Elf King and the Names of Odin by Susan Price

As we reach mid-Winter darkness, and the feast of the Unconquered Sun, a blog full of old pagan gods, death and resurrection...

Green Man boss below crossing at Rochester Cathedral.(Akoliasnikoff)

There were three men came out of the West,

Their fortune for to try,

And they have taken a solemn oath,

John Barleycorn must die.

They've ploughed, they've sown, they've harrowed him in,

Thrown clods upon his head,

And these three men took a solemn vow,

John Barleycorn was dead.

They've let him lie for a very long time

Till the rains from heaven did fall,

Then little Sir John sprung up his head

And sore amazed them all.

They've let him stand till midsummer's day

Till he looked both pale and wan,

Then little Sir John's grown a long, long beard

And so become a man.

They've hired men with the scythes so sharp

To cut him off at the knee

They've rolled him and tied him by the waist,

Served him most barbarously...

They've hired men with the crab-tree sticks

To cut him skin from bone, 

And the miller he has served him worse than that

For he's ground him between two stones.

There's little Sir John in the nut-brown bowl,

And there's brandy in the glass,

And little Sir John in the nut-brown bowl

Proved the strongest man at last.

For the huntsman, he can't hunt the fox

Nor so loudly blow his horn,

And the tinker he can't mend kettle nor pot

Without little Sir John Barleycorn.

The lyrics of the folk-song 'John Barleycorn.'

 I've known them since I was a teenager and, in my book 'Elf King', I have the hero, Elfgift and his half-brother, Wulfweard, sing a version of this song as they raise dead warriors from their graves to form an army. Well, sometimes you really need an army.

Printed versions of this ballad date back five hundred years, to the 16^th Century, and it's often assumed, as a rough guide, that any folk-song or tale appearing in print, was probably known at least a hundred years earlier, if not before. It's also been argued that 'John Barleycorn' is a survival from paganism, since it seems to describe the sacrifice and resurrection of a corn-god who dies every winter and is reborn in the spring.

I'd love to believe it, I really would, but...

16th Century Britain -- and even 15th Century Britain -- was a long way from paganism. I'm not the only one to be unconvinced. It's been pointed out that there are many versions of this song and, in some of them, the ‘three kings’ are non-royal men who swear to kill Barleycorn because they've drunk too much of ‘the nut-brown ale’ and are suffering fierce hangovers. They kill Barleycorn in an attempt to make sure he’ll never inflict such suffering on them again— but he ‘springs up’ once more the following year, to be brewed into yet more beer that somebody has to drink. This makes it a simple drinking song, to an accompaniment of mugs bashed on tables and boots stamped on floors.

Of course, you can have it both ways and argue that it is a pagan hymn to Frey or Ing— but when these gods were forgotten or forbidden, people explained the song (or disguised it) by saying it was only about hangovers and drinking. Take your pick.

If you don’t know the song and would like to hear it, you can find many versions of it by, for instance, Martin Carthy, Steeleye Span, Jethro Tull and Winterfylleth. Here's a live performance from Steve Winwood.

Later in the book, I use a snatch from the folk-song 'Jack Orion' or 'Glasgerion.' I have it sung by a travelling harpist -- I change  'fiddle' to 'harp', naturally.

Jack Orion was as good fiddler,

As ever fiddled on a string,

And he could drive young women mad

With the tunes his wires would sing...

The name of my harpist is Ud, which happens to be one of the many, many 'eke'-names for Odin, the Norse god of War, Poetry, Sorcery and Inspiration. The Romans identified Odin with their Mercury or the Greek Hermes, who was another god with a list of jobs as long as your leg. Travellers, heralds, dog-killers, thieves, scholars, liars, the home,... you name it, Hermes was god of it.

Hermes: Wikipedia

(Come to think of it, since He's the God of thieves and liars, and the god who guided people across the threshhold into death, presumably the Tory Party pray to Hermes at every meeting. But with His 'God of scholars, heralds and "all those who earn their living by words" hat on, I hope Hermes sets His snakes on them.)

Woden and Wood

The Norse god, Odin, was Woden to the Saxons, and Wednesday is His day. (The Black Country town a few miles from me, Wednesbury, is Woden's Fortified Place -- borough, bury and burg mean 'fortress town.')

Odin or Woden is the name this god is most often known by, but it's yet another 'eke-name', or nick-name.

In A Midsummer Night's Dream,  Shakespeare has  Demetrius say, 

And here am I and wood within this wood,

Because I cannot meet my Hermia.

 

I'm sure that everyone who's had to 'do' Shakespeare's Dream at school, knows that this means 'mad within this wood' as Shakespeare is using an Old English word, 'wod' or 'wode', which means 'mad.'

And, as Demetrius is mad for lust, ‘wood’ may have another meaning too. Clever chap, Shakespeare.

What may not be so well known is that this old word, 'wode' is the same word as in the eke-name or nickname of Woden, which means ‘the Mad, the Raging One.’ He was a shamanistic god, associated with mind-altering substances, such as the alcohol which He gifted to mankind, and with berserker madness in battle as well as the 'madness' of inspired poets. He was the god of wisdom, willing to experience death to gain knowledge.

Great wits are sure to madness near allied,

And thin partitions do their bounds divide.

 

So said Dryden, 800 years later.

Odin was certainly not the god of choice for desperate lovers, though. (Better off trying Frey or Freyja.)  Odin was a god of battle and inspiring wars and battles was Odin's strategy for gathering an army of warriors, to fight with Him against Chaos at Ragnarok, the End of the World. (He seems to be striding about the world again, right now.)

Human sacrifices were made to Odin, by hanging -- and, in myth, Odin sacrificed Himself to Himself, hanging Himself from Yggdrasil, the World Tree. This earned Him the by-name, The Hanged God. (The name of the great ash at the centre of the world, Yggdrasil, means 'Odin's Horse'. Ygg (Terrible One) is yet another name for Odin, and 'drasil' means 'horse.' ) At the end of a rope, He rode the tree into death.

At the foot of Yggdrasil is a pool of water, or a well. Beside it live the Norns, the Norse Fates. Drinking from this magical pool brings insight. It often turns up in later folk-lore and fairy-tales as 'The Well at the World's End.' Odin bought more wisdom by paying for a drink from this well, the price being one of His eyes. This gave Him yet more eke-names: One-Eye and Blinded One.

He’s imagined as an older man, so He’s called Grey-Beard. His weapon and symbol was a spear, so He’s called Spear Carrier. Because He travelled so much, wandering over the earth and between worlds, He’s called Walker, Wanderer and ‘Way-Weary.’

In another likeness to Hermes, Odin was usually described dressed as a traveler, wearing a broad-brimmed hat, or a hood, pulled low to hide His missing eye. This gave Him the names ‘Broad Hat’ and ‘Old Hood’. His cloak and hat are usually said to be blue, because blue was associated with death. (In the Icelandic Sagas, if it's mentioned that someone is dressed in blue, you can be sure that bloodshed and murder is on its way.)

In the ballads of the Scottish Border, recorded hundreds of years after the introduction of Christianity, a character sometimes turns up called ‘Old Carl Hood.’

‘Then in came he, Old Carl Hood

Who comes always for ill and never for good.’ 

‘Carl’ is an old word meaning ‘man.’  This ill-intentioned, old man, hooded as Odin usually was, is said to be a folk-memory of Odin, come in disguise, to stir up strife and ill-feeling (leading to wars and so to more harvests of heroes). I suppose, if such a memory of Odin could survive over a thousand years to be written down in the 19th and 20th centuries by collectors of old ballads, it's remotely possible that 'John Barleycorn' is a distant memory of a hymn to Frey. But I still doubt it.

Odin was also called ‘the Treacherous God’ because He always broke the promises He made to His followers. As a god of war, the promise He made was to bring His followers victory.

But Odin's secret agenda was always to add to His army of dead heroes. He promised victory but what the devious deity really wanted was your death in battle. And what if the leaders on both sides worshipped Odin? Only one of them could be victorious.

An Einherjar and a berserk? (Public Domain)

If you asked Odin for victory, He might grant it— for a time. For as long as it suited His plans. But sooner or later He was going to send His Einherjar, his ghost warriors, and His Valkyries, to ensure your death on the battlefield. When you made your pact with Odin, you had to accept that, whatever favours He granted you, He would always, in the end, betray you.

As a way of approaching life, it makes sense.

Woden/Odin survived in folk-lore as the leader of the Wild Hunt, pursuing lost souls through the night. Perhaps, originally, he wasn't hunting the lost souls, but escorting them to His hall, Valhalla (Hall of the Fallen). One of the reasons that the Romans identified Him with their Mercury was that Mercury was a 'pyscho-pomp': that is, a god or supernatural being who guides the souls of the newly dead to the next world.

Personally, I think I'd rather be met by Hermes/Mercury, who's always seemed a friendly, understanding sort, than by 'The Raging One.'

*

'The day of my death and the manner of my dying were fated long ago.'

ELFGIFT, the elf's bastard and the Goddess' darling, fights to keep his throne.

Elfking in paperback                                      ElfKing in ebook    

         

To read about the first book, ELFGIFT, click here