Every story has a beginning III

Here I am, back in the virtual world after a far longer absence than I would have liked. The truth is that things have been rather difficult over the past few months. I haven’t even had time to update this blog. Followers of Hyperborea Exists, I hope you’ll accept my sincerest apologies. Now that I’m back, here is a new entry in the series ‘Every story has a beginning’. In this series, I’m progressively explaining how I came to be professionally and academically involved in the Hyperborea myth.

As I explained in the second post in this series, the first week of our work and observational expedition was calm and routine with nothing out of the ordinary. The second week began very much like the first. No new developments. Until we reached the twelfth day of underwater prospecting. On the twelfth day, Olve, Geir and I woke up as usual. We were just finishing breakfast and having our first coffee of the day when we received an alert informing us that we had reached the next waypoint. That meant it was time to launch one of the mini-submarines into the water. It would show us the ocean floor before we laid the next stretch of guide cable.

Rise of Barracuda 1. After carrying out on-site observations with the underwater robot throughout the day, it had to be recovered in order to collect the samples gathered and perform maintenance.

After winching Barracuda 1 up and launching it into the ocean, we squeezed into the operations room where Olve was in charge of operating the robot by remote control. The submarine slowly descended to the ocean floor, almost ten thousand feet deep. It took half an hour for the robot to reach the bottom then it started to explore the area where the guide cable would be laid. This part of the seabed wasn’t flat; there was a mini-fault and several sharp drops so it was important to check the entire area carefully. We were at the far south of what is known as the Jan Mayen reef, about half a mile from Iceland.

The environment was rich in marine flora and fauna. Geir was thrilled, this was a great opportunity to observe the species that populated this small section of sea, even if it was from a distance. Fish tend to be extremely shy at these depths, so each animal we spotted was a small achievement for all of us. Geir’s enthusiasm was catching. He was focused on any living creatures that appeared before Barracuda 1’s cameras. Olve was concentrating on operating the submarine, no easy task considering the underwater conditions. Meanwhile, I was carefully examining the reef, rock and ocean floor formations in search of any pattern that might mean possible archaeological remains. I was very thorough, even if I was convinced that we wouldn’t find anything there.

We spent two hours observing the seabed. This phase had nearly finished and we were just about to raise Barracuda 1 back up to the boat when we made our first discovery. We spotted what looked like a well, an opening in the middle of a hundred-foot long ridge. I was keen to explore it. Geir was too. He thought there might be a rich ecosystem inside the well and perhaps he would be able to catalogue a new species. I was interested because I’ve always been fascinated by underwater subterranean formations. I wanted to see whether it was just a well or the entrance to a larger system of galleries.

Nyocema in detail. This elongated orange and very rare fish was seen both in the Niflheim cave and in other abyssal points of the Atlantic Ocean.

Olve carefully guided Barracuda 1 into the well. It was a tricky manoeuvre. If the robot bumped into the rocky sides, or was struck by falling rocks, it could be seriously damaged. And this visit wasn’t exactly within the remit of our mission. It turned out to be a fairly large cave measuring about sixty-five metres high, a hundred and thirty metres long by a hundred metres wide. The floor was covered in very pale sand. Small coral colonies were scattered across the cave and Geir made his first great discovery of the mission when a strange-looking, long orange fish appeared. It would later be named ‘neocyema’. We also found an unusual blue octopus that was extremely curious about Barracuda 1.

When the submarine robot entered the cave, its propeller blades stirred up lots of ‘dust’ that had been lying on the floor. At one point it became very hard to see, so we decided that as soon as the dust settled and our vision improved, we’d guide the robot back up to the surface. When Olve could finally see, he drove Barracuda 1 towards the exit. That was when I saw it. A reflection caught my eye. We hadn’t spotted it earlier because it had been covered by a layer of dust but now it stood out clearly. It was a small, spherical formation and although it was surrounded by coral it instantly grabbed my attention. It definitely wasn’t naturally occurring.

Abyssal Octopus. This animal showed great curioisty for the Barracuda 1 when it entered the cave of Niflheim.

We guided Barracuda 1 closer for a better look. When we were about three feet away, Olve used a robotic arm to get a feel of the formation. The arm stretched out and opened its pincers to grab the sphere. The pincers closed around the object and tried to pull. We were out of luck. Whatever it was, it was firmly stuck to the ground. However, we soon noticed that as the robot pulled, the ground around the object moved too. It appeared to be attached to something bigger, something that was neither the ocean floor nor rocks. I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. Everything pointed towards the discovery of strange archaeological remains. But the remains of what? I didn’t have the faintest idea.

Followers of Hyperborea Exists, I’m afraid that’s all for this post. When I return, I’ll explain what happened next and our first discoveries in the Cave of Niflheim. That was the name we gave to the cave, after a world that appears in Nordic mythology. Thank you for your support, as always, and above all your patience with my delays in updating the blog. Best wishes to you all.

Every story has a beginning II

Dear followers of Hyperborea Exists, it’s been over a month since I last wrote. It seems that the gods are determined to prevent me updating the blog more regularly but fear not, sooner or later I’ll always be back in touch. The truth must be discovered.  In my last post I started to tell the story of how I really became involved in the Hyperborea myth. Here is the second part.

As I explained, on 7 June 2000 I set forth from Bodø in northern Norway aboard the Blue Sea with Geir Grønvoll and Olve Raaen, my colleagues from the NTNU. Geir is a renowned expert in submarine ecosystems and Olve specialises in applied robotics. Olve was in charge of Barracuda 1 and 2, the submarine robots that would reveal first-hand what lay in the murky depths. I was involved in the expedition as an expert in submarine archaeology, just in case we discovered any remains along the proposed route. It was rather like building a motorway. Before you can begin, first you have to study the environmental impact and check whether or not the work will affect any archaeological remains.

Descriptive diagram of the elements that configure a submarine cable system. 

On this project we didn’t expect to find anything significant because the route was a long way away from all standard maritime routes and there were no records of any shipwrecks in the area. However, international regulations meant that these checks were compulsory. As you can imagine, my expectations were low. In fact, of the three of us, I was the only one who didn’t expect to find much. Greir was the most enthusiastic because the expedition served as the perfect excuse for him to closely observe marine environments that he would never have been able to study otherwise. The cost would have been prohibitive, after all, we’re talking about depths that range between ten and thirteen thousand feet.

The first week was fairly routine. Our route was north-northeast for six hundred nautical miles, at which point we would turn east-southeast until we reached Iceland. A direct route east had been ruled out because Nordic Communications hoped that this cable would be the first of two. The second cable would connect to Greenland. The point where we changed direction would be the location for an interconnector that would one day function as a bridge between Iceland, Greenland and the continent.

Submarine cable. During our surveys we deployed hundreds of kilometers of Steel guide cable. This photo was taken by Barracuda 1, one of the two underwater robots that we used during this Project.

We woke up between 5 and 6 am each morning to start work just as the first rays of sunlight appeared over the horizon. Our routine was to move from waypoint to waypoint releasing the Barracuda robots at each location and observing the ocean floor and environment to assess the viability of the ‘path’. If a waypoint proved to be viable, the next waypoint was assigned and the Nordic Comms team released the steel guide cable. This guide cable would be used to lay the real cable once we had finished our job.

Among our observations, we focused on the following aspects: local fauna and flora, rock and coral formations and, for my part, any traces of archaeological remains. The Barracuda robots made our work far easier. Before they were invented, we would have had to carry out highly dangerous dives in pressurized suits. Or simply omit on-site checks, so that the workers who laid the cable would be unaware of any damage that they could cause. That first week was fairly calm and without incident. Things started to get interesting in the second week. 

But I’ll save that for the next update. That’s all for today, I’m afraid, duty calls. We’re making good progress and are closer and closer to revealing the truth behind the Hyperborea myth.

Every story has a beginning I

Dear followers of Hyperborea Exists, I hope that you’re having a good start to 2011. I’ve begun the New Year much as 2010 ended: working non-stop. Obviously that’s a good thing, considering these difficult times. Today I’d like to begin a series of posts that will progressively explain how I first became involved in researching the Hyperborea myth. As the title describes, every story has a beginning, and this is the beginning of mine with Hyperborea.

NTNU main building. Trondheim, Norway.

It all started over ten years ago, in the summer of 2000. Back then I had been working as a resident teacher and researcher at the NTNU for over eight years. My time was divided between teaching submarine archaeology classes and various field work projects that we were developing for the Norwegian government, other institutions and private companies. We had our own research to complete on top of that.

As I’ve mentioned before, ever since I was a boy I’ve always had a great passion for Nordic mythology, for the legends of my land. It was, and is, a subject that inspires me and I’ve always read, studied and researched anything I could find on it in my spare time. In an ideal world, a researcher like me should be able to live off researching their grand romantic dreams. But real life isn’t like that. So the field work that dominated my schedule normally had nothing to do with the area that fascinated me the most.

I don’t mean that I didn’t find it interesting to rescue 17th century shipwrecks or Second World War remains. Quite the opposite. All the projects I’ve worked on have been both important and personally satisfying. But there was always something niggling away inside me, telling me that something was missing. That I needed something more if I was going to feel fulfilled in life, on a personal level and also as a professional researcher and explorer. A challenge that matched my true interests.

It seems that fate heard my secret wishes for once. In June 2000, the Nordic Communications consortium contacted the NTNU requesting assistance with a study. It needed help assessing the viability of laying an underwater fibre optic cable that would connect the continental Nordic countries with Iceland and the Faroe Islands. The project proposed to use over 900 miles of submarine cables. It was unquestionably one of the largest projects in which we had ever been involved. Our role, in collaboration with the company contracted to carry out the on-site work, required us to study the best route for the cable, its environmental impact on the ocean floor and ultimately, whether or not the project was viable.

It would involve several procedures. First a sonar and radar study of the ocean floor along the route proposed by Nordic Communications. So far, the suggested route had been chosen because it was the most economical i.e. it was the straightest route possible. Once we had studied the results, if this initial route proved to be unworkable, we would then study secondary routes and repeat the first step. If the first route was viable, we then had to lay a basic steel test cable. This would determine the actual conditions on the ocean floor and reveal any high risk points that would require additional action when the real cable was laid.

So, after running some preliminary studies, we packed up our kit and boarded Nordic Communications’ chartered boat, the Blue Sea. I was joined by Geir Grønvoll and Olve Raan, colleagues at the NTNU, and two small but highly useful submarine robots: Barracuda 1 and Barracuda 2. They belonged to the NTNU and would be essential for observing what was happening on the ocean floor as we laid the steel cable in real time.

It was 7 June 2000. A long month of hard work on the high seas awaited us..

History of Nordic Mythology IX: Freyr and Gerd, the giant

Dear 'Hyperborea Exists' followers, I am here again with you to continue with this basic history lesson about northern mythology. Today, I wanted to fully dedicate this update to the tale of Freyr and Gerd, the giant, which I'm sure you'll find as interesting as I do.

The tale of Freyr, Gerd and Skirnir is told in the poem 'Skirnismal', found in the Edda. Snorri Sturluson tells us a shorter and more idealized story in Gylfaginning. This tale begins in Asgard. Freyr, god of wealth and fertility, rests in Hlidskialf, Odin's house, from where he contemplates the rest of the worlds in the universe. Watching over the giants' world he sees Gerd, a beautiful giant, in his father's property courtyard, and instantly falls in love with her. Freyr sighs for her love.

Wild boar and wolf. by Friedrich Gauermann (1807-1862). In the northern mythology, many gods are linked with animals. Freyr's cart is pulled by two wild boars: Gullinbursti, whose hair shines in the dark and Slidrugtanni. In battle, warriors consecrated to the cult of the wild boar fought in wedge formation with their two paladins on front, forming the rani (snout).

They sent Freyr's servant, Skirnir, to ask him what's wrong with him. Freyr tells him, but he believes that his passion is doomed to be left unsatisfied. Skirnir offers himself to travel to the land of the giants and to woo Gerd in his name. He borrows Freyr's magic sword and his horse. After travelling across mountains and skipping a fire ring that surrounds the land of the giants, he reaches Gerd's home, but he finds his way blocked by fierce guardian hounds. Gerd, nonetheless, decides to greet him in his canopy.

 Skirnir tells her about Freyr's love and gives her as incentives golden apples and Draupnir, a golden magic ring that multiplies on its own, but Gerd has all the gold she needs and refuses to accept the presents. Skirnir then threatens her (and also her father, the giant Gymir, if he dared to intervene) with killing them with Freyr's sword, but Gerd resists. Skirnir tells her about the curse he will bring down on her if she insists on rejecting Freyr's generous love offer.

The curse will be engraved in runes in a 'taming rod', and according to its terms Gerd will be doomed to a dead life in the land of the giants. Skirnir describes her life under the curse as a mock about the life she would have if she accepted Freyr's hand. She will live in the border of his world, as Heimdall, the keeper of the gods in Asgard does; but whereas Heimdall watches his world to prevent an attack, Gerd will be a prisoner. She will always be looking at the outside, dreaming of an escape that can only lead to her death.

Fro, statue of fertility, Sweden, XI century. The main nordic gods of fertility wre Freyr (Fro) and her sister Freya. They arrived to Asgard with their father after the defeat of the Vanir against the Aesir. It is often said that in Ragnarok, Freyr will be the first to fall, because he lended Skirnir his magic sword in gratitude for his help in achieving Gerd's hand.

Her only beverage will be goat's urine, a prescription with will be even more severe when she remembers that the gods get an excellent mead out of the udders of the goat Heidrun, who browses the tree's leafs all around the world. In this nightmarish world, everybody else will see Gerd as a freak, and if she decided to marry, the best man she'll be able to get will be a three-headed giant called Hrimgrimnir. Her days will be neverending, and she will always be haunted by trolls, who will be her only companions. Tears will come flooding, and desire will take over her with an uncontrollable force.

Gerd only collapses when Skirnir begins to engrave the runes that will make this horrific panorama real. She agrees to find Freyr nine nights after that day in Barri, a place described as a 'tranquil grove'. Skirnir comes back with the news and the poem ends with the god complaining about the amount of time it took Gerd to accept their union.


Although there are many different interpretations, perhaps the most widely accepted is a symbolic reading about the fertility in the fields, according to which Freyr, known before as the god of fertility, represents the Sun, and Gerd, the unfertilized land. Skilnir would be the intermediary whose name means 'the shiny', and represents the rays of the sun, which allow the crops to germinate.


With all this we have reached the end of this chapter dedicated to Freyr. In our next 'Hyperborea Exists' update we will bring in Thor and his hammer, Mjölnir, and his relationship with the Germanic warriors. And, after having taken this step, we will focus on the longest of the related myths about Edda in prose, the one about Thor's expedition to Utgard.

As always, I wanted to thank you for your support and for telling to your friends about 'Hyperborea Exists', we are constantly increasing our numbers and with every new reader I feel more and more energy to keep this project going.




Thank you very much for your support, 'Hyperborea Exists' followers!!!!

History of Nordic Mythology VIII: Descendant of the gods

Dear Hyperborea Exists followers, I’m here with you again to bring you another chapter of the history of Nordic mythology, to complete this cycle of updates in the blog step by step. Today I’m going to make an introduction to the so-called descendants of the great gods, a series of tales about some of the most relevant mythological Nordic figures after the great father, Odin.

Many Germanic tribes had myths that they linked its reign with the gods. Often it was Odin, the most powerful of them all. One of the most antique and well-known Germanic myths reaches us through the Long Bard historyographs (?) in the VI and VII centuries, and tells us a battle between two Germanic tribes: the Wandali (Vandals) and the Winnili. The Wandali asked their main god, Godan (Wodan or Odin), to grant them victory. On the other hand, the Winnili were led by Gambara, the wise and old mother of their bosses, Ibor and Aio, who prayed to Godan’s wife, Frea (Frigg).

Frea advised the Winnili warriors to stand on the East in the morning of the battle and that their women went with the men to the front, and put their long hair across their faces. Godan had planned to grant victory to the first army he saw at dawn. The next morning, after looking through his favorite window that overlooked the East, he saw the Winnili already set up and asked: “who are these Long Bards?” After he named them, Frea said that he was obliged to grant them victory, and after that name they built their kingdom in what was to be known as Lombardy, on the north of Italy.

Angel, on an altar of the Lombard king Rachis, VIII century. The Long Bards originally came from the south of Sweden, but they established themselves in Italy and gave name to the region of Lombardy. Some tales explain that, when they became too big in number, the Winnili divided between three groups and draw between them to stay in their territory. The group headed by Ibor and Aio lost, so they left in search of a new land.

In this tale, the authors reveal some influences on their interpretation of the classic couple that governed the gods, Zeus and Hera. But this tale, undoubtedly old, proves that even halfway through the first millennia of our era, Wodan or Odin and his wife Frigg already were the powerful ancestral deities from which the royal Germanic families, along with entire tribes, wished to born.

Although it is Odin the one who always appears as the divine ancestor in the Germanic royal families’ genealogy, at least in Sweden they honored the god Freyr, as ancestor and as guardian and protector of the royal house of the Ynglingar, house of which the Norwegian royal family deducted a while later.

Even when he was often considered as the god of fertility, mostly because the statues in the Viking era and the pocket-held talismans represented him with an erect dick, in reality he was considered as the archetype of the Swedish royal family, represented by the kings of the antique Uppsala (center of the Swedish power in the VI century and later on, and even nowadays a religious and cultural focus). His characteristic virility was surely related to that image of a young and powerful king, just as his attribute, the wild boar, another symbol of strength and wealth.

The soldiers that formed the Swedish royal guard in the VII and VIII centuries had helmets decorated with a metallic wild boar. Their link to the Ynglingar house could be seen even in the nickname they gave to Freyr. Yngvi-Freyr, that maybe is a very antique name that comes from the Germanic tribes mentioned by Tacitus, who they called themselves Ingaevons.

And with this we reach the end of this chapter, the next will have as protagonist the tale of Freyr and Gerd the giant, that is a part of the Skirnismal poem from the Edda in prose by Snorri Sturluson.

I want to use this also to share with you that the Hyperborea Exists page has already gone over the 100 fans. See how every week more and more people show their interest in knowing more about our history and the mythology is something really rewarding.

Thank you so much for your support, Hyperborea Exists followers!

Note. You can find some of the info included in this series of chapters in the book Mythology/: Myths, Legends and Fantasies/ by Global Book Publishing, a great work to introduce yourselves into the general mythology of every culture in the world.

History of Nordic Mythology VII: The Source for Poetic Inspiration

Dear “Hyperborea Exists” followers, we’re here again to keep up with our lessons about the history of Nordic mythology and, finally, we go into expanding some of the legends of Nordic mythology, specifically in this extended update we’ll speak about the origin of poetic inspiration and the myth of Odin and the honey mead.

The myth of the poetic honey mead appears in the part of “Edda in prose” made by Snorri Sturluson called the “Skalds-kaparmal”, formed by some episodes that form a cycle and that it is very complex. The myth speaks about the poetry as the fruit of the divine inspiration, which gives us an idea of the importance that was given to it and the prestige the poets in the Scandinavian world had.

In the dawn of time, after a war between the Aces and the Vanes, both declare a truce by spitting on an ink that, using the accumulated saliva, an already-adult man, named Kvasir, is born. He knows everything and has the knowledge of both the Aces and the Vanes.

In Midgard, where humanity lived, Kvasir became famous thanks to his ability to answer any question without mattering how wise was the one that asked. Those that needed advice knew that he would come just by calling him. In one of those trips he meets two dwarves, Fialar and Galar, who invite him to eat deep in their caves. There they murder him and empty his blood in two pots made of mud and a boiler, where they mix it with honey until they obtain a honey mead that turns everyone that drinks it into a poet or erudite.

The giant Baugi, convinced by Odin, drills the chamber of his brother Suttung. This picture represents the giant Baugi making a hole in the cave where the honey mead is hidden. The drill has magic powers: it gets larger every time it is used; there is no place it cannot reach. The dwarves tell the gods that Kvasir has died, after choking with his own knowledge after being unable to find anyone that can compete against him in wisdom.

Afterwards, they invite Gilling, a giant, and his wife, to their lair. They carry Gilling in a rowboat, but it crashes against a rock and knocks over. As he can’t swim, Gilling drowns, but the dwarves manage to turn the boat again and getting back home to tell the giant about her husband’s death. The dwarf Fialar asks her if looking back at the place where he drowned would ease her pain, but it’s all a fallacy. As soon as he crosses the door, Galar throws a stone at her and kills her. When the son of the giants, Suttung, finds out what has happened, he locks the dwarves up and abandons them in an island that ends up covered by the flood tide. Dwarves beg for forgiveness and they offer him the honey mead as compensation for his parents’ deaths. Suttung accepts, takes the valuable honey mead, hides it inside a mountain called Hnitbiorg and puts his sister Gunnlod as guardian.

Odin in search of the honey mead

Next, history revolves around Odin’s efforts to obtain the honey mead from Suttung. Dressed as a peasant, Odin starts his mission. One day, he walks into nine serfs that are harvesting hay and with his sharpening stone he sharpens their sickles. The serfs are so impressed with the result that they decide to buy it from him. Odin accepts under the condition that the price is fair. After that, Odin throws the stone into the air and, anxious, the serfs fight for it. In the melee, they end up cutting each other’s throats with their sickles.

Odin stays in with a giant called Baugi, Suttung’s brother, to whom he hides his true identity telling him that his name is Bolverk. The nine serfs were working for Baugi, who needs to search for new workers for the harvesting. Odin offers himself to make the work of the nine men in exchange for a swig of Suttung’s honey mead. Baugi doubts that his brother accepts to share a single drop of the honey mead, but he promises to help Odin to get it after finishing the job. Odin completes the harvest and he goes to see Suttung with Baugi, but he refuses to share the honey mead. Odin draws a drill called Rati and tells Baugi to dig a hole and gets through Hnitbiorg until reaching the honey mead. Baugi drills the mountain where the honey mead is kept, but Odin makes him to get into the cave.

Necklace or amulet, IX century, Sweden. The figure, maybe a priest of the Odin’s cult, holds a sword and two spears and has an ornamented helmet. Odin is a very complex god; although he is a god of war he is also the god of wine and inspiration, although many see in his multiple faces a common perk: the evasion of oneself, by means of death or drunkenness.

After transforming into a snake, Odin glides through the hole. Baugi, on his last attempt to change his opinion he tries to drill the snake’s tail when he is about to disappear, but fails. Once inside the mountain, Odin seduces Gunnlod, who guards the honey mead, and spends three nights with her. He persuades her to allow him take three swigs of the honey mead, one for each night with her; that is everything Odin needs to empty the three recipients. After that, he turns into an eagle and flies through Asgard. Suttung watches him escape and follows him, also as an eagle. When they see Odin, the Aces bring recipients to Asgard’s yard as they were told. Odin vomits the honey mead, but Suttung follows him closely and excretes unnoticing some of the liquid. That part isn’t picked up, it is left for whoever wants it.

Odin offers the gods the picked up honey mead, and whoever tastes it becomes a consummated poet; but whoever tastes the excreted honey mead only composes bad verses. And with Suttung, some versions say that, after reaching Asgard’s walls, the sun rays touched him and took his eagle disguise away, making him fall to the floor. In others, the gods light a fire that burns his wings, he falls to the ground and dies.

That’s all for today, Hyperborea Exists followers, for the next update I have prepared an introduction to many tales about the descendents of the gods like Freyr or Thor.

Note. You can find some of the info included in this series of chapters in the book Mythology/: Myths, Legends and Fantasies/ by Global Book Publishing, a great work to introduce yourselves into the general
mythology of every culture in the world.

History of Nordic Mythology VI: Odin, Overlord of all gods

Dear “Hyperborea Exists” followers, another week I’m with you with my lesson about the history of Nordic Mythology. Today, at last, we begin my favorite part of this series of updates, speaking of the most important Nordic gods and, of course, Odin, the Great Father, is the chosen one to start this series of updates which will trigger the end of this cycle in “Hyperborea Exists”.

Odin, Overlord of all gods

The god Odin was the most popular of the Germanic gods during the first millennia of the Christian era. Known as Woden by the Anglo-Saxons,  Wodan by the German and Saxon tribes and by the Long bards (?) as Godan, he was considered as the mythical ancestor of most Germanic tribes, as well as of some early Middle Age royal Anglo-Saxon  families. In fact, if we take a look at the present day, the word “Wednesday” comes from Odin (Woden).

Thor fights against the Jotun, by Martes Winge (1825-1896). Thor leads the fight against the giants (the Jotun). Echoes of thunder accompany the cart, driven by magic goats. He uses his Belt of Strength and often he wears iron gauntlets on his wrists which allow him to use his hammer.

In spite of this, he was long before considered as a god of healing, magic, runes and knowledge, and also as the god of death, war and destiny, but on top he was known as the great father of the Nordic gods. Anyways, his followers also knew of the ambiguities of this god, because they knew that in the battle he could lead those who worshipped him to victory or death.

Odin and the Runes

The poem Hávamál, from Iceland, which as was written wasn’t picked up until the XII century, along with the “Edda in prose” from the XIII century, bring us a poetic although powerful version of how the god Odin became the first to acquire the knowledge of the runes, that is to say, with the power and use of writing. In both works, Odin himself speaks and declares that he got the runes hanging from <>. As a result of these nine days of fasting, he learned the nature of the runes better.

Rune, Uppsala, s. XI, by Gamlta Torget. Germanic mythology gave great valor to the writing, which was runic. This knowledge was acquired with suffering. Odin, father of the gods, suffered nine days of fasting and pain to reach is knowledge. 

This episode, known as the self-sacrifice of Odin, is similar, although only on the surface, to Christ’s sacrifice, by having remained hung and also by the wound of the spear. According to some, this could suggest an early adoption of the main Christian myth by the ancient Nordics, maybe through the British islands. Despite this, numerous similar forms of sacrifice in the initiation in numerous archaic cultures can be found. Its origin might be linked with more clarity to the shamanistic initiation rites in the learning of poetry and magic.

Viking stone engraving found in Gotland, Sweden, s. VIII. This stone represents the god Odin (Wodan) assisted by the Valkyries, on his eight-legged hose Sleipnir, the most magnificent of all horses. He is the one who takes the brave fallen to Valhalla.

A little more about the Runes

Germanic tribes had an alphabet made up by 24 “letters” called runes. The most antique findings of runic inscriptions come theoretically from the II century, I mean theoretically because it’s possible that they were being used from long before that (and more with special attention to investigations which will be published this year). Since the Germanic people didn’t know the scroll, the runes were carved in wood, stone and bone, which could explain its angular form. They can also be found in ornaments, swords, armors and coins.

Runic stone found in Rok, Sweden, IX century. This stone was carved by Varin as a memorial of his dead son Vemod and contains an ode to Theodoric, King of the Goths. The runs have a meaning by themselves, combined and following a certain order. In the myths, eighteen runes were revealed to Odin. 

It’s been suggested that the Runes could have evolved from the Latin tongue after contact with the Romans, but there is no proof of that. The word “rune” means “mystery” or “secret” in old Nordic, and that’s why it has been associated often with magic, along with profane and religious purposes.

With this explanation finishes today’s update, which I hope has been useful to you in knowing Odin and the Nordic runes. In the next “Hyperborea Exists” update, I will focus myself in telling you one of the most fascinating tales about Odin and the Nordic gods: The myth of the honey mead.

See you soon, “Hyperborea Exists” followers!

Note. You can find some of the info included in this series of chapters in the book Mythology/: Myths, Legends and Fantasies/ by Global Book Publishing, a great work to introduce yourselves into the general
mythology of every culture in the world.