"The main food of the common people in our country"

Flatbrød (literally "flat-bread") is rightly considered the Norwegian national bread. In his book, "Common sense cooking" (1864), Norwegian scholar Peter Christen Asbjørnsen writes that barley and oats are best used for flat bread and lefse - "the main food of the common people in our country."

Flatbread baked at Dølmotunet, 2016.
Photo: Anno Musea i Nord-Østerdal.

In older writings it is made known that the bread was very different for rich and poor, servant and master. In the Poetic Edda, the Norse god Heimdall, under the name Rig, wandered around, visiting people from different walks of life. First he came to the house of the thrall (slave). According to old custom, food was served to the stranger, yet the bread was "heavy and dense and full of seeds." On the peasant's farm however, the conditions were better. Finally he entered the nobleman's house and was well received, for"the mother found a patterned tablecloth of the finest linen and laid it on the table. Then she put pieces of bread on the tablecloth - thin, white loaves."

Right up to our time, it has been flat bread that people have had in mind when they spoke of bread. Fermented bread was usually called kaku or stump. One of the great advantages of flatbread was - and is - that it can be stored for decades if necessary, without any special kind of storage method. As long as the grain was grown in modest quantities, and the grinding took place with a hand grinder, it was inadvisable to make large portions at a time. But as time went on, the fields grew, watermills and later on village mills replaced the hand mills, grain and flour stocks became larger both on the farms and at the local merchant's. Around 1500 people were able to bake such large portions that they had enough flatbread on the farm for several months. Some made so much that they had a supply which lasted the whole year, but it was most common to bake twice a year - in spring and autumn. Then the work lasted for several days, up to weeks, at a time, and the young and elderly alike helped out. There had to be plenty of flatbread, because it was served at every meal throughout the day, especially before the potato came into use. There was considered a great embarrasment if flatbread was scarce over a longer period of time.

In some places it was custom for neighbors to get together to help each other out with the baking. They called it to "bake på donna" (communal work; dugnad in Norwegian). The men came driving with their wives, baking trays, baking tables and other utensils stored on the horse cart. With time, "bakstkuller" (baking-wives) emerged, walking from farm to farm baking for payment. The man on the farm made sure that dry and finely split firewood was available at all times. Perhaps he also kneaded the dough, but the baking itself was considered women's work.

The custom of "bake på donna" (communal baking) has probably also been in use in some places in Sweden. In one of his pictures, the famous painter Anders Zorn has depicted such a day when women from Dalarna have come together to help. The painting is called Tunnbrødbak (1889).

The baking in spring was to be done between spring labor in april and Midsummer in June; in autumn when the slaughter was finished, but before preparations were initiated for Christmas. The workday started at 4 o'clock in the morning, and it is stated that a good baker should be able to make 40 loaves per hour. In the midst of the struggle, however, there was also time for moments of enjoyment. Both children and adults stopped by to have a look. Housewives perhaps with a little freshly churned butter or a little sour cream so they could make "kjinnabete" (flat bread smeared with sour cream or freshly churned butter). If coffee was served, it was a big treat. In the evening, they often made lefse or primlefse. One had to take good care of the baking wife so she would come back.

Flatbread being carried to the storehouse. 
Photo: Anno Musea i Nord-Østerdal. Date: unknown

When the pile of loaves was large enough, it was carried to the storehouse, and there could be stacked many such piles in a row. The ideal situation was to have more flatbread than needed between each baking. You never knew what the corn harvest would be like next year, so for the housewife it gave extra security to know that she had such a food reserve on the farm. While the shelf life of flour was limited, flatbread could last for years, and thus also became a form of flour storage.

Anyone who had flatbread, milk, cured meats, herring and potatoes, grain and flour was well supplied with food.

Flatbread piled at the storehouse. 
Photo: The Norwegian Museum of Cultural History. Date: unkown

Do you wish to make your own flatbread? 😋

INGREDIENTS

• 1 1/3 cup whole wheat flour

• 1 1/3 cup all purpose flour

• 1 teaspoon baking soda

• 1/2 teaspoon salt

• 1/4 cup vegetable oil

• 3/4 cup buttermilk, room temperature

INSTRUCTIONS

• In a large mixing bowl, sift together flours, baking soda, and salt. Add vegetable oil and mix well.

• Add buttermilk. Knead dough for a minute or so on a well-floured surface.

• Preheat oven to 350F. Cover dough with a damp paper towel when not using. Take approximately 1/4 cup of dough, roll it into a ball, and proceed to roll it out with a rolling pin on a floured counter top until very thin and crispy, like a cracker. Place rounds onto a cookie sheet. Bake for 10 to 12 minutes, until flatbread is lightly browned and crisp.

With its strong historical roots, flatbread is well suited to serve with traditional Norwegian dishes such as cured meats and rakfisk, fårikål (mutton and cabbage), soups and stews.

Recipe from https://www.cheaprecipeblog.com/

Sources:

• Norsk mat: Tradisjoner og gamle matretter. Landbruksforlaget, 1992

"They ride from farm to farm on broomsticks..."

The old Norwegian laws and Christian courts had detailed prohibitions against all kinds of witchcraft, and severe punishments were imposed on the accused. Danish-Norwegian legislation maintained this legal tradition both before and after the Reformation. King Christian 2's ecclesiastical law ordered the authorities, especially on Maundy Thursday and Walpurgis Night, to keep an eye on everyone who was suspected of witchcraft. As recently as king Christian 5's Norwegian law of 1687, it is stated that any sorcerer or sorceress who demonstrably "has forsaken God and his holy baptism and Christianity, and devoted himself to the devil, should be thrown alive on the fire and burn."

📷 Norwegian Museum of
Cultural History

Central to the witch's belief, as we know it from its medieval depictions, was the notion that the witches at certain times of the year (Christmas, Easter, Midsummer's Eve) sat on their broomsticks, ladles or troughs and went off through the air to feast with the devil, on certain gathering places - Blocksberg in Germany, Blåkulla in Sweden, Lyderhorn in Norway or Hekla in Iceland - where they danced and performed all the abominations that a tarnished imagination could think up.

The oral tradition is naturally far more restrained than the court records in detailing these orgies; it was more concerned with what one could do to protect oneself from the devilry. By placing steel over doors, in beds, barns and stables, a set of safe havens were unsured, keeping the witches at bay. The same was true of crosses, heat and magical formulas as well as the broomstick, the witches' own means of transportation. If the witch did not find a broomstick to ride on, she took a horse or a cow instead, which was much worse. Norwegian sociologist Eilert Sundt thought this was the explanation for the widespread village custom of putting one or more broomsticks outside the kitchen or barn door on Christmas Eve and Maundy Thursday for use by the witches.

The ordinary broomstick was given a very special power of protection, and was used in several ways. Eilert Sundt has pointed out that it was common to put a broomstick in front of the hallway door, so that people could dry their shoes on it before entering the house. Admittedly, spruce bushes and the like could also do the trick, but according the old beliefs it should preferably be a broom; over which neither sorcerers nor any other evil could ascend. According to folklore, the power of broomsticks could also protect people and animals against another side of the witches' activities; their dangerous ability to affect the weather, and provoke gusts and storms. Against such "magic weather", three broomsticks were placed crosswise on a fire, and burned on a Sunday. The magic power in the north wind crumbled when a burning broomstick was thrown into the sea.

Well into the 20th century, the Easter "blow" was a widespread rural tradition in southeastern Norway, basically constituting loose shots fired into the air with pistols and shotguns or gunpowder set on fire. The intention was partly to initiate the holy feast, as the costums were during major church holidays, partly to clean the air of devilry and "shoot the Easter hag". "You shoot on Easter evening to spare the farm from witchcraft. It is this evening that the witches ride from farm to farm broomsticks", it was said in Høland, as late as in 1914. Better remedy for sorcery than gunpowder, bullets and gunshots was yet to be found.

Carl Spitzweg, The witches ride, 1875

 Sources:

• Hodne, Ørnulf (1988) Påske: tradisjoner omkring en høytid, Grøndahl & Søn Forlag

The Twelve Wild Ducks

Looking at the old folktales with a modern gaze, there are most likely many aspects of the stories that certainly are problematic - especially the ones coming from a woman's point of view. I have read - and translated - quite a few fairytales throughout the years, and  in many of these stories the female characters often emerge as beautiful "giveaway goodies." In this respect, the fairytale The Aslad and the Good Helpers might serve as a case in point; in short, a megalomaniac king hears news of a ship that travels just as fast on land as it does on water; he craves to have a ship like that, and to the one who succeeds in building this ship, "he promises to give away his daughter, and half the kingdom as well." The princess is ultimately deprived of having a say, and is consequently married off to someone she hasn't even spoken to.

There are reasons for such a course of action obviously; the folk tradition does not make room for inner monologs or character development. All of the characters are fixed, based on a certain formula, each with its own function. The obnoxious king, the condescending father, the dangerous troll - they are all obstacles in which the hero in question must surpass in order to prove himself and succeed. The prize is economical stability in form of riches, safety in form of a home - and love in form of a princess. The stories must therefor be interpreted with these formulas in mind.

Nevertheless, there are exceptions, in which the woman herself takes center stage. From now on, I wish to share a few of these stories, emphasizing the strength and determination that these women posess. One of them is Snow White and Rose Red.

In short, The Twelve Wild Ducks tells the story of a queen who has twelve sons, but no daughter. A witch promises that she will have a daughter - if the witch is given power over the twelve sons. The queen gives birth to a baby girl, whom she names Snow White and Rose Red, and the twelve sons are transformed into twelve wild ducks. When years have passed and the young princess learns this, she is overcome by an enormous guilt and the need for reconciliation. She leaves her mother, her home and all that is known and safe, and sets off to to redeem her brothers from the sorcery which confines them. Also in the Brothers Grimm's notions we find variants of this fairy tale; The Seven Ravens, The Six Swans, and The Twelve Brothers. A variant of the same fairy tale can further be found in H.C. Andersen's The Wild Swans.

In contrast to the male hero, such as Askeladden (Eng. "Ashlad"), Snow White and Rose Red have a strong bond with those who need redemption. The motivation is not to save an unknown princess unfortunate enough to have been snatched away by a troll. In this tale, it is the love between siblings which nurture the story. Nevertheless, it is an assignment that demands a lot of her; while Askeladden is faced with challenges that require quick decisions and actions, Snow White and Rose Red takes on tasks that require long-term and self-sacrificing efforts. She must manifest an endurance that is never demanded of the male hero. Snow White and Rose Red is consumed with this mission for years, looking for her brothers before eventually finding them. The strength she holds – and the trials she endures - is simply not to be found among male heroes; she is even willing to sacrifice her own life - and is close to being burned alive. One of Snow White and Rose Reds equivalent, the heroine in the Grimm fairy tale "The Seven Swans" goes so far as to sacrifice a part of her own body, she cuts off her little finger to get to her brothers. Much more clearly one cannot give a symbolic expression of the highest degree of willingness to sacrifice.

Now, admittedly, Snow White and Rose Red does not go so far as to really sacrifices her life. Such an outcome would have been contrary to the internal logic of the fairytale ending of a happily ever after. But she is so close to death that the threat of death by fire and rescue at the last moment almost becomes a symbolic death and resurrection.

Ultimately, this fairytale says something about how life should be like and how it should unfold. In the battle between good and evil, honesty, kindness and virtue will win at long last, and hope, strength and courage prevail.

Once upon a time there was a queen who was out sledding; it was winter, and the ground was covered by fresh snow. When she had travelled some distance, the queen got a nose bleed and had to get out of the sleigh.

As she stood up by the fence and looked down at the red blood and the white snow, she came to think that she had twelve sons and no daughter, and then she said to herself:

- If I had a daughter as white as snow and as red as blood, I would easily give up my sons.

No sooner had she said it, she was approached by a witch.

"A daughter you shall have," she said, "and she will be as white as snow and as red as blood, and then your sons will be mine; but you can have them with you until the child is baptized.”

When the time came, the queen gave birth to a daughter, and she was as white as snow and as red as blood, as the witch had promised, and therefore they called her Snow White and Rose Red.

There was great joy in the royal court, and the queen was immensely happy; but when she remembered what she had promised the witch, she had a silversmith make twelve silver spoons, one for each prince, and then she had him make another, and she gave it Snow White and Rose Red.

Once as the princess was baptized, the princes were transformed into twelve wild ducks and flew away, and they saw no more of them; they were gone and gone the remained.

Theodor Kittelsen, 1897. The twelve Wild Ducks.
Oil on canvas. Nasjonalmuseet.

The princess grew up becoming a radiant beauty, but she was often so timid and sad, and no one could understand what was wrong with her.

But then one evening the queen was also so sad, for she must have had many oppressive thoughts, when her sons came to mind, and she said to Snow White and Rose Red:

- Why are you so sad, my child? If something is wrong with you, say so! If there's something you want, you shall have it.

- Oh, it is so desolate, said Snøhvit and Rosenrød, - everyone else has siblings, but I am so alone, I have none; that is why I mourn.

"You have also had siblings, my daughter," said the queen, "I had twelve sons, who were your brothers, but I gave them all up to have you," she said, and then she told everything that had happened.

When the princess heard that, she had no rest. No matter how much the queen cried and beseeched, it did not help; she wanted to leave, for she thought she was to blame for everything. And finally, the princess left the palace.

She walked and she walked, far out into the wide world; you would not think that such a beautiful, timid maiden had the strength to go so far.

Soon, she found herself walking in a large forest, after hiking for days and nights. Then suddenly she got tired and sat down on a mound, and there she fell asleep. Then she dreamed that she went further into the woods to a small wooden hut, and there she found her brothers.

Immediately she woke up, and right in front of her she saw an ascending path in the green moss, and that path went deeper into the forest. She followed it, and at long last she came to such a small wooden hut as she had dreamed of.

When she came into the living room, there was no one inside, but there were twelve beds and twelve chairs and twelve spoons, and twelve things of every single item. When she saw it, she was as happy as she had not been for years, for she immediately understood that her brothers lived there, and that it was they who owned the beds and the chairs and the spoons.

She added more wood in the fireplace, swept the floor and made the beds, cooked supper and cleaned and decorated as well as she could; and when she had cooked and prepared food for them all, she ate herself, but she forgot her spoon on the table, and then she crawled up into the youngest brother's bed and made herself comfortable.

Not before had she gone to bed, then she heard a rustling and whistling in the air, and then all twelve wild ducks came rushing in; but the moment they crossed the threshold, they were the princes.

-Oh, how nice and warm it is! They said, - God bless the one who has added wood to the fire and cooked us such a delicious meal!

And then they each took a silver spoon, looking forward to eat. But when each had taken their spoon, there was still one left, and it was so similar to the others that they could not distinguish it from their own.

They looked at each other, pondering.

- This is our sister’s spoon, they said, - and if there’s a spoon here, she cannot be that far away.

"If this is our sister’s spoon, and she is here, she will be killed, for she is to blame for all the pain we suffer," said the eldest of the princes, as she lay listening under the bed.

- No, said the youngest, - it would be wrong to kill her for that, our suffering is not her doing, if anyone is to blame, it is our mother.

They then began to look for her high and low, and at last they searched under all the beds as well, and when they came to the youngest prince's bed, they found her and dragged her out.

The eldest prince again wanted her killed, but she cried and begged for her life:

- Oh, dear, do not kill me, she said, - For so many years I have searched for you, if I could save you, I would gladly offer my own life.

- If you wish to save, they said, - then you will be allowed to live, because if anyone can do so, you must be the one.

- Yes, just tell me how it can happen, then I will do what it takes, said the princess.

- You shall gather thistledown, said the princes, - and you shall card and spin and weave the wool, and when you have done so, you shall cut out and sew twelve caps, twelve shirts and twelve cloths of it, one for each of us, of us, and while you do, do not speak or laugh or cry. If you can manage to do so, we are saved.

- But where shall I find thistledown for all of these cloths and hats and shirts ? said Snow White and Rose Red.

- We will show you, said the princes, and then they took her to a large marsh, so full of thistledown, dancing in the wind and glittering in the sun, that from afar that it must have looked like glistening snow.

Never before had the princess seen so much thistledown, and she immediately began to pick and gather the fastest she could, and when she came home in the evening, she sat down to card and spin it to yarn.

Theodor Kittelsen, 1913. Never before had the princess seen so much thistledown.
Privat collection.

And so it was for a long time. She gathered thistledown, carded and spun the wool into yarn, and in between she cared for the princes. She cooked and she made the beds for them, in the evening they came flying back home like wild ducks, at night they were princes, but then in the morning they flew away again and were wild ducks all day.

But then one day, as she was out in the marches gathering thistledown – and if I'm not mistaken, the last time she had to go out there - the young king, who ruled the kingdom, was out hunting. As he was riding passed the marches, he saw her. He stopped and wondered who the lovely maiden could be who went into the march, gathering thistledown. When he asked her about it, he got no answer, which made him ponder even more, and he decided he liked this girl so much that he wanted to take her home to the castle and marry her. So he told his servants to go fetch her and put her on his horse.

Snow White and Rose Red, she twisted her hands and pointed to the sacks she had all her work in, and when the king realized she wanted to take them with her, he told his servants that they should bring the sacks as well. When they had done so, the princess eventually came with, for the king was both a kind man and a handsome man, and he was as gentle and kind to her as a lark.

But when they came home to the royal court, the old queen - who was his stepmother – saw Snow White and Rose Red, and she became so angry and jealous of the princess' beauty, that she said to the king: - Can you not see it? The girl you have taken with you and whom you want to marry is a witch, she neither speaks nor laughs or cries. The king however, chose not to listen. Instead he threw a great wedding and married Snow White and Rose Red, and they lived in great joy and glory. By the end of the year, Snow White and Rose Red had given birth to a little prince, and the old queen became even more envious and vicious. And when it was late at night, she snuck in to Snow White and Rose Red’s chamber while she slept, took the child and threw it in the snake-pit. Then she cut the young queen in the finger and smeared the blood around her mouth, and then went to the king.

"Come now and see," she said, "what kind of person have you taken to be your queen? Now she has eaten her own child!”

The king was so terrified that he was nearly weeping, and said:

- Yes, it must be true, since I see it before my eyes; but she will not do it again. This time I will spare her.

Before the year was over, the young queen had given birth to yet another son, and with the new child, the story repeated itself. The king's stepmother became even more jealous and vicious; she snuck in to the queen at night while she slept, took the child and threw it in the snake-pit, cut the queen in the finger and smeared the blood around her mouth, and then she told the king that she had eaten up this child as well.

The king, grieving his son, said,

- Yes, it must be true, since I see it before my eyes; but she certainly will not do it again, so I will spare her life again.

Before the year was over, Snow White and Rose Red had given birth to a daughter, and as with the two boys, the old queen threw the baby girl into the snake-pit. While the young queen was asleep, she cut her finger, smeared the blood on her mouth, and then went to the king and said:

- Now you can come and see for yourself and listen to what I am saying; she is a witch, and now she has one up her third child as well. The king was now so mournful that there was no consolation to give, for he knew that he could no longer spare her, but had to command that she should be burned alive on the fire.

When the fire was burning, and she was to be bound to the stake, she made signs for the servants to take twelve boards and place them around the fire, and on them she lay the cloths and hats and shirts of her brothers, but the shirt of the youngest brother lacked the left sleeve, she had not been able to finish it. As soon as they had done this, they heard a flapping and whirring in the air, and then twelve flying wild ducks came in flying over the forest, and each of them took his garment in his beak and flew away.

"Now do you see," said the wicked queen to the king, "that she is a witch, hurry now and burn her before the firewood burns up."

- Oh, said the king, - we have plenty of firewood; there’s a whole forest at hand. I want to wait a little longer, to see what will be the end of this.

At that moment the twelve princes appeared, riding on their horses as beautiful and full-grown young men, but the youngest prince had a duck-wing instead of his left arm.

“What's going on?” asked the princes.

"My queen will be burned, for she is a witch and has eaten her own children," replied the king.

"She has not eaten them," said the princes. “Speak now, sister, for you have saved us, now save yourself!”

So Snow White and Rose Red finally spoke and told about everything that had happened, that every time she had fallen asleep, the wicked queen, stepmother to the king, crept into her at night, had taken her and cut her finger and smeared the blood around her mouth.

And the princes took the king, and brought him to the snake-pit; there lay the three children playing with worms and toads, and more beautiful children have you never seen before!

The king took them with him and carried them to his stepmother and asked her what punishment she thought one should receive who could have the heart to betray an innocent queen and three such blessed children.

- They should be strapped between twelve untamed horses, so that each horse got his share, said the old queen.

“You have announced your own verdict, and you yourself will get suffer it,” the King said.

And then the old, wicked queen was tied up between twelve untamed horses, each of whom taking his share, ripping her to pieces.

But Snow White and Rose Red brought the king and their children and her twelve brothers, back home to their parents and told them all that had happened. And there was great joy and delight throughout all the kingdom, for the princess was saved and had saved her twelve brothers as well.

Sources:

• Danielsen, Ruth (1994) | Så levde de lykkelig -: barn, eventyr og verdier. Cappelen forlag: Oslo.
• Norsk Folkeminnesamling. AT451: De tolv villendene. Sted: Gjerdrum, Akershus. Samler: P. Chr. Asbjørnsen

"Crack and crackle and make merry!" - Keeping Warm at Christmas

Nearly all of the supernatural beings inhabiting the Scandinavian folklore were on the move on Christmas Eve, and were especially dangerous around winter solstice. For protection and safeguard against this rabble, there were a number of superstitious customs that were carefully observed. In the old society, these were important elements within the Yule celebration.

Having nothing but firewood, and in some places peat, to keep warm it was important to acquire a large stock in advance, making sure that the house would remain nice and heated all Christmas without having to disrupt the peace of mind and reduce the festivities. At Christmas, no room should be locked, dark or cold.

The Christmas wood should be nice and sturdy, preferably dry birch and pine. It was to be cut in the growing moon and with the leaves on - then it burned twice as well, it was told. In Fjærland in Western Norway it had to be of seven sorts, the best one came across in the forest during the year. On Christmas Eve, the fire should "crack and crackle and make merry", for when it crackled, the witches were scared away from the chimney! Preferably it should be one single great, big log that would burn throughout Christmas Eve or even longer.

Some notions indicate that in earlier times, the lokal fjøsnisse - or more menacing Christmas spirits - , would make sure that the right procedure had been conducted. In Lofoten it was told, that if the firewood were not proparly provided, the undead came at night and sawing and chopping, making a terrible noise. The usual practice was to chop up enough for the thirteenth or twentieth day of Christmas, and stock it inside for the first two days of the celebration. Any other procedure was considered a disgrace. Finally, a cross of firewood was placed on the chopping block, and it had to lie there until Christmas had passed - to bless the work completed and protect against evil spirits.

Theodor Kittelsen. Freezing cold, 1903

Source:

• Ørnulf Hodne. Jul i Norge. Cappelen, 1996.

The Kraken

Below the thunders of the upper deep;
Far far beneath in the abysmal sea,
His ancient, dreamless, uninvaded sleep
The Kraken sleepeth: faintest sunlights flee  

About his shadowy sides; above him swell
Huge sponges of millennial growth and height;
And far away into the sickly light,
From many a wondrous grot and secret cell
Unnumber'd and enormous polypi

Winnow with giant arms the slumbering green.
There hath he lain for ages, and will lie
Battening upon huge seaworms in his sleep,
Until the latter fire shall heat the deep;
Then once by man and angels to be seen,
In roaring he shall rise and on the surface die.

- Alfred Tennyson 

An illustration from the original 1870 edition of
Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea by Jules Verne

In popular culture, few beings have evoked more horror and jaw-dropping feedback than the creatures we find at sea. Some of the oldest recorded notions are connected to the abyss, bewildering and infinite as it appears to this day. One of the most mysterious being connections to this realm, is quite certainly the Kraken. 

Introducing this article, we found English poet Alfred Tennyson's poem The Kraken, published in 1830. Some may recognize that the last lines of the poem, bearing similarities with the biblical legend of the mysterious Leviathan - a huge sea monster which was to come to the surface in the end times, in the form of something in between of a snake and a dragon. Tennyson's description has in turn influenced French author Jules Verne, who mentions a giant squid in the novel Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea, published in 1870.

Fantasy writer J.R.R. Tolkien also made use of the tales of the Kraken, as inspiration for the monster at the entrance to Moria's mines mentioned in The Fellowship of the Ring, published in English in 1954 and 1955. Later on, notions of the Kraken have been included in several popular cultural narratives; some might recall the creature taking form of a great octopus, in the American fantasy swashbuckler film Pirates of the Carribean; Dead Man's Chest from 2006. 

For those of you unfamiliar with the film, here's a tasty teaser:

Already in ancient times there were several stories telling of great monsters at sea. In Greek and Roman mythology there are notions of Skylla, who lived on one side of a narrow strait; a terrible thing to behold, she had four eyes, six long necks with eerie heads, each of which had three rows of sharp teeth. Her body consisted of twelve feet resembling tentacles, she had a fishtail and four to six dog heads (!) growing out at her waist.

On the other side of the strait, there was Kharybdis, who lived under a small mountain. Three times a day, Kharybdi swallowed large amounts of water before blowing it out again, thus creating a whirlpool large enough to pull a ship under water. In one of the variations of the story, Kharybdis in fact is a great whirlpool or the embodiment of it. Together they guarded the Strait of Messina between Italy and Sicily, and the Odyssey tells of how they almost swallowed the Greek legendary hero Odysseus. "Between Skylla and Kharybdis" became a fixed saying; to choose between two evils. Between a rock and a hard place.

According to Konungs skuggsjá (Old Norse, ’the King’s Mirror’), an Old Norwegian philosophical didactic work written toward the end of the 12th century, there was a creature so monstrous and fearsome, that the author of the work thought it daring just to mention it. Described as a massive fish, more resembling an island than a living thing, the gap no smaller than a large strait or a fjord, the Hafgufa (Icelandic origin, meaning 'ocean-steam'), was rarely observed. Always spotted in the same two places, the author concluded there must be only two of the Hafgugas and that they must be infertile, otherwise the seas would be full of them. 

The Swedish clergyman Olaus Magnus' imaginative "Carta Marina" from 1539 shows a number of sea monsters in the waters between Norway and Iceland. The map was drawn in Italy and is today available in two well-known copies - one is stored in Munich, the other in the Carolina Rediviva library in Uppsala, Sweden.

According to Danish bishop and natural historian Erik Pontoppidan (1698-1764), the creature was also called krake or kraks, and had been observed by many fishermen along the Norwegian coast over the years. The descriptions he reproduced are very reminiscent of Konungs skuggsjá, written 500 years earlier. When the fishermen, especially on hot summer days, suddenly found themselves on a strange shallow with quantities of fish, it was the Kraken about to rise from the deep, resulting in the "unnatural increase" of the depth conditions. Then suddenly, glistening, mast-high spikes and ridges appeared, able to sink even the largest warship - "and after a short time the Kraken descended into the depths again", leaving a fatal whirlpool. Pontoppidan himself thought that the monster must have beeen a giant octopus.

The idea of this creature is international, and goes far back in time to distant shores, to China, India and the Atlantic Ocean. The Roman Gaius Plinius (23-79 AD) for example, could tell about a fish a hundred meters long, and about whales with a surface area of a small piece of land. They appeared especially around the summer solstice when whirlwinds stirred the sea. One could be tempted to refer it all to fantasy, had it not been for the prolonged and rather unanimous notions, based on reliable observations also from recent times.

On September 11, 1876, the English ship Nestor passed such a monster in the Strait of Malacca. The captain's report was published a week later in the Straits Times Overland Journal. Neither the captain, the crew, nor the passengers were in doubt; they had seen an immense body of an animal follow the ship for half an hour. The length was calculated to be over 200 feet, the square head about four meters wide.

Outside Iceland, observations of the havgufa, or ocean-steams, might originate from natural explanations; from underwater volcanoes that can create ocean currents, bubbling water and the formation of new islets. Many of the other observations that have been made, may simply be mirages or low-lying clouds. It is not unreasonable to believe that this sea monster was in fact a whale or giant octopuses searching the fish banks for food, and that the fishermen in their small boats, understandably, experienced a threatening and monstrous being of great and supernatural dimensions.

Nevertheless;  among the coastal people of western and northern Norway, the tall tale tradition of the Kraken remained almost unchanged in legends and eyewitness accounts right into the 20th century. The fisherman encountering the monster at first observes the sea which, little by little becomes shallower, and fills up with a shoal of fish. Eventually, several long poles or arms shoots up from the abyss, huddles around the fish as in an embrace, before sinking back into the depths again. 

The notions connected to this creature, bear reminders of a need to comprehend even the most enigmatic and treacherous a man could ever encounter; the abyss. There was a saying in Norwegian; to fish “upon the kraken.” In many cases, this entailed chances of a big catch. It may also involve a fatal peril – to risk life itself. 

The Kraken, as seen by the eye of imagination: imaginary view of a gigantic octopus seizing a ship, 1887. Gibson, J. (1887). Monsters of the Sea: Legendary and Authentic. Thomas Nelson and Sons, London. 

Source:

• Ørnulf Hodne (2012). Vetter og skrømt i norsk folketro. Cappelen Damm. 

"They traveled through the air on broomsticks" - traditions of paschal witches' sabbaths

Easter's protective magic was especially aimed at sorcerers who were particularly active on Maundy Thursday and Easter Eve, when Jesus Christ had not yet resurrected. Central to the belief in witches were the Sabbaths, as they “traveled through the air on broomsticks, ladles and goats to specific places of gathering – be it at the Blocksberg (Brocken) in Germany, Blockula in Sweden, Lyderhorn in Norway, where the Devil held his Earthly court.

Blockula, (assumed to be a Swedish equalent to the German Blocksberg), was according to Swedish popular belief Satans domicile, where the witches were believed to be going on Maundy Thursday to feast with Lucifer, from which they returned Easter Sunday morning. The journey would be conducted on a broomstick, a green-branch, sometimes also on a farm animal, a horse or a human being. The rider often sat backwards, and the means of transport was lubricated with a kind of magic butter, which the sorceress kept in a horn. 

The witch's equipment often also included a needle, which, when stuck into a wall, for the moment created such an opening large enough to, "go through by horse and carriage." Thus it became easy for the witches to abduct children – a misdeed, which they often conducted to acquire new disciples. The witches gathered in church towers, where they scraped flakes of metal of the church bells. As they continued the ride, they threw the ore shavings into the air, shouting, "May my soul never come to the kingdom of God, until this metal makes it back to the bells!"

When arriving at Blockula they greeted Satan, whom the witches referred to as "gofar" (“good-father”) or "antifar" (“anti-father”), and presented to him the children. He signed a contract with the young ones by handshake, after which he bit them in the forehead or scratched them in the little finger, shedding the children’s blood. At last they were inscribed in a large book. After a great feast, there was music and dance, in which Satan joined in, "amused by the works of darkness." People seem to have witnessed a religious act during the travels to Blockula, whose compliance presupposed the renunciation of Christianity. 

This French engraving shows a witch's sabbath at Bloksberg. By Mikael Herr (1650)

Obviously, the fear of such a wicked act to take place was most present. Consequently, people took as much precaution as they could muster. Pieces of steel inserted over doors, beds, and barns were safety advice that kept the witches at bay. So did crosses, open fire and brooms (!). Indeed, you read correctly. Norwegian sociologist Eilert Sundt (1817-1875) has pointed out that it was common to lay a broomstick outside the front door so that people could dry their shoes on it before entering the house. "True, spruce bushes could also be used; but according to the customs, it should preferably be a broom; for over such a device, neither sorcerers nor other hostilities could cross", Sundt wrote. Such women could be recognized by throwing the broom aside with their feet before entering!

If the sorceress couldn't find a broom to ride, she took a horse, cow or goat instead, which was much worse. This was the reason why, Sundt believed, so many people put a number of broomsticks outside the kitchen or barn door on Christmas Eve and Maundy Thursday. If there was a broom outside, the witches would not make use of other entities.

Sources:

• ”Blåkulla”, in Nordisk Familjebok. Konversationslexikon och realencyklopedi. Tredje bandet. Bergsvalan – Branstad. Stockholm 1905
• Ørnulf Hodne (1999). Norsk folketro. Cappelen forlag.

Across land and sea: reflections on the Black Plague

Looking back, my very first post on this blog was an article about the black plague and an old hag named Pesta. Seven years later, I feel a need to elaborate. Although I will not draw any comparisons, times like these makes me think. Typhoid fever, cholera, dysentery and plague have, since antiquity, appeared in the most varied forms. With no medical understanding of the illness itself or the spread of infection, how is something similar to a pandemic explained? How did people hundreds of years ago relate and come to terms with such a catastrophe?

According to Norwegian medieval historian Ole Jørgen Benedictow, it was in September 1348 that merchant ships sailing from Oslo to seaports in Southeast England this time would return with something quite different than the usual cargo of wheat, glassware, beer and wine; the crew could tell about such a horrifying pestilence unlike anything before. Originating from parasites living on the rodents that were regular passengers on the ships, the bacterium named Yersinia pestis transmitted effectively to men, whom in turn passed it on to each other. Regardless of age, gender and social status, none were spared – under a period of only two years, nearly 220,000 of a Norwegian population on an estimated 350,000 residents would perish. It was a tribulation beyond measure, and it is natural to imagine that the plague would generate an anguish that would dominate people’s minds and storytelling in the centuries that followed.

The creation of Pesta in the folk traditions describes the need for an embodiment of a previously unknown experience. She is a mythical being, not of this world, yet she is not as regular a feature in nature and the folktales such as trolls, dwarves or the hulderfolk - she is special, unique in her malice. She gave shape to the eeriness and anguish that arose from the Black Death, and we get a rare glimpse of the experiences of the ordinary folk; dark, blind and hideous, death raged from farm to farm.

Theodor Kittelsen (1894-96). 

Illustration for The Black Plague (1900).

Nasjonalmuseet, The Fine Art Collections

In the traditional district Solør in the Southeastern part of Norway, it was told that "Pesta was an old hag, whom in previous times made her way around the farms in Solør. She carried with her a rake, and a broom. Where she made use of her rake outside the farmhouse door, some were spared. But where she used her broom, all became ill, and perished."

On that account, it is quite clear that a consciousness of the mortality of the illness emerged at an early stage; with the speed of lightening, "it ravaged across the lands, bringing Norway to a state of powerlessness that would last for centuries." And it was an old, black-backed and beastly hag who was to blame. Simultaneously, there was a need for an understanding of why there were people whom, against all odds, came out of it unaffected, while other places not a living soul could be seen for miles. Pesta’s use of her the rake and broom in fact helped explain this injustice; where she used her rake some were lucky enough to live, slipping as they did though the rakes gaps. Where she used her broom, all perished.

Norwegian folklorist Reidar Th. Christiansen presented the stories of transportation the plague across land and sea as a separate category within the folklore tradition, which indicates that stories like these were highly widespread. What’s interesting is that traces of historical truth can be detected through these legends. The plot – Pesta receiving assistance to travel across waters - can firstly be associated with the arrival of the plague by the ships from England in 1349. The legend might also be interpreted a defense technique used to prevent the spread of the plague; the technique involved quarantining an entire district, where rivers and streams marked the boundary which no one were to violate. "Where the parish or district borders were marked by a river, any traffic across were prohibited. The plague was not considered to be able to cross over running water", Swedish folklorist Carl-Herman Tillhagen writes. The consequence was complete isolation.

From Norwegian historian and priest Andreas Faye's records we find a legend from Gjerrestad in Aust-Agder in Southern Norway, which tells of the ferryman who were employed to ship Pesta across from one side of the waters to the next. It took a while before he realized who the passanger actually was, and became very frightened when the truth finally dawned on him. The man pleaded her to spare his life as a reward for having carried her across: "Pesta then took out a large book, opened it and replied: 'Your life I cannot save, but an easy death I may grant you.' As soon as the man returned home, he became drowsy. He then lay down, and perished."

Theodor Kittelsen, Across land and sea (1904)

This is not a unique formula; the stories of the folk traditions tell of supernatural beings interfering in all areas of everyday life, and as a consequense, people thought that the subterranians were nearby or followed them wherever they were. The stories about the nisse might be a relevant comparison; nissen had his abode in houses and barns, and served as a guardian, as well as a helper. He was essentially good-natured, and loved conducting 
practical jokes. It was however, important to be on good terms with him, for he could create a lot of turmoil if he was neglected. That being said, Pesta, of course, was not considered a helper, yet the story of the ferryman might be interpreteted as an explanation of why someone had to suffer the black death for days, while others were "lucky" enough to simply fall asleep, never to wake up again. 

For a population who had no knowledge of the medical explanatory model for infection and the spread of disease, it was natural to make use of a worldview already familiar to the ordinary folk. In popular belief, disappearances, sickness, and misery were most often not something people were accidentally exposed to, but rather punishments for violating the social norms existing between humans and the supernatural. 

Plaga, a word of Latin origin meaning stroke or shock, is a term which has been in use for centuries; already Homer's The Illiad, tells of Apollon shooting arrows contaminated with plague on the achaeans, and several sections of the Old Testament tells of an angel of the Lord striking the people with plague by using a sword. In pagan times, it was also believed that sickness and good health, besides happiness and suffering, life and death, were associated with the benevolence and resentment of the gods. In the Nordic lands, long after Christianity was introduced, the folk tradition expresses a mixture of anxiety about what the ancient gods could think of to avenge, as well as thoughts about the plague as a punishment from a chastening, Christian God for mankind's sinful ways of life. 

Combined, these perspectives are important at multiple levels; embodiments such as Pesta help to form an intelligible system in spite of chaotic situations. Hence, they expresse people's need and ability to create create an unambiguous structure of a situation that has gotten out of control. The story of the ferryman verifies this viewpoint; by helping her across (although unknowledgeable), he is given the opportunity to influence his own passing. In this sense, he is rewarded in some way, even if his life comes to an end. At the same time, the thoughts and ideas centered around the reasons of the plague, reveals a basic need to understand, as well as to reflect on the fundamental questions; our relations with the divine, who we are, where we are going. Why is this happening to us? 

These notions are not restricted in any ways, not by space nor time. As a consequense, historical legends might be considered as gateways to a better understanding of how we as a joint mankind, at all times, reflect upon our existence.


Sources:

• Camilla Christensen. Against the might, ominous forces of nature... Nature, myth and national identity in the art of Theodor Kittelsen. In "Becoming the Forest", #2. A project by Una Hamilton Helle, co-edited with Lotte Brown, 2017

• Andreas Faye. Norske Folke-sagn. Norsk Folkeminnelags Forlag. Tredje Oplag. Oslo 1948.

• Ole Jørgen Benedictow. Svartedauen og senere pestepidemier i Norge. Unipub Forlag 2002.

• Reidar Th. Christensen. The Migratory Legends. Helsinki 1958

• Carl Herman Tillhagen. Sägner och folktro kring pesten. I Fataburen. Nordiska museets och Skansens årsbok 1967.

The Draug

It has been common belief that those whom were lost at sea – their final resting place being a wet grave, instead of consecrated soil – became outlawed wraiths, menacing to encounter, forecasting predictions of shipwrecks and drownings. In the fishing and coastal tradition along the northern Norwegian coast, the draug (Old Norse, draugr = Eng. corpse) practically a personification of all those who throughout the ages had ended their lives this way, never to be found again.

Most concentrated is the draft tradition around the areas for the two largest seasonal fishing in Northern Norway: Lofoten and Finmark. Fishing for cod in Lofoten starts in January and lasts until April. During this period, the fish searches for shore to spawn. Since the Viking era, these fisheries have been of great importance as the dried fish (stockfish) in pre-modern times was Norways by far the largest export economy.

Winter, Reine in Lofoten, painting by Norwegian artist Otto Sinding, 1894

According to Norwegian theologist and sociologist Eilert Sundt's (1817-1875) statistical surveys of the last century, 200 people drowned in the Tromsø Diocese (= the whole of Northern Norway) in 1863, which was a normal annual average. The year before, 95 boats were lost in the same diocese. The Lofoten fishing alone required 15-20 lives each year. In retrospect, the narrative tradition of the draug provides an understanding of the relentless and dangerous life along the Norwegian coast in ancient times. These stories are ultimately expressions of the collective anxiety for death and the ones lost at sea.

By appearance, the draug looked like an old-fashioned fisherman in leather coat, leather trousers, leather hat and rubber boots, yet his head was nothing seaweed, arms and legs were abnormally long compared to the rest of his body, and he sailed in half a boat. He was always alone on board and kept the same steady course as the fishermen. If he cried and shouted to them, they were wise not to answer, because then their boat would capsize. The calls sounded like screams of people in distress, and probably originated in rather tangible observations, whether coming from the boat vault or from birds or sea creatures. They were interpreted as warnings of storms and death, from which people adapted if they could.

The Sea Troll, illustration by Theodor Kittelsen 1887

A crew encountering the draug in his half-boat never arrived safely in port – many of the men even found themselves on their very last voyage. A more recent story, dating back to 1931, proclaims:

It was a winter day during the last fishing season, and lots of boats out and about. Then it suddenly a storm blew up, and everyone struggled hard to get ashore. One of the crews sailing at some distance from the others saw a boat they did not know, and looked more closely, they discovered that the boat was half. They realized it was the draug and that their chip was about to wreck. And so it did. the boat capsized during a surge, taking the lives of four men. Three survived, of which one of them later decided to tell the tale.

Source:

• Ørnulf Hodne (2012). Vetter og skrømt i norsk folketro. Cappelen. 

So they threw a wedding, and reveled and made merry, and fired off shots to scare away the troll hags.

In the old communities, throwing a wedding traditionally implied several days of costly and complex festivity, involving a network of customs and beliefs bearing different religious and social functions. If the primary purpose was to protect the bride and groom from temptations and dangers at a critical time, the church’s blessing simply did not bend. As the threats came from beings in which only the folk belief knew the means of defense.

Especially on the wedding day, the bride in particular found herself in a precarious situation. From the very moment she got up that day, and until she returned from church, the subterraneans crept about, trying to lure her from the wedding and into the mountain. Some stories tell of the girl voluntarily surrendering to the Mountain King. Other stories have a more heartbreaking approach; according to a legend from Notodden, a municipality in the southeastern part of Norway, the bride where on her way to the stave church of Heddal for the ceremony. As the bridal procession passed the mountain, the bride suddenly disappeared – the creatures got to her, locking her up in the stones. In order to call her back, the bells of the local church bells were put into use – however, the bell rope broke, and all to be heard from the girl was a distant cry from the innermost part of the mountain.

To prevent this from happening, the entourage was always arranged so that the bride along the way was surrounded by at least two bridal friends, who shot scarecrows over her head with pistols and guns, accompanied by shrieking and yelling from the other guests, making sure she was not captured by the mountain creatures, or – if passing a bridge – pulled underwater by the dreadful neck. As an extra safety precaution, the bride, as well as the groom, had a few silver shillings in their shoes, as the use of silver was known to scare the subterraneans away. If travelling by boat, the wedding couple with company was always situated in the first vessel, while blasts from the shotgun crackled and shrieked around them. 

Adolph Tidemand and Hans Gude (1848). Brudeferden i Hardanger 

(Bridal Procession on the Hardangerfjord). 

The Norwegian National Museum of Art, Architecture and Design

Source:

• Ørnulf Hodne (1999). Norsk Folketro. Cappelen