling on Steroids, Amsterdam: BIS Publishers, 2013. ‘A welcome to the Norsemen’, Chicago Daily Tribune (13 July 1893), p. 4. Weldon, Glen, The Caped Crusade: Batman and the Rise of Nerd Culture, New York: Simon & Schuster, 2017. Welles, Albert, The Pedigree and History of the Washington Family: Derived from Odin, the Founder of Scandinavia, B.C. 79, Involving a Period of Eighteen Centuries, and Including Fifty-five Generations, down to General George Washington, First President of the United States, New York: Society Library, 1879. Wilford, John Noble, The Mysterious History of Columbus: An Exploration of the Man, the Myth, the Legacy, New York: Vintage Books, 1992. Winning, W. B., Manual of Comparative Philology, London: J. G. & F. Rivington, 1838. Withey, Lynne, Urban Growth in Colonial Rhode Island, Albany: State University of New York Press, 1984. Wolf, Kirsten, ‘The recovery of Vínland in western Icelandic literature’, in Andrew Wawn and Þórunn Sigurðardóttir (eds), Approaches to Vínland: A Conference on the Written and Archaeological Sources for the Norse Settlements in the North-Atlantic Region and Exploration of America, Reykjavík: Sigurður Nordal Institute, 2001, pp. 207–19.

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

Bibliography

275

Wright, Bradford W., Comic Book Nation: The Transformation of Youth Culture in America, Baltimore and London: Johns Hopkins University Press, 2001. Wry, Joan R., ‘A sense of the material object: Sigourney’s fabric poems’, in M. L. Kete and Elizabeth Petrino (eds), Lydia Sigourney: Critical Essays and Cultural Views, Amherst: University of Massachusetts Press, 2018, pp. 48–66. Wynne Jones, Diana, Eight Days of Luke, London: Macmillan, 1975. Youngs, Tim, The Cambridge Introduction to Travel Writing, Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2013. Yzermans, Vincent A., ‘Our Lady of the Runestone’, The Marian Era, 5 (1964), 70−8, 106−7. Zernack, Julia, ‘Old Norse mythology and heroic legend in politics, ideology and propaganda’, in Margaret Clunies Ross (ed.), The Pre-Christian Religions of the North: Research and Reception, vol. 2: From c. 1830 to the Present, Turnhout: Brepols, 2018, pp. 465–84. Zinn, Howard, A People’s History of the United States: 1492–Present, New York: HarperPerennial, 2005. Þórðarson, Matthías [Matthias Thordarson], The Vinland Voyages, trans. Thorstina Jackson Walter, New York: American Geographical Society, 1930. Þórðarson, Matthías, Vínlandsferðirnar: Nokkrar athugasemdir og skýringar, Reykjavík: Prentsmiðjan Gutenberg, 1929. Internet sources ‘100: 1913−2013’, Ölgerðin Egill Skallagrímsson, http://100ara.olgerdin.is/. ‘A chorus of violence: Jack Donovan and the organizing power of male supremacy’, Southern Poverty Law Center (27 March 2017), www.spl​c​e​ n​ter.org/hatewatch/2017/03/27/c​h​o​r​u​s​-​v​i​o​l​e​nce​-​jack​-​d​o​n​o​v​a​n​-​a​n​d​-​o​r​g​ anizing-power-male-supremacy. Ackerman, Spencer, ‘Batman’s “Dark Knight” reflects Cheney policy’, Washington Independent (21 July 2008), http://washingtonindependent. com/509/batmans-dark-knight-reflects-cheney-policy. Adams, Barry, ‘The journey for the Norway building comes full circle’, Wisconsin State Journal (11 September 2017), https://madison. com/wsj/news/local/the-journey-for-the-norway-building-comes-fullcircle/. Aho, Gary, ‘Iceland on the brain: British travellers to Iceland from 1772 to 1897’, William Morris Archive, http://morrisedition.lib.uiowa.edu/Aho. IcelandonBrain.pdf. Anderson, Rasmus B., ‘Speech delivered by Rasmus B. Anderson, Milwaukee, WI, July 1893’, Wisconsin Historical Society: Wisconsin Local History & Biography Articles, www.wisconsinhistory.org/R​e​c​or​ ​ ds/Newspaper/BA14914.

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

276

Bibliography

‘Asatru Folk Assembly – announcing the Óðinshof pay off the Hof ­fundraiser’, Asatru Folk Assembly, www.runestone.org/announcing-theodinshof-pay-off-the-hof-fundraiser/. ‘Asatru Folk Assembly – declaration of purpose’, Asatru Folk Assembly, www.runestone.org/declaration-of-purpose/. ‘Asatru Folk Assembly – welcome home’, Asatru Folk Assembly, www. runestone.org. Astor, Dave, ‘Cartoonist who created the Joker discusses The Dark Knight’, Editor and Publisher (24 July 2008), www.editorandpublisher.com/news/ cartoonist-who-created-the-joker-discusses-the-dark-knight/. Astor, Maggie, Christina Caron, and Daniel Victor, ‘A guide to the Charlottesville aftermath’, New York Times (13 August 2017), www.nytimes.com/2017/08/13/us/charlottesville-virginia-overview.h​t​ m​l?action=click&module=RelatedCoverage&pgtype=Article®ion= Footer. ‘Available emblems of belief for placement on government headstones and markers’, U.S. Department of Veterans Affairs, www.cem.va.gov/hmm/ emblems.asp. Balfour, Ian, ‘Afterthoughts on the sublime and education; or “Teachable moments?”’, in J. Jennifer Jones (ed.), The Sublime and Education, Romantic Circles Praxis Series (August 2010), www.rc.umd.edu/praxis/ sublime_education/balfour/balfour.html. Brooks, Geoffrey, ‘The Danish Viking presence in South America, 1000–c.1250’, The Society for Nautical Research (30 November 2015), https://snr.org.uk/snr-forum/topic/t​h​e​-d ​ ​a​n​i​s​h​-v ​ ​i​k​i​n​g​-p ​ ​r​e​s​e​n​ce​ ​-​i​n​-​s​ou ​ ​t​ h​-america-1000-c-1250/. ‘Brutal Co collections: more’, Brutal Co, https://brutalco.myshopify.com/ collections/more?page=1. Caldwell, Christopher, ‘What the alt-right really means’, New York Times (2 December 2016), www.nytimes.com/2016/12/02/opinion/sunday/ what-the-alt-right-really-means.html. ‘Declaration 127’, Huginn’s Heathen Hof, www.declaration127.com. Delingpole, James, ‘This isn’t drama as most of us understand it: American Gods reviewed’, The Spectator (13 May 2017), www.specta​tor. co.uk/2017/05/this-isnt-drama-as-most-of-us-understand-it-americangods-reviewed/. DiBranco, Alex, ‘Mobilizing misogyny’, Public Eye (Winter 2017), 11–23, www.politicalresearch.org/wp-content/uploads/2017/03/PE_Winter20 17_DiBranco.pdf. Donovan, Jack ‘A time for wolves’, Jack Donovan (June 2014), www.jackdonovan.com/axis/2014/06/a-time-for-wolves/. Donovan, Jack, ‘About’, Jack Donovan, www.jack-donovan.com/axis. Donovan, Jack, ‘Books’, Jack Donovan, www.jack-donovan.com/axis/# books. Donovan, Jack, ‘Starttheworld’, Instagram, www.instagram.com/startthe world/.

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

Bibliography

277

Donovan, Jack, ‘Waldgang’, Jack Donovan (May 2017), www.jack-dono​ van.com/axis/2017/05/waldgang/. Donovan, Jack, ‘Why I am not a white nationalist’, Jack Donovan (May 2017), www.jack-donovan.com/axis/2017/05/w​h​y​-i​ ​-​a​m​-​n​ot​ ​-​​a​-​ white-nationalist/. ‘Else Christensen’, The Odinist Fellowship, http://odinistfellowship. com/?page_id=106. ‘The exhibition’, The Passionate Collector: Willard Fiske and his Libraries, http://rmc.library.cornell.edu/collector/. ‘The fiddle game’, Fandom, https://leverage.fandom.com/wiki/T​h​e​_​F​i​dd ​ ​ l​e_Game​. Foundas, Scott, ‘Cinematic faith: an interview with Christopher Nolan’, Film Comment Special Issue: Into the Night (The Dark Knight Rises) (28 November 2012), www.filmcomment.com/article/c​i​n​em ​ ​a​t​i​c​-​fa​ ​i​t​h​-​ c​h​r​is​ topher-nolan-scott-foundas/. Gaiman, Neil, ‘American Gods: An astonishing incomplete bibliography’, Neil Gaiman, www.neilgaiman.com/works/Books/American+Gods/i​n​/​ 183/. Guðmundsson, Hjörtur, ‘Obama’s wrong about Leif Erikson’, Washington Examiner (30 October 2015), www.washingtonexaminer.com/o​b​a​ma​ ​s​-​​ w​rong-about-leif-erikson. Gutierrez, Lisa, ‘Christopher Columbus has been in this St. Louis park for 130 years. Will he have to go?’, Kansas City Star (31 August 2018), www.kansascity.com/news/state/missouri/article217636400.html. Haggard, H. Rider, The Days of My Life: An Autobiography, ed. C. J. Longman, Adelaide: University of Adelaide Library, 2014, e-book, https://ebooks.adelaide.edu.au/h/haggard/h_rider/days/. ‘Hate on display™ hate symbols database’, Anti-Defamation League, www.adl.org/education-and-resources/resource-knowledge-base/h​a​t​e​-​ s​ymbols. ‘Heathens against hate’, Heathens Against Hate, www.heathensagainst.org. ‘Henry Jones, Sr.’, Wikipedia, https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/H​e​n​ry ​ ​_​J​o​n​e​ s​%2C_Sr. ‘High Rede’, The Troth, www.thetroth.org/about/leadership/rede.html. ‘Huginn’s Heathen Hof’, Huginn’s Heathen Hof, www.heathenhof. com. ‘Idunna’, The Troth, www.thetroth.org/publications/idunna.html. Illing, Sean, ‘The biggest lie we still teach in American history classes,’ Vox (20 November 2018), www.vox.com/conversations/2018/8/1/17602596/ american-history-james-loewen-howard-zinn. Johnson, Greg, ‘Greg Johnson interviews Paul Waggener’, CounterCurrents Publishing (3 February 2016), http://cdn.counter-currents. com/radio/PaulWaggener.mp3. Jolin, Dan, ‘The making of Heath Ledger’s Joker’, Empire Online (8 July 2012, last updated 10 September 2018), www.empireonline.com/ movies/features/heath-ledger-joker/.

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

278

Bibliography

Jones, William Sir, ‘The third anniversary discourse (delivered 2 February 1786 by the president at the Asiatick Society of Bengal)’, Electronic Library of Historiography (July 1999), http://www.eliohs.unifi.it/t​e​s​ti​ ​/​ 700/jones/Jones_Discourse_3.html. Kuruvilla, Carol, ‘San Francisco turns into Gotham City for Batkid’, New York Daily News (16 November 2013), www.nydailynews.com/news/ national/san-francisco-turns-gotham-city-batkid-article-1.1518454. Livingstone, Josephine, ‘Racism, medievalism, and the white supremacists of Charlottesville’, The New Republic (15 August 2017), https:// newrepublic.com/article/144320/r​a​c​is​ ​m​-​m​e​d​ie​ ​v​a​l​i​s​m-​ ​w​h​i​t​e​-s​ ​u​p​rema​c​i​ s​t​s​-c​ harlottesville. Lowenthal, Bennett, ‘The jumpers of ’29’, Washington Post (25 October 1987), www.washingtonpost.com/archive/opinions/1987/10/25/t​h​e​-j​ ​u​m​ p​ers-of-29/17defff9-f725–43b7. McNallen, Stephen, ‘What Stephen McNallen really thinks about race’, YouTube (3 March 2017), www.youtube.com/w​a​t​ch ​ ​?​v​=​e​w​Uu ​ ​N​O​636ag. McShee, Sean, ‘Pagan presence at the parliament of the world’s religions’, The Wild Hunt (14 November 2018), https://wildhunt.org/?s=Parliame nt+of+the+World’s+Religions. Mendryk, Harry, ‘Jack Kirby, fanboy’, Jack Kirby Museum (28 August 2009), https://kirbymuseum.org/blogs/simonandkirby/a​r​c​hi​ ​v​e​s​/​ 2198. ‘Neo-Völkisch’, Southern Poverty Law Center, www.splcenter.org/ fighting-hate/extremist-files/ideology/neo-volkisch. Newhouse, Sam, ‘Viking statue turned “flashpoint” between skinheads and Antifa toppled into Schuylkill River’, Metro (2 October 2018), www.metro.us/news/local-news/philadelphia/v​i​k​in ​ g​-​s​t​atue​-​antifa​-​s​k​i​n​ heads​-​f​l​ashpoint. ‘The nine noble virtues and charges of the Odinic Rite’, Odinic Rite, www. odinic-rite.org/main/t​h​e​-n ​ ​i​n​e​-​noble​-​v​ir​ ​t​u​e​s​-​an ​ ​d​-​charges​-​o​f​-​th ​ ​e​-​o​d​i​ni​ ​c​rite/. Nolan, Christopher and David S. Goyer, ‘Batman begins’, unpublished screenplay, 2005, www.nolanfans.com/batmanbegins/. ‘The Odinist’, The Odinist Fellowship, http://odinistfellowship.c​o​m​/?​ ​p​a​ g​e_id=17. ‘The Odinist movement’, The Odinist Fellowship, http://odinistfellowship. com/?page_id=34. Peron, Robert, ‘Viking and the Aztecs in MEXICO?’ (27 November 2016), https://rperon1017blog.wordpress.com/. Perry, David, ‘White supremacists love Vikings. But they’ve got history all wrong’, Washington Post (31 May 2017), www.washingtonpost.com/ posteverything/wp/2017/05/31/white-supremacists-love-vikings-but-t​h​ e​yve-got-history-all-wrong/?utm_term=.289f73638f5d. ‘Philly Antifa’, Philly Antifa, https://phillyantifa.org/page/5/. Pringle, Heather, ‘Evidence of Viking outpost found in Canada’, National Geographic (19 October 2012), https://news.nationalgeographic.com/

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

Bibliography

279

news/2012/10/121019-viking-outpost-second-new-canada-science-s​u​t​h​ erland/. Rosenberg, Yair, ‘“Jews will not replace us”: why white supremacists go after Jews’, Washington Post (14 August 2017), www.washingtonpost. com/news/acts-of-faith/wp/2017/08/14/jews-will-not-replace-us-whyw​h​ite-supremacists-go-after-jews/?utm_term=.d8b8ed378a1f. ‘Runestone Museum’, Explore Alexandria Minnesota, https://explorealex. com/dt_places/runestone-museum/. ‘Den store reisen’, Saga farmann: Bli med på en vikingreise Europa rundt, http://sagafarmann.no/den-store-reisen/. Seigfried, Karl E. H., ‘Worldwide Heathen Census 2013: results & analysis’, The Norse Mythology Blog (6 January 2014), www.norsemyth. org/2014/01/worldwide-heathen-census-2013-results.html. Sims, Chris, ‘The strange history of Jack Kirby’s three Thors’, Comics Alliance (6 May 2011), http://comicsalliance.com/j​a​c​k-​ ​k​i​r​b​y​s-​ ​t​hor​/?​t​r​a​ ckback=tsmclip. Strauss, Mark, ‘Discovery could rewrite history of Vikings in New World’, National Geographic (26 March 2016), https://news.nationalgeographic. c​o​m​/​2​016/03/160331-viking-discovery-north-america-canada-archaeo​l​ o​g​y​/​. ‘Ten years after it changed Hollywood, “The Dark Knight” is back in theaters. Accept no substitutes’, Los Angeles Times (22 August 2018), www.latimes.com/entertainment/movies/la-ca-mn-dark-knight-10th-a​n​ n​iversary-20180822-story.html. ‘Thor’s Oak Kindred – Ásatrú religion in Chicago’, Thor’s Oak Kindred, www.thorsoak.info. ‘The Troth’, The Troth, www.thetroth.org. ‘Troth Kindred program’, The Troth, www.thetroth.org/programs-o​f​f​er​ ​ed/ troth-kindred-program.html. Trueman, ‘Vikings in Paraguay – the Amambay / Guaira runes and more’, Abovetopsecret (28 October 2012), www.abovetopsecret.com/forum/ thread894216/pg1. Valdimarsdóttir, Þórunn, ‘Vikings in Mexico 998 AD?’, https://thorvald. is/?page_id=392. ‘Viking mythology grows as religion for inmates’, Fox News (24 July 2006, updated 13 January 2015), www.foxnews.com/story/2006/07/24/vikingmythology-grows-as-religion-for-inmates.html. ‘Vinland flag’, Anti-Defamation League, www.adl.org/education/referen ces/hate-symbols/vinland-flag. ‘Vinlanders Social Club’, Southern Poverty Law Center, www.splcenter. org/fighting-hate/extremist-files/group/vinlanders-social-club. ‘Voyage au centre de la Terre – 1864 / Journey to the Centre of the Earth – 1871’, Jules Verne (last updated 28 February 2019), www.julesverne.ca/ vernebooks/jvbkjourney.html. Waggener, Paul, ‘Digital’, Operation Werewolf, www.operationwerewolf. com/product-category/propaganda/digital/.

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

280

Bibliography

Waggener, Paul, ‘Operation Werewolf – Runes Pt. 1’, YouTube (25 May 2016), www.youtube.com/watch?v=-2TXpvy6x5k. Waggener, Paul, ‘What is Operation Werewolf?’, Operation Werewolf, www.operationwerewolf.com. Wallace, Eric, ‘ECO PUNKS: the Wolves of Vinland badasses dare you to re-wild yourself’, Blue Ridge Outdoors Magazine (5 May 2015), https:// web.archive.org/web/20151119022642/http://www.blueridgeoutdoors. com/go-outside/eco-punks-the-wolves-of-vinland-badasses-dare-youto-re-wild-yourself/. Wallace-Wells, Benjamin, ‘Is the alt-right for real?’, New Yorker (5 May 2016), www.newyorker.com/news/benjamin-wallace-wells/is-the-alt-r​i​ ght-for-real. Wasik, John and Kathleen Wasik, ‘Why the Dark Knight haunts us’, Daily Wombat (12 August 2008), http://dailywombat.blogspot.com/2008/08/ why-dark-knight-haunts-us.html. ‘Weird Comics: Fox, 1940 Series’, The Grand Comics Database (GCD), https://www.comics.org/series/175/. Wilson, Jason, ‘Suspect in Portland double murder posted white supremacist material online’, Guardian (28 May 2017), www.theguardian.com/ us-news/2017/may/27/portland-double-​m​u​rd ​ ​e​r​-​w​h​it​ ​e​-​supremacist​-​m​u​ slim​-​hate-speech. Winters, Clyde, ‘Pre-Columbian murals and Norse sagas suggest Vikings met the Aztecs, and the outcome was not pretty’, Ancient Origins: Reconstructing the Origins of Humanity’s Past (27 November 2016), h​t​t​p​s:// www.ancient-origins.net/history/pre-columbian-murals-a​n​d​-n ​ ​o​r​se-saga s-suggest-vikings-met-aztecs-and-outcome-was-not-pretty-021084. Woodruff, Betsy,‘Inside Virginia’s church-burning werewolf white supremacist cult’, The Daily Beast (11 November 2015), www.thedaily beast.com/inside-virginias-church-burning-werewolf-white-supremacistcult. ‘Word fame – Stephen A. McNallen’, The Odinist Fellowship, http://odi​ nistfellowship.com/?page_id=127. ‘ZOG’, Anti-Defamation League, www.adl.org/education/references/h​a​t​e-​ symbols/zog. Films and albums American Gods, TV series, prod. FremantleMedia North America, USA: Lionsgate Television, 2017. The American Templars, film, dir. Michael Carr, USA: American Templars Productions, 2013. Batman, film, dir. Tim Burton, USA: Warner Brothers, 1989. Joy Division, ‘Shadowplay’, Unknown Pleasures, album, Manchester: Factory Records, 1979.

Bibliography

281

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

Joy Division, ‘Heart and Soul’, Closer, album, Manchester: Factory Records, 1980. The Viking, film, dir. Roy William Neill, USA: Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer Pictures, 1928. When Do You Commit Suicide?, film, dir. Manuel Romero, USA: Paramount Pictures, 1932.

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

Index

Note: This index contains references to real people, Old Norse saga characters and a few fictional characters of post-medieval works. Saga characters and royalty are listed under their given names, others are listed under surnames. The index also contains references to a places, events and concepts that are important for the general topic of the book, as well as titles of anonymous medieval works, television series and movies. Adam of Bremen 5, 64 Adams, Douglas 237 Adams, Peter 235n.88 Agassiz, Louis 140 Alter, Stephen 28 American Civil War 52, 137, 182, 191 American Revolutionary War; American War of Independence 49–50, 149 American Templars, The (film) 54–5 Andersen, Magnus 104–7, 109 Anderson, Philip 227 Anderson, Rasmus B. 16, 48, 103–4, 114–17, 122, 124–33, 134n.6, 138, 147 Andrews, Roy Chapman, 38 Arnarson, Ingolf ix, 149, 172, 178n.52 Arnold, Benedict 49–50, 59n.24 Asatru; Ásatrú 83–91, 95n.37, 97n.76 Asbjørnsen, Sigvald 117–18 Asgard 168, 198, 206, 221, 226 Atlantis 54, 64 Aztecs 8–9, 21n.27, 245 Bacon, Francis 220 Balder 168, 221–9, 244–5, 247; see also Shadow Bancroft, Hubert Howe 110 Banks, Edgar James 38

Baring-Gould, Sabine 145–6, 158n.32 Barnes, Geraldine 68, 181–2 Barton, Benjamin Smith 183 Basso, Keith 102, 109, 115, 118 Batman (film) 218 Batman Begins (film) 221 Batman; Bruce Wayne 215–30 Beach, Samuel Bellamy 182–6, 190, 194–5, 196n.7 Beamish, North Ludlow 131, 138, 147 Bear, Greg 28 Bierstadt, Albert 36 Bjarni Herjolfsson 192–4 Bjørnson, Bjørnstjerne 127 Black Pirate, The (film) 45 Boccaccio, Giovanni 71 Book of Settlements; Landnámabók 167, 183 Bragason, Úlfar 128 Brie, Steve 216 Brody, David S. 54–5 Brokeback Mountain (film) 219 Brown, Dan 54, 56 Browne, John Ross 139, 142–5, 147, 156n.16, 158n.33 Bull, Ole 127 Burkhalter, Harris 15 Burne-Jones, Edward 53 Burroughs, Edgar Rice 28, 200

Index

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

Bursten, Martin A. 205, 211 Burton, Richard 3–4 Burton, Tim 218 Byrien, Olaf 7 Calder, Alexander 172 Cameron, Don 208, 211 Carlyle, Thomas 123, 125, 129 Carr, Michael 54 Carroll, Lewis 220 Catholicism Church 54–5, 57, 71 faith 17, 51, 61, 64, 74n.9, 125, 129 identity 15, 48–9, 105–6 Cazeneuve, Louis 208, 211 Centennial Exposition (1876) 128, 138, 182, 193 Chang, David A. 62 Chapman, George 37 Chaucer, Geoffrey 71 Chisholm, James 90, 97n.76 Christensen, Else 84–6 Christian IX, King of Denmark 142 Christian, Jeremy Joseph 77 Christman, Bert 206 Cnut the Great, King of Denmark and England 171 Coatsworth, Elizabeth 14 Cocksworth, Ashley 228 Codex Flateyensis see Flateyjarbók Collingwood, W. G. 31, 35 Columbus, Christopher 14, 16–18, 45, 47–8, 50, 53, 61–73, 103–6, 108–9, 125, 128–9, 131–2, 147, 155n.5, 158n.39, 168, 171–2, 177n.50, 193 Coolidge, Calvin 132 Cooper, James Fenimore 52 Copernicus, Nicolaus 63 Cortez, Hernán 37 Crane, Walter 53 Crisp, Donald 45 Da Vinci, Leonardo 217 Dark Knight, The (film) 215–24, 226, 229–30 Dasent, George Webbe 11, 124 De Costa, Benjamin Franklin 129–30 De las Casas, Bartolomé 61 De Mahieu, Jacques 9–11, 19 DeAnna, Kevin 80

283 Dee, John 51, 59n.24 Delingpole, James 248 Desilet, Gregory 225 DiBranco, Alex 82 Dighton Rock, Massachusetts 51, 181 Donenfeld, Harry 198, 201, 206, 211 Donovan, Jack 80–2, 86, 91–2 Dorson, Richard 236 Douglass, Frederick 101 Doyle, Arthur Conan 28, 37–8 Duff, Charles 64–5 Dumézil, Georges 224, 228 Dynamite Thor; Peter Thor 204–5 Dynamo; Jim Andrews 205 Eckhart, Aaron 219 Eco, Umberto 216 Egede, Hans 7 Egil Skallagrimsson 14, 146 Egils saga see Saga of Egil, The Eirik the Red 17, 46–7, 72, 89, 103, 148, 166, 169, 192, 242 Eirik the Red’s Saga see Vinland sagas Eiríks saga rauða see Vinland sagas Eisner, Will 200–1 Eliot, T. S. 241 Elizabeth I, Queen of England 51 Emerson, Ralph Waldo 123, 190, 197n.34 Enterline, James Robert 67 Eskimo see Inuit Euripides 220 Eyrbyggja saga see Saga of the People of Eyri, The Fairbanks, Douglas 45 Fall River, Massachusetts 16, 51–2, 186–7 Farrell, Robert W. 198, 201, 203, 211 Finger, Bill 217 Finnbogason, Guðmundur 164, 174n.9 First Nations see Indigenous Americans First World War see World War I Fiske, Daniel Willard 35–7, 39, 140 Flateyjarbók; Codex Flateyensis 104, 130–1 Flavel, Matthew 87 Flowers, Stephen; Edred Thorsson 89–90, 97n.76

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

284 Folgerø, Gerhard 132–3 Forbidden Planet (film) 29, 42n.13 Foster, Hal 200, 205, 207 Foucault, Michel 63 Fox, Gardner 206 Fox, Victor 198, 201, 203, 211 Frederick IV, King of Denmark 50 Frey 53, 208 Freyja 89, 243 Frigg 89, 221–2, 224 Frølich, Lorenz 128 Gaiman, Neil 236–49 Galilei, Galileo 63 Garcia, Lorenzo 220 Gardell, Mattias 83–6 Gautrek’s Saga; Gautreks saga 246 Gellisson, Thorkel 5 Genette, Gérard 122, 126, 131, 133 Gladstone, William Ewart 156n.17 Gladstone, William H. 156n.17 Gnupsson, Eirik 5 Goebbels, Joseph 11 Goethe, Johann Wolfgang 186 Gokstad ship 104, 125, 130 Goodman, Martin 198, 205 Goodnow, Trischa 199, 203–4 Gordon, James 221, 223–4 Gray, Thomas 3, 11 Grettis saga see Saga of Grettir, The Grímsson, Ólafur Ragnar 173 Griswold, Rufus 196n.7 Grænlendinga saga; Saga of the Greenlanders see Vinland sagas Gröndal, Benedikt Sveinbjarnarson 164, 169 Grosby, Steven 161 Gudrid Thorbjarnardottir 16–17, 53, 115 Gunnlaugsson, Gudleif 8 Guttormsson, Guttormur J. 170 Haggard, H. Rider 34–6, 38–9 Harald Bluetooth, King of Denmark and Norway 9, 16 Harald Fairhair, King of Norway 127, 129, 184 Harrison, Carter Henry 102, 106–7 Hart, Jeffrey 61 Hastrup, Kirsten 161 Haugen, Einar 224, 228

Index ‘Hávamál’ see ‘Sayings of the High One, The’ Headley, Phineas Camp 141–7, 149–50, 158n.32 Heaney, Seamus 242 Heimdall 208, 227, 229 Hel 224–5, 229 Helluland 4–5, 194 Hemming, Lindsay 220 Hemsworth, Chris 198 Henderson, Ebenezer 3 Hermansson, Halldór 32, 40n.4 Heyerdahl, Thor 11, 21n.26 Higgins, Andrew 186 Hinds, Ernest Jasper 56 Hitler, Adolf 85, 199, 203, 205, 209–11, 214n.37 Hobsbawm, Eric 193 Hod 222, 224, 244 Hoffman, Alice E. 115 Hogle, Jerrold E. 182 Holand, Hjalmar 13–15, 18 Holland, Henry 3, 31 Honoré, Pierre 67–8 Horsford, Eben Norton 16–17, 23n.47, 53–4, 59n.30 Horsman, Reginald 185 Howell, Frederick 36 Hrafnkels saga see Saga of Hrafnkel Frey’s Godi, The Hrolf Ox-Thorisson, founder of Normandy 16 Hunter, Douglas 51, 181 Hutchinson, Anne 49 Hyde, Lewis 228 Icelandic Annals, The 5–6 Indians; see Indigenous Americans Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade (film) 38 Indigenous Americans; Indians; First Nations 4–11, 13–14, 17, 23n.47, 46, 48–53, 55, 58n.15, 61–73, 111, 139, 149, 173, 175n.18, 181–6, 189–90, 193, 195, 215; see also skrælings Ingimund Thorsteinsson 243 Ingstad, Anne Stine 5, 61 Ingstad, Helge 4, 19n.3, 61 Inuit 5, 7–8, 67, 75n.25

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

Index Jakobsson, Ármann 224 Jakobsson, Sverrir 164 Jacquel; Anubis 237–8, 247 Jefferson, Thomas 149, 183, 185, 191 Johnson, Greg 82, 93n.24 Johnson, Lyndon B. 132 Joker, The 215–30 Jones, Diana Wynne 237 Jones, Henry 38–9 Jones, Indiana 38, 54 Jones, William 33 Jónsson, Einar 78, 166, 172 Jónsson, Runólfur 32 Judy, Jon 205 Jung, Carl Gustav 85–6, 96n.51 Jünger, Ernst 81 Kalevala 190 Kalmus, Herbert T. 45 Kalmus, Natalie 45 Kane, Bob 217 Karlsson, Gunnar 160 Katsion, John R. 208 Kavadlo, Jesse 221 Keats, John 37, 56 Keillor, Garrison 66 Kensington Runestone, Minnesota 13–15, 19, 48–9, 66, 57n.12 Kerkering, Jack 191 Kimble, James J. 199, 203 Kipling, Rudyard 175n.21 Kirby, Jack 198–9, 205–11, 212n.23, 213n.27, 214n.42 Knaplund, Paul 127 Kneeland, Samuel 140–4, 147–50, 158n.42 Knutson, Paul 13–14 Kolodny, Annette 74n.3, 181 Krauthammer, Charles 61 Krohg, Christian 110 L’Anse aux Meadows, Newfoundland 4–5, 8, 19n.3, 61, 64–5, 67, 74n.3, 132 Laing, Samuel 18, 124, 128–9 Landnámabók see Book of Settlements Lanier, Sidney 182, 191–5 Ledger, Heath 218–19, 226, 228 Lee, Robert E. 78

285 Lee, Stan 198, 206, 213n.27 Leif Eiriksson xii, xiv, 6, 9, 15–18, 45–9, 53, 56n.3, 62, 70, 73, 101, 104–6, 110–11, 115, 118, 123–6, 130–33, 138, 147–8, 150, 160, 163, 165, 169–74, 192–4, 242 statue of 66, 103, 117–18 Leif Erikson Day 18–19, 77–8, 89, 114, 128, 132, 173 Leoussi, Athena S. 161 Leuthner, Margaret 14 Lidenbrock, Otto 27–8, 32–3, 35–7, 39 Lieber, Larry 198 Liebowitz, Jack 198, 201, 206, 211 Liljencrantz, Ottilie A. 46–8 Lincoln, Wright 199, 205, 211 Lindow, John 217, 225, 229 Loewen, James L. 62, 69–72, 76n.38, 76n.46 Loki 215, 221–30, 238, 241, 244, 246–7 Longfellow, Henry Wadsworth 16, 52–3, 123, 155n.12, 182, 186–8, 190–1, 194–5 Lützeler, Paul 186 Lyell, Charles 28, 30–1 Mabie, Hamilton Wright 206–7 McGovern, William Montgomery 38 Mackenzie, George 3 McKinnell, John 228 McNallen, Stephen 83, 86–9, 96n.57 McShane, Ian 248 Magnus IV, King of Sweden 13 Magnússon, Eirikur 156n.17 Magnússon, Finnur 7, 51 Maloney, Marcus 220, 224 Mancini, J. M. 48 Markland 4–6, 194 Mary Magdalene 55 Matthews, David 46 Maurer, Konrad 161, 172 Melton, Zachary J. 124 Melville, Herman 123 Miles, Pliny 137–9, 141–4, 147, 149 Mill, John Stuart 68 Miller, Frank 220 Mills, Alexander Rud 84 Mimir 238–9 Mjolnir; Thor’s hammer 85, 95n.37, 201–2, 206–8, 210

286

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

Morris, William 3, 11, 33, 35, 53 Morrison, Grant 229 Murray, James A. H. 29, 38 Musmanno, Michael A. 65, 74n.15 Mussolini, Benito 123 Napier, Arthur 38 Native Americans see Indigenous Americans Nazis; Nazism 10–11, 38, 77–8, 85, 123, 199, 203, 208–11, 213n.35 Neill, Roy William 45 Neo-Nazi 78, 96n.57 Neo-Paganism 77, 79, 81–83, 90, 95n.36 neo-völkish see Völkish Newport tower, Rhode Island 12, 18, 46, 49–56, 59n.24, 181–2, 186–90, 193, 195 Nicholson, Jack 218 Njal’s Saga; Njals Saga 35, 146 Nolan, Christopher 218, 220, 226 Nolan, Jonathan 215, 220, 226 Nordal, Sigurður 162–5 Norse-American Centennial 131–2 Norse Gods; Æsir; Vanir 83, 89, 199, 207–11, 221, 223–4, 226–9, 236–8, 240–9 Norwegian-Americans 113, 115, 122–33 identity 15, 106 settlements 13–14 O’Neil, Dennis 216–19 Obama, Barack 173 Oddsson, Gísli 7 Odin; Woden 9, 16, 27, 32–3, 53, 89, 96n.51 132, 184, 201, 207–11, 221, 224–5, 229–30, 236–47; see also Wednesday, Mr Odinism 83–6, 90 Ohman, Olof 13, 15 Olaf Haraldsson, King of Norway; St Olaf 8 Oslund, Karen 30 Oswald, Elizabeth Jane 156n.16 Palmer, Brad 205 Palmer, Potter 103, 108–9, 113 Percy, Thomas 3, 11, 124

Index Pistilli, Vicente 9–11 Pizarro, Francisco 10 Pjetursson, Hafsteinn 170 Plato 64 Pocahontas 173 Poe, Edgar Allan 123 Pollard, Josephine 115 Pound, Ezra 36 Powell, F. York 38 Protestantism 15, 17, 48, 64, 74n.9, 105, 122–3, 125, 170, 172 Pyle, Howard 47 Quetzlcoatl 8, 10 Quincentenary of Columbus’s landing (1992) 17, 61, 65–6 Quinn, Judy 224, 226, 228–9 racism 4, 11, 17, 47, 51, 77, 79, 83–7, 90–1, 140, 149, 164, 172, 185–6, 210; see also white supremacy racial supremacy see white supremacy Rafn, Carl Christian xiii, 12, 18, 50–2, 123, 138, 147, 181–2, 186–8, 193–4 Rask, Rasmus Christian 50 Reeves, Arthur Middleton 129–31 Repp, Thorleifur 32–3 Reynolds, Richard 216 Rhys, John 38 Rink, Henrich 8 Robin; Jason Todd 218, 220, 222 Robinson, Jerry 217 Ruskin, John 31 Russell, W. S. C. 141, 143, 146–7, 156n.16 Saga of Egil, The; Egils saga 146 Saga of Grettir, The; Grettis saga 145–6, 157n.28 Saga of Hrafnkel Frey’s Godi, The; Hrafnkels saga 146–7 Saga of the Greenlanders, The; see Vinland sagas Saga of the People of Eyri, The; Eyrbyggja saga 8–9 Saga of the People of Laxardal, The; Laxdæla saga 130, 135n.31 Saga of the People of Vatnsdal, The; Vatnsdæla saga 146–7, 243 Said, Edward 63

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

Index Sale, Kirkpatrick 65–6 Salverson, Laura Goodman 14 Samaniego, Marcial 10 Sanctuary (TV series) 28 Santa Claus 208 ‘Sayings of the High One, The’; ‘Hávamál’ 82, 84, 94n.29, 240, 242 Scandinavians 15, 18, 47–8, 61–2, 105, 111, 124–9, 163–6, 241–2 emigration; immigration 12, 101, 122–3, 133, 170–1 Scandinavian-Americans 66, 77, 113–15, 131 Schleicher, August 28 Scott, Cord A. 210 Scott, Walter 32, 147, 183 Second World War see World War II Seigfried, Karl 90 Shadow 237–42, 244–48; see also Balder Shakespeare, William 36, 215 Shipley, John 17–19 Shipley, Marie 17–19 Shuster, Joe 200, 204 Siegel, Jerry 200, 204 Sigourney, Lydia 181–2, 188–91, 194–5 Silence of the Lambs, The (film) 220 Simon, Joe 198–9, 205–11, 212n.23, 213n.27, 214n.42 Sims, Chris 207, 213n.35 Sinclair, Henry 55 Sir Gawain and the Green Knight 238 skrælings; skrælingjar 7, 68, 72, 164–5, 170, 242, 246; see also Indigenous Americans Smith, Charles Hamilton 140 Smith, Linda Tuhiwai 63–4 Snook, Jennifer 88–9 Snorri Thorfinsson 16, 53, 171, 173 Snyder, Scott 220 Sommerville, Steinunn J. 168 Spencer, Richard B. 79, 93n.24 Stanley, Henry 29 Stannard, David E. 69 Starke, Pauline 45 Steele, Peter 77 Stefánsson, Jón 31 Stefánsson, Vilhjálmur 166–7 Stephens, Charles Asbury 139–40, 143, 145, 157n.31

287 Stevenson, Burton 194 Stevenson, Robert Louis 217 Storm, Gustav 22n.33, 130 Stroessner, Alfredo 10 Sturluson, Snorri 27, 40n.4, 123–4, 128–31, 146, 202, 206–7, 238–9, 244 Heimskringla 18 Prose Edda; Snorri’s Edda 209–10 Ynglinga saga 84 Suicide Squad (film) 220 Summerhill, Stephen J. 66 Superman 200–1, 204 Svein II, King of Denmark 5 Swart, Claudius Claussøn 6–7 Taylor, Bayard 33–6, 39, 40n.4, 140, 142–3, 147–8, 150, 155n.11, 155n.12, 158n.41, 158n.42 Taylor, Jared 93n.24 Tennyson, Alfred 36 Thor 9, 53, 89, 132, 198–9, 201–11, 227, 229, 240 Thor’s hammer see Mjölnir Thorfinn Karlsefni Thordarson 16, 53, 78, 147–8, 165–6, 172 Thoreau, Henry David 123, 129 Thorgilsson, Ari 5 Thorvald Eiriksson 16, 68, 72 Tolkien, J. R. R. 29 Toll of the Sea (film) 45 Touro, Judah 50 Turner, William 36 Turner, Frederick Jackson 112 Twain, Mark 40n.2, 47 Tyr 89 Ulfljot 149 Ullman of Schleswig 9–10 Uncle Sam 170–1 Van Hamel, Anton Gerard 229 Vanir see Norse Gods Vatnsdæla saga see Saga of the People of Vatnsdal Veblen, Thorstein 130, 135n.31 Verne, Jules 27–9, 32–7, 39, 41n.6 Viking (ship) 101–15, 125, 130 Viking, The (film) 45–7, 49, 56n.3

Index

Downloaded from manchesterhive © Copyright protected It is illegal to copy or distribute this document

288 Vinland xii–xiv, 4–19, 20n.6, 47–8, 51–2, 77–9, 91, 101–2, 113–15, 117–18, 122, 128, 148, 160–6, 169–73, 174n.9, 187, 193–5, 242–3 Vinland sagas, The; Eiríks saga rauða; Erik the Red’s Saga; Grænlendinga saga; Saga of the Greenlanders 6, 12, 16, 45, 61–2, 64, 67–73, 103–4, 123–5, 129–31,138, 147, 150, 154, 168 Völkish; neo-völkish 79, 83–4, 87, 92n.11 Vollman, William T. 215 Von Oven, Wilfred 11 Von Schnurbein, Stefanie 84, 86, 89 Waggener, Paul; Matthias 80–2, 86, 91–2 Wallace-Wells, Benjamin 82 Wanner, Kevin 226–7 Washington, George 16, 18, 193 Wasik, Kathleen 229 Wawn, Andrew 12, 29, 32 Wednesday, Mr 236–48; see also Odin Weich, John 219 Weldon, Glenn 218 Welles, Albert 15–16 Western Icelanders 161, 167–8, 169–70, 173 When Do You Commit Suicide? (film) 240 white supremacy; racial supremacy 19, 77–9, 81–2, 85, 87, 90–1, 93n.24, 95n.46, 188, 249; see also racism Whittier, John Greenleaf 194 Wilde, Oscar 160

Wilford, John Noble 65 William the Conqueror 171 Williams, John Alexander 66 Williams, Roger 49 Williams, William 196n.7 Wizard of Oz, The (film) 45 Woden see Odin Wolf, Kirsten 168–9 Wolfe, Catherine Lorillard 52 Wolves of Vinland 79–80, 82–4, 91 Wonder Man 200–1, 204–5 Wong, Anna Mae 45 Wordsworth, William 31, 37 World War I; First World War 137 World War II; Second World War 11, 85, 198, 203, 207–11, 214n.37 World’s Fair Chicago (1893) 47, 101–18, 125, 128, 130–1, 133 New York (1965) 14 Wright, Bradford W. 200 Wright, George 206–7 Wright, Joseph 38 Wrigley Jr, William 110 Wry, Joan 188 Yen, Li 64 Youngs, Tim 154 Zinn, Howard 69 Zoëga, Geir 143, 157n.20 Þórðarson, Matthías 66, 165 Ægir 226–30 Æsir see Norse Gods