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| Mythography Forums > Greek Mythology > How Ugly Was Hephaestos Really |
| Posted by: Lottika December 28, 2006 | 11:59 GMT |
| It has been on my mind for a while, how ugly the blacksmith god really could've been. OK he was disabled after a fall from Olympos, but how about the said ugliness. I mean all the gods were described as "beatiful" and he did after all inherited his parents look. Perhaps in a "bad" combination (whatever that one can have been) but if he looked "normal"in the eyes of a mortal like you and me, perhaps he was considered ugly in the eyes of the gods who had higher standards. Or perhaps it wasn't really so much about the looks (and genes) as in the general appearence, perhaps he was dirty, smelly and work-clad most of the time, not bothering with the metrosexuality of gods like Apollo. |
| Posted by: Grazacham December 30, 2006 | 2:27 GMT |
| I don't think there is any testimony that Hephaestus was actually ugly, of face, that is. Sure he was deformed, either congenitally, or as a result of being thrown out of heaven. What seems clear is that the goddesses, in particular, and women, in general, weren't attracted to him. Otherwise, he'd have had more children. Among his recorded children are the Cabiri, who may have been dwarfs. Is it possible the Greek gods were proto-eugenists? The Greeks certainly believed that guilt carried over the generations; it's a no-brainer that deformity and 'ugliness' were also reaped from the seed. |
| Posted by: LaFrida January 5, 2007 | 21:29 GMT |
| I don't think Hephaistos' sparce amount of kids had anything to do with not being physically attractive. When push comes to show most women past their teens look for other things, like influence, wealth et cetera, and Hephaistos lacked nothing of that. I think it was more like he was a workaholic compared to most of the other Olympians, save for perhaps Zeus and Athena. He was busy in the forge from morning to late night, creating everything from delicate jewelry to heavy arms and olympic palaces. After all he was married but didn't even have time for his wife, Aphrodite she had to go see her brother-in-law to get her pleassures. (Well Zeus DID have time for women but that's another story. He TOOK himself time most likely) |
| Posted by: Grazacham January 9, 2007 | 7:10 GMT |
| You could be right, Frida. Perhaps he was such a workaholic he only allowed himself the time it took to pleasure himself. I suspect his technique with the ladies was not up to scratch. Consider his ineffectual (ultimately, violent) attempt to possess Athene, and how his child, the serpent-man, Erichtonius, resulted from his spilling his seed. Onanism was probably a way of life for him. And, maybe this deformed god would have defended the practice in the spirit of the Woody Allen character who described it as, "Sex with someone I love". |
| Posted by: LaFrida January 9, 2007 | 21:54 GMT |
| Correct, and perhaps his way of getting pleased had to do with a tad of bad self confidence. That marriage between H & A, oh how I'd love to hear just some exchange of words between them about who did what and with whom and why the.... There is that "net" story of course, showing that H at least cared and was bothered by A's manizing (is that a word- well it must be since womanizing is :o) ) but if it was because he cared about A herself or just his reputation remains unanswered, just as Hera's behaviour when Zeus had been out on the wild side. |
| Posted by: Grazacham January 30, 2007 | 13:48 GMT |
| I think some posts were lost when they restored the forum after the virus infection. I had cited further evidence of the questionable quality of Hephaestus' seed; namely, the infirmity of his son, Periphetes, who grew up with crippled legs, and took it out on travellers whom he killed with his crutch. Perhaps Aphrodite went with Ares to avoid giving birth to a crippled child by her husband. |
| Posted by: Rich January 31, 2007 | 1:59 GMT |
| I lost a neat post in here myself. http://www.theoi.com/Olympios/Hephaistos.html Haphestus is sometimes compared to Ptah in Egypt. Sometimes called a midget. He appears in the Plato myth with the "National Deity of the Field". Bury translates National Deity of the Field as "Ge"... it is probably Ceres or IO in the plato myth. It could even be Ptah and Neith. There is supposedly a picture from Sais of Neith standing next to a midget who could be Haephestus. ************** Cinyras in Cyprus is also compared with Haphestus. Haphestus is a complicated god who I haven't figued out yet. Newton talks about Cinyras and says he is Baal-Cannan or Vulcan. His wife is Aphrodite Urania.... daughter of the muse Urania. She lives on Cyprus. His son Gingris was deified as Adonis. |
| Posted by: Rich January 31, 2007 | 2:48 GMT |
| Island of Haephestos is Lemnos. It has a city Haephestia. It also has a city Myrina. The origin of Haephaestos on this island is unclear. Maybe Kabira daughter of Proetus has something to do with this? ************** http://www.theoi.com/Nymphe/NympheKabeiro.html "mountain Kabeiros in Berekynthia [in Mysia]" ... "Kadmilos the son of Kabeiro and Hephaistos" ... "Kabeiroi are most honored in Imbros and Lemnos, but they are also honored in separate cities of the Troad; their names, however, are kept secret. Herodotos says that there were temples of the Kabeiroi in Memphis" |
| Posted by: Grazacham January 31, 2007 | 11:00 GMT |
| On the Kaberoi, have a look at http://www.mythography.com/forums/index.php?showtopic=1532&hl=cabiri |
| Posted by: Kice Brown January 31, 2007 | 21:35 GMT | ||
In his book Comparative Mythology, a treatise on Indo-European mythologies, Jaan Puhvel mentions something that's been "jabbing" at my mind ever since this thread began:
The names of both Hephaistos and Ares (the latter both as Ares and as Enyalios) are attested from Mykenaian-era inscriptions. The problem is that although I obviously recalled the ubiquity of deformity as an aspect of the smith deity -- enough so to search until I found Puhvel's reference above, I don't recall any comprehensive review of the issue, with perhaps some understanding of why smith gods should as a rule be portrayed as deformed, or dwarf/gnome-like. Sometimes I wonder if it's associated with the primitive (albeit sacred) technology of mining and smelting the ore, specifically with the biophysical dangers that must have been associated with such magical accomplishments. Perhaps an analogous situation would be the mercury poisoning involved in the 19th century processing of the leather for men's hats -- poisoning that resulted in the type-specimen portrayed by Alice's "Mad Hatter". Well, I'll keep looking ... |
| Posted by: Grazacham February 1, 2007 | 17:17 GMT |
| Robert Graves, in his Greek Myths offers (or records) the suggestion that smiths were hobbled so as to prevent them from running off and joining other tribes, much as slave owners hobbled slaves who ran away and were caught. |
| Posted by: Grazacham February 1, 2007 | 17:46 GMT | ||
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dazbog |
| Posted by: Winter Rose February 1, 2007 | 19:43 GMT |
| Well everybody regards Hephaestos as the crippled one by the gods. But at least to me he comes off as one of the most sensible ones. How about the mental crippleness of some of the others? * Ares' bloodlust? * Zeus' constant womanizing, what was he searching for? He could have had sex within the marriage, was he so unsure of himself and needed confirmation that he was the sex god all the time? * Dionysos I bet he was an alcoholic and he tended to have bad influences on the people around him * Artemis', Hesita's and Athena's fear of intimacy with men. What had happened to them when they were young? Abuses wiped under the carpet? * Apollo who simply seem like being unintelligent and had hard to bound to other people * Hera's constant jealousy, not without ground of course, but she did not manage to handle her temper nevertheless, and taking out her angers on innocents. And that's just some. A physical handicap seems far better than what crippled the other gods. |
| Posted by: Kice Brown February 2, 2007 | 16:07 GMT | ||
| Thanks Grazacham; that website on "Lame Dazbog" was fascinating. I decided I needed to review a summary of information on Hephaistos, and so turned to the section (2.11) on Hephaistos in Walter Burkert's Greek Religion (1977 German; 1985 English):
I tend to think of ancient smithcraft (widely, including functions from mining or finding the ores, through their smelting into pure and composite metal(s) and their shaping into specific forms, to the articulation of these distinct forms into a constructed implement) as shamanic in origin -- not only as a whole but also individually. An apprentice smith would not only been tutored in the skills of the craft but also would have undergone shamanesque rituals of passage, some of which might well have involved self-sacrifice to a degree (e.g. resulting often in lameness or crippling of the feet -- a payment of one's agility afoot for perfecting one's "agility" with the hands: one's "ability" to craft perfection). |
| Posted by: Kice Brown February 4, 2007 | 0:13 GMT | ||
| I began to look at other peoples' smith gods/heroes by checking some entries in James MacKillop's Dictionary of Celtic Mythology, published by Oxford Univ Press. One perspective that he brought to my attention was the difference between the concept of smith and of craftsman. This is also something to pursue in the Greek mythos, for instance the differentiation between Hephaistos and Daidalos (irrespective of one being a god and the other a hero). Also Athena is a deity of craftspersons, and she too (of course) has an interesting association both in cult and myth with Hephaistos. Also, above Burkert emphasizes the buffoonery of Hephaistos serving nektar at the Olympian assembly, (rightly I believe) assuming Hephaistos to have taken up this task that otherwise is that of Ganymedes or Hebe in order to defuse the tense antagonism between Zeus and Hera, seemingly about to erupt into full battle. Yet one of MacKillop's entries, in discussing a Celtic smith deity whose hospitality includes the serving of a nektar-like drink (i.e. one conferring something like immortality), relates this to Hephaistos' serving nektar to the gods. None of these smith figures seems to be lame, and only one is sometimes identified as a dwarf. More common, in fact, is an association of the smith with healing arts; this association is likely a relict of the shamanism from which both the smith and the healer/"medicine man" evolved. So here are a set of entries from the Dictionary of Celtic Mythology:
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| Posted by: Grazacham February 4, 2007 | 2:46 GMT |
| The Celtic comparisons are interesting in another way. Dian Cécht, the "leech" -- as he is sometimes decorously called, meaning somewhat paradoxically that he was a doctor (sounds like 'Deadwood'-speak) -- killed his son, Miach for getting above himself. Goibniu, the smith god, killed Rúadan, as he might have been expected to dispatch a son. Hephaestus' fall from grace, out of heaven that is, is exactly the kind of indignity a knowledge god should have inflicted on his son. Recall how Daedalus is resposible for Icarus' fall, to put a construction on the event. So Hephaestus is seemingly living out the experience of father and son. That he has a problem with his feet tallies with other fated souls like Oedipus ("swollen-foot") and Achilleus with his heel, that is, souls who fall mortally into this world. Hephastus is vunerable and should have died for it, but the Greek gods were not allowed to die so he was made fun of instead. Funnily enough, Hephaestus' most elemental expression, when he turned back the River Scamandros as fire, resulting in the Theomachia, the battle of the gods, elicits laughter from Zeus -- surely the most superior contempt Hormer conferred on the king of the gods, showing how removed divinty can be from the living and dying that was the subject of Homer's song. |
| Posted by: Kice Brown February 4, 2007 | 5:55 GMT | ||
O'Brien, in her Transformation of Hera, argues that Hephaistos replaced Typhon|Typhoeus in the Iliad's theomachia. I start quoting somewhat before...
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| Posted by: Kice Brown February 4, 2007 | 17:30 GMT | ||||||||||
| I forgot to note that the Skamandros and the Xanthos are alternate names for the same river flowing near Troy (coming from Mt. Ida IIRC). In an introduction to the Celtic material I quoted above, I mentioned the division between smith and craftsman, and suggested that in Greek mythology that division also occurred, one example being between Hephaistos and Daidalos. They come together, briefly, in a section of the Iliad's description of the shield of Achilleus (18.478-607) that Hephaistos forges at Thetis' request. In his Companion to the Iliad, Malcolm Willcock writes
By the way, Willcock takes note of the lines just preceding the description of the shield (lines 474-477) -- in Lattimore's translation (which Willcock cites throughout): He cast on the fire bronze which is weariless, and tin with it and valuable gold, and silver, and thereafter set forth upon its standard the great anvil, and gripped in one hand the ponderous hammer, while in the other he grasped the pincers. Willcock:
The connection between Hephaistos and Daidalos occurs late in the description of the Shield's designs. Willcock writes:
Here are the lines 590-605 from Lattimore's translation:
My discussion has evolved. It began with my grabbing Kerényi's Dionysos from its shelf nearby, intending to post passages from his discussion of Daidalos. But while leafing through the volume on my way to these passages I came upon the following:
This is certainly not the first time I've taken not of these lines. In fact I have them preserved on my "symbol" WORD® document that I use for "importing" Greek letters and other symbols into Mythography's text entry boxes. Yet this is the first time that I made a connection between the honey and Ariadne's dance floor; for the words evoked memories from my early biological education (specifically my Invertebrate Zoology class -- about 1963 -- at Occidental College in LA with professor P. Wells, whose research was the dance language of the honey bee). The dance language of the honey bee, first described by Karl von Frisch, is still controversial (see 'The Elusive Honey Bee Dance "Language" Hypothesis.' 2002. Journal of Insect Behavior 15:859-878, by Adrian Wenner, one of the colleagues of my professor, Dr. Wells), specifically with regard to whether it actually is a language that a scout worker bee uses to direct other bees to a nectar source. The hypothesis is that a reversing circle or round dance is used for sources relatively close to the hive and for sources further away what's variously described as a figure-8 dance or a circle dance bisected by a line dance (at a specific angle to line of polarization of the sunlight) during which the bee waggles her abdomen producing a sound the frequency of which provides distance information. As Wenner notes, experimental verification of the information content of these bee dances is ambiguous. The problem is generally not that the scientists can identify the floral source of the nectar the worker is bringing back to the hive, but it remains questionable whether the other bees "understand" the dance and thus go straight to that floral source. BUT, that controversy is not important for us. WHAT IS IMPORTANT is that through the centuries during which honey mead was a sacred, intoxicating drink for the Cretans -- before its replacement with wine -- those dedicated to the husbandry of honey (i.e. "beekeepers") would quite likely have observed the "labyrinthine" dance of the bees. Thus the insight evoked by re-seeing the words "λαβυρινθοιο ποτνιαι μελι" was that the dance performed on the "Ariadne's dance floor" mimicked the dances of the honeybees. My subsequent examination (through Willcock and Lattimore's translation) of the dance described by Homer only strengthened my conviction that this was its major source. Well, I began this posting as I mentioned with the intent of including passages from Kerényi's discussion of Daidalos. Perhaps it's not so inappropriate that this discussion has meandered, n'est-ce pas? I will have to post the passages on Daidalos in a subsequent reply. |
| Posted by: Kice Brown February 4, 2007 | 21:07 GMT | ||||
It turns out that if I start the passages from Kerényi's Dionysos a little before where I had planned to begin, he adds some credence to my hypothesis of Cretan dances emulating those performed by bees.
One wonders at how similar the "winding and unwinding" dance of the human dancers was to the "reversing circle" dance of the honeybees. Kerényi continues...
Thus the name "Daidalos" for a skilled craftsman evolved from the word (daidalon) describing an object skillfully crafted |
| Posted by: Kice Brown February 7, 2007 | 0:23 GMT | ||
| We first meet the smith "Wayland" or "Volund" (the latter name Old Norse) in an Anglo-Saxon poem, Deor's Lament, which is cited by Lee M. Hollander in his The Poetic Edda, "translated with an introduction and explanatory notes by Lee M. Hollander." The citation occurs in his short introduction to Volundarkviða, "the Lay of Volund." Holland notes that Deor's Lament "is preserved in a manuscript of the eleventh century, but is manifestly much older." He presents the following lines from the poem's beginning: Wayland learned bitterly banishment's way, earl right resolute; ills endured; had for comrades Care and Longing, winter-cold wanderings; woe oft suffered when Nidhad forged the fetters on him, bending bonds on a better man. That he surmounted: so this may I! Beaduhild mourned her brothers' death, less sore in soul than herself dismayed when her plight was plainly placed before her-- birth of a bairn. No brave resolve might she ever make, what the end should be. That she surmounted: so this may I! Also earlier than the edda, is a scene of the death of Beaduhild's brothers on the Franks Casket, "generally referred to the seventh century." "The brief glimpses of nature vouchsafed us in the poem leave little doubt that the poem originated in Norway. Both metre -- a free fornyrðislag -- and treatment place it among the earliest in The Edda; that is, perhaps, the ninth century. And this may account also in some degree for the sad condition of the text. It is preserved only in the Codex Regius." I thought I'd begin by quoting the prose introduction to the Volundarkviða, from Hollander's translation, and then discuss the included story rather than quote the poetic portion itself. In addition to making use of Hollander's notes I may at times refer (especially for his somewhat different transliterations of Old Norse names) to Cassell's Dictionary of North Myth & Legend by Andy Orchard. His entry on Völund is essentially drawn from the Völundarkvida.
Níthoth is "Grim Warrior" (O.E. Nidhad). Orchard's transliteration is Nídud. Bothvild is "War-Maiden" (O.E. Beaduhild). Orchard: Bödvild. Slagfith is "Finn-Smith". Orchard: Slagfid. Slagfith's wife, Hlathguth the Swanwhite, is in Orchard's transliteration: Hladgud Svanhvít. Hollander identifies Hlathguth as meaning "the Necklace-adorned Warrior-Maiden." Volund (note for Orchard Völund) is, in OE Weland and in OHG Walant, Welant. Hollander notes "The name has not yet received a satisfactory explanation. It may be connected with Old Norse vél, 'craft.'" His wife, Hervor the Allwise, is according to Orchard: Hervör Alvitr. Orchard writes "The meaning of the second element of her name is the subject of some dispute: current suggestions include 'all-wise' or, on the pattern of Old English œlwiht, 'strange creature'." Hollander identifies Hervor as meaning "the Warder of the Host." Olrún (Orchard: Ölrún) is "Ale Rune". Hollander suggests "the One Knowing Ale Runes." Hollander also notes "The motif of the swanskins is but faintly stressed here. By taking the skins away, the brothers obtain possession of the maidens; but their departure is due, here, not to their regaining the swanskins, as one might expect, but to the inborn longing to be valkyries again. King Hlothvér (Orchard: Hlödver), Hollander identifies as "corresponding to the Frankish King, Chlodowech, as Kíar may correspond to King Kiarval [Cearbhall] of Valland (here meaning "Wales"); or possibly, it may be derived drom Cæsar." (Orchard: Kjár). I'll continue with more later this evening. |
| Posted by: Kice Brown February 7, 2007 | 5:48 GMT | ||||||||||||||
| It should be quite clear that Hollander spells names with "th" when we would often normally expect to see a "d": thus Volund's brother is Slagfith rather than Slagfid, and likewise Óthin rather than Odin. In the following I'll try to remember to spell names the more standard way with "d", except when quoting Hollander's translation. So, Slagfid, the Finn smith, seems almost a double (perhaps originally an epithet) of Volund. Orchard points out that not only smiths but the Finns themselves had reputation for being magical. And the two brothers marry Valkyrie swan-maidens that are themselves sisters. Egil seems the odd brother out; if anything he has a reputation for being an archer rather than a smith, and though he too weds a Valkyrie swan-maiden, she is not sister to his brothers' wives. Nevertheless, both brothers disappear "from the stage" after their wives depart during their eighth winter together while the "weather-wise" brothers are hunting in the forest. Egil sought for his Valkyrie wife to the east, while Slagfid sought for his wife to the south. Volund waited back in Wolfdales for his Valkyrie wife to return. Nídud and his warriors came to Volund's hall while Volund was out hunting...
Hollander notes "They take no more than one ring (which probably had magic power) in order not to arouse suspicion. Fearing the supernatural strength of Volund -- he is termed a lord of the alfs -- they mean to overcome him sleeping, and so lie in wait for him until he returns weary from the chase." In Hollander's translation Volund is termed "the alf's folk-warder" in the passage above, and later Nídud calls him once "lord of alfs" and once "alfs' leader" -- so Volund is definitely considered, as an elf, otherworldly. The golden armring Nídud takes he presents to his daughter Bödvild, and he takes Volund's sword for himself. Back in his own hall, Nídud's unnamed queen warns him about Volund:
Sævarstath (Orchard: Sævarstad) is 'Sea Stead'. With this hamstringing Volund becomes even more crippled than Hephaistos, for he cannot walk at all, but would have to crawl about using his arm strength, and sit (not stand) at the forge. Nídud's (also unnamed) young sons one day arrive (accompanied by their nurses) with desire to look at all the precious and wondrous objects Volund had made that were kept in "the chest." Volund convinces them to return the next day alone to see "the gleaming gold":
Hollander notes this is the scene pictured on the Franks Casket. He also notes that in Thiðreks saga (a quite late conflation of many "hero's tales") "Volund tells the boys to return when fresh snow has fallen, and to walk backwards to the door. After their disappearance, Volund is suspected but clears himself by showing the tracks leading from his door." Volund covers their skulls with silver and presents them to Nídud as drinking vessels. He creates shining beads from their eyeballs and "gave to the cunning queen of Níthoth," and sent "beauteous brooches" made from their teeth to Bödvild. Next, Bödvild herself comes to Volund to have the golden armring repaired.
Orchard quotes these lines (from a different translation) identifying the drink as "beer." This is all that's said at this point in the poem, which continues:
Hollander thinks there may be lines missing here, basically saying that though I cannot use my hamstrung feet, I've forged me wings, and I'll fly with my strong arms. Orchard points out that Thiðreks saga does report that Volund manufactured the wings himself. Here, clearly he escapes from his smithy prison in the same manner that Daidalos escaped from his smithy prison. Volund flies to Nídud's hall, and perches high there to taunt the king. Seeing him there Nídud speaks...
Finally, I found another passage in Kveldulf Gundarsson's Teutonic Religion:
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| Posted by: Kice Brown February 9, 2007 | 5:10 GMT | ||||
| Sometimes one wonders how precise or accurate certain translators are. Hollander's is my only translation of The Poetic Edda, and in looking for some other translations to order, I noticed his translation being criticized for emphasizing poetry over precision. I'll see how different the versions I've ordered are. In the meantime I've noted Bellow's translation of the Volundarkvitha (from his Poetic Edda, at the following website: http://www.waylands.net/public/smithy/volund.htm He points out the prose sections as the composition of an annotator(s), who also added the various indications of who is speaking. The poem itself is (perhaps much) older than these annotations. Bellows argues that it is only the annotator who identifies the three swan-maiden wives as valkyries, in addition to being swan-maidens. His translation of the poem differs considerably from Hollander's in avoiding any reference to valkyries, direct or indirect, in reference to the wives. Indeed this is clear from the very first stanza of the poem. Hollander's translation:
Bellows' translation:
That the brothers were sons of the King of the Finns, Bellows also points out as a contention of the annotator(s), noting again their reputation for being magical. In the poem Volund is always identifed as elvin, indeed the epithet(s) that Hollander translates as "lord of alfs" and as "alfs' leader", Bellows translates as "greatest of elves." I was mistaken above when I mentioned that neither brother is noted after they leave Wolfdale ("Ulfdalir") to search for their swan-wives. Though not noted in this poem, Egil the archer somehow comes to Volund's aid. In Thiðreks saga Egil is said to have shot down the birds whose feathers Volund used in manufacturing his wings. Indeed the 7th century Franks casket interestingly has a carved scene of hamstrung Volund sitting at his smithy with Egil outside shooting arrows up towards the sky and another carved scene (labeled due to its lesser familiarity) of the adoration of the Magi. One thing that had struck me is how similar is the concept of Volund donning his self-made wings to fly and the swan-maidens donning their swanskins to fly. Both may resolve to feather-adorned shaman (and shamanka) robes, donned before a ritual journey to the spirit-world. Indeed, this may have been the ultimate source for Daidalos' wings and flight. |
| Posted by: Grazacham February 9, 2007 | 15:29 GMT | ||
The shield of Achilles is usually envisaged by scholars with it's scenes arranged in concentric circles, presumably on the model of the shield of Agamemnon (Iliad 2:32-7) which had "ten circles of bronze upon it". This means the fifth circle corresponds to the rim of the shield, on which we’re told Oceanus was represented. Given the only kind of shield design that might have been contemporary with Homer would have been executed in the Geometric style, the obvious way to represented Oceanus on the rim would have been with a meander. I find it interesting that, as described by Homer, the dance scene was placed next to the rim in the fourth circle. (Can’t imagine what kind of Geometric "filling" device would have symbolized dance, though.) |
| Posted by: Kice Brown February 15, 2007 | 5:53 GMT | ||||||||||||||||||
| I received by UPS two additional translations: (1) Poems of the Elder Edda, Revised Edition, translated by Patricia Terry (1969; 1990). (ISBN 0-8122-8220-5) AND (2) The Poetic Edda: A new translation by Carolyne Larrington (1996) (ISBN 0-19-283946-2). Whereas Bellows translates the first stanza of the Lay of Volund (see above) without any suggestion the flying maidens are valkyries (recall he argues that the representation the swan-maidens were also valkyries was a conception of the annotator (in prose) and not apparent in the earlier originally orally transmitted poem), Terry's translation does carry the implication:
On the other hand, Larrington's translation agrees more with Bellows':
Another stanza Hollander translates thus:
So too, Terry:
While both these translations would belie Bellows contention the poem does not characterize the swan-maidens as valkyries, again Bellows and Larrington's translations offer no implication of that. Bellows:
Larrington:
Clearly the phrases (apparently found in both stanzas) that Hollander and Terry translate as referring to war or battle, Bellows and Larrington translate as referring to a personal fate. Note that all these translators, in translating the annotator's prose introduction to the Lay of Volund, do refer to the maidens as valkyries and to battle: Hollander: "Early one morn they found by the shore three women who were spinning flax. By them lay their swanskins, for they were valkyries. . . . Thus dwelled they seven years. Then flew they away to be at battles, and did not return." Bellows: "Early one morning they found on the shore of the lake three women, who were spinning flax. Near them were their swan-garments, for they were Valkyries. . . . There they dwelt seven winters; but then they flew away to find battles, and came back no more." Terry: "Early one morning they found on the shore three women who were spinning flax. Their swanskins were lying beside them. They were valkyries; . . . They lived together for seven years. Then the valkyries flew away to go to battles, and didn't come back." Larrington: "Early in the morning, they found three women on the shore, and they were spinning linen. Near them were their swan's garments; they were valkyries. . . . They lived together seven winters. Then the women flew off to go to a battle and did not come back." Terry's translation of Volund's epithets are "The Master of Elves" and "Elf King" and "Lord of Elves." Larrington translates these, in order, as "Prince of Elves" and "Lord of Elves" and again "Prince of Elves." Following her translation of the Lay of Volund, Terry provides this information:
In the stanza where Volund seduces and rapes Bödvild, Larrington annotes the phrase (in her translation) overcame her with beer, by noting the "scene is illustrated on the eighth-century whalebone box known as the Franks Casket, which can be seen in the British Museum." Larrington's translation of the stanza in which Volund then takes flight is rather unique among the four translations:
The other translations all have Volund (recall he had been hamstrung at Nidud's orders) wishing he could walk -- apparently an ironic or sarcastic statement (to Bödvild?) since then he rises into the air with (triumphant?) laughter. Hollander does footnote the line about wishing he could walk as "Conjectural." Larrington annotates her webbed feet thus "this phrase, and the crippled smith's method of escape from the island, remain obscure. It is possible that the ring which he has now recovered has some transformative power, changing Volund into a swan (hence the webbed feet), like the swan-maiden for whom it was made. The later prose account of the story Thidreks saga, has Volund's brother Egil come to his rescue, shooting down geese with his bow so that the smith can make himself wings. This scene may also be illustrated on the Franks Casket." Finally, she annotates Volund's declaration that Bödvild is with child, with "in Thidreks saga Volund returns with an army, kills Nidud, and marries Bodvild. Their son, Vidia, becomes a great Germanic hero." One final intriguing set of epithets for Volund.
Three of these translations identify Volund as "weather-wise" while the last identifies him as "weather-eyed." This epithet appears to refer to some supernatural ability Volund has -- either to alter the weather or more likely, given the joint implication of "wisdom" and "sight," to foresee the weather with accuracy -- certainly a boon to a huntsman. |