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- Herausgeber: tredition
- Kategorie: Geisteswissenschaft
- Sprache: Englisch
What significance do the ancient myths of our ancestors have today, and what do they have to do with the challenges of the present? Far more than many believe. In times when social and political uncertainty increases or technological developments rapidly transform our world, these ancient stories are once again gaining attention. This book impressively demonstrates that myths are far more than romantic tales from past centuries. They are coded instructions for action in times of crisis—and those who read them correctly will discover strategies for courage, responsibility, and change. The author combines sound cultural-historical knowledge with modern analysis and makes it clear: The ancient stories of Valhalla, Siegfried, and the gods of the Edda are not just cultural heritage, but practical guidance in turbulent times. They remind us that it is the individual who makes decisions when the community begins to hesitate. They show how to create order out of chaos and why forgetting these stories is a danger to every society. This book is aimed at readers interested in myths, history, and cultural memory—and at all those seeking guidance in the present. Anyone who wants to learn why our ancient stories should not only be passed on, but also understood and utilized, will find inspiration, food for thought, and concrete impulses for action here. An indispensable work for all who see in ancient myths not only the past, but also the guideposts for a self-determined future. Hermann Selchow
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Seitenzahl: 376
Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2025
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The heirs of legends -
German myths in the mirror of present
"You must expand into the wide,
If the world to you shall provide;
Into the depths you must descend,
If essence shall to you extend."
F. Schiller
© 2025 Hermann Selchow
Druck und Distribution im Auftrag des Autors:
tredition GmbH, Heinz-Beusen-Stieg 5, 22926 Ahrensburg, Germany
Das Werk, einschließlich seiner Teile, ist urheberrechtlich geschützt. Für die Inhalte ist der Autor verantwortlich. Jede Verwertung ist ohne seine Zustimmung unzulässig. Die Publikation und Verbreitung erfolgen im Auftrag des Autors, zu erreichen unter: tredition GmbH, Abteilung "Impressumservice", Heinz-Beusen-Stieg 5, 22926 Ahrensburg, Deutschland
Kontaktadresse nach EU-Produktsicherheitsverordnung: [email protected]
The heirs of legends -
German myths in the mirror of present
Chapter
Introduction: Why myths are more than old stories
Odin, Thor and Freya - The Explanation of the World
The Birth of the Hero: Siegfried, Dietrich von Bern
Witches, mermaids and demons: Females and their legacy
The Nibelung loyalty and the German special path
Valhalla and the Twilight of the Gods in modern narratives
The forest as myth: nature, home and political romanticism
Loreley and Barbarossa as a mirror of political fears
The dialectic of myth and enlightenment
The return of old images: populism and conspiracy
The Fear of Myths: Left-Wing Ideologies and Nation
Roots and Values: Why Myths Are More Than Folklore
Forgetting makes us defenseless: debates, myths, erasure
Romanticization and the eternal search for a savior
Myths as an opportunity: memory and responsibility
The mythology of progress and the feasible
Conclusion: What we could learn for the future
Also published by me:
Introduction: Why myths are more than old stories
There are narratives that wind through the centuries like a gentle stream. They carry the voices of times long past, weaving memories, fears, desires, and attempts at explanation into artful patterns that still resonate in our minds and hearts today. We call these narratives myths. For many, they are nothing more than ancient stories, relics from a time when humans explained the world with gods, spirits, and monsters. But those who reduce them to this role overlook their true significance. Myths are far more than mere remnants from the past. They are living testimonies to human experience, expressions of universal questions, and mirrors of collective psychic landscapes. This foreword attempts to explore the essence of myths in all their depth and demonstrate why they still have something to say to us today.
Even humanity's oldest traditions are shaped by mythical thinking. From the creation myths of the Babylonians and Egyptians to the Nordic myths, the epics of Homer, and the legends of the Maya – myths arise wherever people live. They tell of beginnings and ends, of heroes and villains, of the struggle against chaos and the longing for order. Their themes are timeless, for they revolve around questions that every generation asks anew: Where do we come from? What is the meaning of life? What happens after death? What is good and what is evil? And how should humans behave in an often threatening and incomprehensible world?
In their original function, myths did not merely serve as entertainment or the transmission of traditions. They had a profoundly existential meaning. They explained natural phenomena, established social norms, and offered answers to metaphysical questions. Myths ordered the world, provided support and orientation. They were both repositories of knowledge and a moral compass. Those who knew the old stories knew how life worked—and how it shouldn't. But myths were never rigid or one-dimensional. They changed with the needs and beliefs of the societies in which they were told. Their transformability made them a flexible medium of collective self-assurance.
It took a long time for Western modernity to rediscover the value of myths. With the triumph of the Enlightenment, they were initially relegated to the realm of fables, ridiculed as naive childhood products of humanity, or dismissed as mere precursors to scientific thought. But since the 20th century at the latest, voices have been growing louder that attribute new meaning to myths. Philosophers like Ernst Cassirer, anthropologists like Claude Lévi-Strauss, and psychoanalysts like Carl Gustav Jung recognized in them expressions of deeply rooted psychological and cultural structures. For them, myths are not outdated explanatory models, but archetypal narratives in which basic patterns of human consciousness manifest themselves.
This foreword aims to illuminate the phenomenon of myth from various perspectives in a popular scientific manner, but without claiming to be definitive. The aim is to demonstrate that myths are far more than mere stories from ancient times. They are narrative tools with which humans interpret their existence, overcome fears, and make the inexplicable comprehensible. Using examples from different cultures and eras, it will be shown how myths continually reformulate certain questions of humanity and thus assert their place in the collective memory.
The fascination emanating from mythical subjects continues to the present day. Modern novels, films, computer games, and series take up classic motifs and reinterpret them. The hero's struggle against overwhelming opponents, the journey into the unknown, the temptation of evil, the search for origins – these narrative patterns appear to us today in new guises, yet their core remains the same. They address elementary experiences and emotions that permeate all times and cultures.
Studying myths opens up access to the depth psychological and cultural dimensions of human existence. It shows that we, as modern humans, are not as far removed from our ancestors as we often believe. The stories of Prometheus, who steals fire from the gods, or of Icarus, who fails because of his arrogance, reflect experiences that continue to shape us today: the desire for knowledge, the fear of punishment, the longing for freedom, the danger of hubris. Myths tell of the dark sides and the possibilities of human existence – and they do so in a visual language that often defies rational argumentation, yet has an immediate impact.
By turning to myths, we encounter not only alien worlds, but also ourselves. Their images and motifs are part of our collective unconscious; they shape our dreams, fears, and longings. Those who tell the old stories always also tell of the questions and conflicts of their own time. In this sense, myths are never truly past. They live on, change, adapt, and emerge in new forms and media. They owe their ability to survive to their complexity and their ability to capture existential themes in narrative imagery.
This foreword is intended as an invitation to a journey into the world of myths. It encourages readers not to dismiss the old stories as outdated curiosities, but to take them seriously as living testimonies to human existence. In doing so, it will consider both classical myths of antiquity and lesser-known traditions from indigenous cultures, popular culture, and the modern era. The aim is to demonstrate that mythical narrative is a universal phenomenon that functions similarly in different cultures and times – and that it also has a firm place in the seemingly rational present.
In the present, old certainties are fading, and the world is becoming increasingly complex. Yet even today, myths can provide orientation. Not because they provide simple answers, but because they pose the eternal questions and open up spaces for interpretation. They remind us that humans are not only rational but also narrative beings who organize their world in stories and create meaning. This foreword aims to contribute to understanding myth as a fundamental cultural pattern and to highlighting its significance for the present.
Odin, Thor and Freya - The Explanation of the World
In the icy mists of the ages, long before humans wrote down their first stories, the contours of a worldview were already taking shape in the far north of Europe. A worldview that spoke of mighty gods, fearsome giants, and unstoppable destiny. Norse mythology, a complex belief system of the Germanic peoples, has endured through the centuries and continues to fascinate us today with its raw energy, existential depth, and multifaceted characters.
The stories of Odin, the one-eyed Allfather; Thor, the thunder god; and Freya, the goddess of love and war, are more than mere entertainment or primitive explanations of nature from a pre-scientific age. They form a sophisticated worldview that attempts to answer the most fundamental questions of human existence: Where do we come from? What forces are at work in our world? And where does our path lead us?
These ancient tales are not only windows into the past, but also mirrors that reflect our own nature. They show us a world in which even the gods are not immortal, in which fate is inescapable, and yet in which the courage and honor of an individual can make all the difference. A world full of contradictions, conflicts, and profound wisdom—not unlike our own.
Since the dawn of humanity, humans have tried to understand the world around them. Where does thunder come from? Why do day and night alternate? Why does summer die, and why does it return? In a time without natural sciences, without microscopes, telescopes, and weather forecasts, humans were left with only the option of organizing the inexplicable through stories. These early narratives featured gods, spirits, and powerful beings who determined the course of events. This form of explaining the world is particularly impressive and vivid in the myths of the Germanic and Nordic peoples. Names like Odin, Thor, and Freya are still familiar today. But who were these figures really? What role did they play in the cosmos of early peoples, and what do they reveal about the thinking of their contemporaries?
The world of Norse myths begins with emptiness. In the cosmological conception of the Edda, the most important surviving collection of Old Norse poetry, initially nothing existed but Ginnungagap – a yawning abyss, a space between fire and ice. From this void, the first life forms emerged through the clash of the elements, initially the primordial giant Ymir and the cow Audhumbla. The emergence of these beings marks the beginning of the mythical world, an order emerging from chaos. Already at this point, it becomes clear that Norse myths are not simply naive children's fairy tales, but poetic and symbolic interpretations of the origin and meaning of existence.
Odin, often considered the supreme god of Norse mythology, embodies the insatiable desire for knowledge and power. He is not only a god of war, but also a god of poetry, wisdom, and magic. The myths tell of how he sacrificed an eye to be allowed to drink from the fountain of knowledge. This image describes more than just a heroic gesture. It refers to the willingness to pay a high price for insight and to the idea that true knowledge is always associated with loss. Odin is accompanied by the ravens Hugin and Munin – Thought and Memory – who fly through the world daily and report to him. The symbolism behind this is complex: the god as an all-seeing, all-knowing ruler, but also as a driven man who can never know enough.
Thor, on the other hand, the god of thunder, is of a different nature. With his hammer Mjölnir, he protects gods and humans from the hostile forces of the giants. Thor is a fighter, a god of strength and weather. When the sky thunders and lightning flashes, people believed Thor is fighting against the forces of chaos. The function of this figure in the mythological system is obvious: It explains the weather phenomenon and gives a face to the fear of natural forces. But Thor is more than just a natural phenomenon with a weapon. He stands for order, for the defense of the existing world against the threat of the foreign and uncontrollable.
Finally, Freya represents another realm of life: love, fertility, beauty, but also magic and war. She is one of the most complex figures in the Norse pantheon. As mistress of the Valkyries and leader of the souls of the fallen, she embodies the close connection between life and death, eroticism, and violence, which can be found in many mythical cultures. The existence of a female deity on an equal footing with the male gods points to the social importance of women in early Germanic communities and to the notion of femininity as both a source and a threat.
The emergence of these worlds of gods was not a random creative act, but the result of collective experiences, fears, and longings. In a harsh, often hostile environment, people searched for patterns and explanations. Myth was not merely a poetic embellishment, but an attempt to bring order to the unpredictable. By giving the forces of nature names and characters, they could be better understood and, ideally, influenced. Rituals and sacrificial acts were an expression of this need for control.
At the same time, the myths of the gods fulfilled a social function. They established claims to power, moral norms, and social role models. Odin, as the supreme god, representing wisdom and sacrifice, served as a role model for rulers. Thor, the powerful protector, was the ideal of the warrior and farmer who stands up for his community. Freya, as the embodiment of love, fertility, and magic, reflected female power and independence. These figures expressed ideals and fears that extended into people's everyday lives.
These myths were passed down orally for centuries. Skalds and storytellers recited them, often in poetic form, which was easier to remember due to its rhythm, rhyme, and formulaic structure. It wasn't until the Christianization of the North and the written translation by Icelandic scholars such as Snorri Sturluson in the 13th century that they took on the form we know today. But even these written versions are not neutral. They already reflect a distanced, sometimes Christian-tinged view of the ancient tales. Nevertheless, they preserve the richness of a mythical world of imagination that was more than mere fantasy.
The figures of Odin, Thor, and Freya are still present today. Their names live on in days of the week such as Wednesday (Wodan's day) and Thursday (Thor's day). In popular culture, they appear in films, novels, and comics, usually in highly simplified, heroic, or romanticized forms. Yet even in these modern tales, the old themes resonate: the fight against chaos, the price of wisdom, the power of love, and the horror of war. Thus, the myth remains alive, changing its forms, yet repeatedly recounting the same fundamental human experiences.
Norse mythology did not originate as a unified concept, but rather developed over centuries in the cultures of the Germanic peoples. From the misty fjords of Norway to the vast plains of Denmark, the dense forests of Sweden, and the remote regions of Iceland—people everywhere told stories of these gods, adapting them to local circumstances and enriching them with new details. What appears to us today as a coherent belief system was in reality a living, constantly changing fabric of folk belief, oral tradition, and religious practice.
It was only through the recordings of Christian scholars in medieval Iceland, most notably Snorri Sturluson with his "Prose Edda" in the 13th century, that these stories were brought into a systematic form. The "Song Edda," a collection of older mythological poems, complements this picture. Both sources form the basis of our current understanding of the Norse pantheon, even if they were already filtered through the Christian lens of their recorders.
The gods of Norse mythology were not remote, perfect beings enthroned in unattainable spheres. They were passionate, fallible, and often surprisingly human in their desires and weaknesses. At the same time, they embodied tremendous natural forces and cosmic principles. This duality is what makes them so fascinating and timelessly relevant.
Norse cosmology shows us a universe born from chaos and to chaos it will return. Yet in between lies a rich fabric of life, struggle, and meaning. A world in which even the gods are subject to fate, but in which every action, every decision, and every moment of courage counts. This timeless message makes Norse mythology more than a historical curiosity—it makes it a living source of inspiration and reflection for our time.
The Creation of the Cosmos: From Ginnungagap to the World Tree
In the beginning was the abyss. Ginnungagap—the "yawning void"—an immeasurable space between fire and ice. To the north lay Niflheim, the realm of ice and mist, from which twelve icy rivers, the Elivagar, flowed into the abyss. To the south glowed Muspellsheim, the realm of fire, whose scorching heat fought against the cold of the north.
Where fire and ice met in the Ginnungagap, the first act of creation of the Norse cosmos began. The ice giants melted, and from the falling drops, Ymir, the first giant, formed, a hermaphroditic being of immense size and ferocious nature. Alongside him, the primordial cow Audhumbla emerged from the melting ice. While Ymir drank from the primordial cow's milk, Audhumbla licked the salty ice, forming Buri, the first god.
This origin myth is remarkable for its scientific intuition. The interplay of extreme opposites—heat and cold—as a creative force is reminiscent of modern physical concepts of energy conversion. Norse cosmogony begins not with an all-powerful creator, but with a naturalistic process in which order emerges from chaos and opposing forces—a remarkable parallel to modern theories of the self-organization of complex systems.
Buri fathered a son named Bor, who in turn had three sons with the giantess Bestla: Odin, Vili, and Ve. These three brothers rebelled against the chaotic rule of the giants and slew Ymir. In a cosmic act of violence, they dismembered his body and formed the world from him:
From Ymir's flesh, the earth was created.
From his blood, the seas and waters emerged.
His bones formed the mountains and rocks.
From his teeth, jaws, and broken bones, they fashioned stones and pebbles.
His skull became the vault of heaven.
They threw his brain into the air, where it became clouds.
His eyebrows served as a protective barrier against the giants and became Midgard, the world of men.
In this violent act of creation, a fundamental principle of the Norse worldview is revealed: Order does not arise harmoniously, but through conflict and the overcoming of chaos. The world is not created ex nihilo, but transformed from a pre-existing substance. This idea stands in stark contrast to the creation myths of the Near East, in which a transcendent god creates the world from nothing.
The three brothers also created the first humans: Ask (ash) and Embla (elm). They found two tree trunks on the beach and breathed life into them. Odin gave them breath and spirit, Vili consciousness and movement, and Ve the senses, features, and speech. This anthropogony reflects the Norse peoples' deep connection with nature, especially with trees, which were considered sacred and often viewed as a link between the worlds.
The center of the Norse cosmos is the world tree Yggdrasil, a massive ash tree that connects and supports all nine worlds. Its three main roots reach three important sources: the spring of the wise Mimir, where Odin sacrificed his eye to gain wisdom; the well of Urd, where the Norns weave fate; and the spring Hvergelmir in Niflheim, from which all rivers flow.
Yggdrasil is both a living organism and a cosmic symbol.
The dragon Nidhögg gnaws at its trunk, an eagle sits on its crown, and the squirrel Ratatösk runs back and forth between the two, delivering messages and insults. Four deer feed on its leaves, and the entire structure is tended by the Norns, who pour healing water from the Urd Well over its branches.
This complex cosmological model reflects the ecological awareness of Nordic cultures. The World Tree symbolizes the interconnectedness of all areas of life and the fragility of cosmic balance. It is under constant threat and can only be maintained through careful care—a remarkably modern ecological metaphor.
The nine worlds that Yggdrasil connects are arranged hierarchically and represent different levels of being and cosmic principles:
In the upper branches lie Asgard, the fortress of the Aesir gods, and Vanaheim, the home of the Vanir gods.
In the center lies Midgard, the world of humans, surrounded by a vast ocean where the Midgard Serpent dwells.
Equal in rank to Midgard are Alfheim, the realm of the light elves, Svartalfheim, the home of the dwarves, and Jotunheim, the land of the giants.
Lower down lie Niflheim, the realm of ice and mist, and Muspellsheim, the realm of fire.
At the very bottom is Hel, the realm of the dead.
This cosmological structure is remarkably complex and allows for a differentiated view of the world. It is neither strictly dualistic nor monistic, but presents a continuum of different forces and entities that exist in a dynamic equilibrium. Norse cosmology is not static, but processual—the world is in constant evolution.
However, this world order is not created to last forever. Norse mythology has no concept of immortality. Even the gods are subject to fate and will perish at Ragnarök, the "Fate of the Gods" or "Twilight of the Gods." This eschatological notion of a cosmic final cycle that simultaneously marks the beginning of a new cycle gives Norse mythology an existential depth and tragic grandeur.
Norse mythology's cyclical conception of time, with its emphasis on growth and decay, reflects the life experience of the Norse peoples in a harsh environment where the changing seasons were drastic and survival represented a constant struggle. In this worldview, nothing is permanent, not even the gods—a sober yet comforting realization in the face of life's hardships.
This cosmological framework forms the stage on which the dramas of gods and humans unfold. It defines the limits of possibility and the fundamental rules of existence. The Norse gods are not rulers of this cosmos, but rather a part of it, bound by its laws and its inevitable destiny.
Odin: The Allfather and Wanderer Between the Worlds
Among the gods of the Norse pantheon, Odin stands out as the most complex and multifaceted figure. As leader of the Aesir, he simultaneously embodies king and shaman, warrior and poet, seeker of wisdom and cunning trickster. His name itself appears in numerous variations – Wotan, Woden, Wodan – and thus reflects his multifaceted nature. The etymological root of his name lies in the Old Norse "óðr," which can mean "rage," "ecstasy," or "inspiration" – all three aspects are central to his being.
In the oldest traditions, Odin appears as a storm and wind god whose wild hunts roar through the winter skies. However, this nature-mythological dimension was soon overshadowed by his role as a god of war and the dead, who selects the einherjer – fallen warriors – for his hall, Valhalla, where they prepare for the final battle at Ragnarök. In this function, he is closely associated with the valkyries, his messengers and spiritual guides of the fallen.
Odin's outward appearance is striking and unmistakable: He is depicted as an elderly but powerful man with a long gray beard, a broad-brimmed hat, and a blue cloak. His most striking feature is his one-eyedness – the result of one of his greatest sacrifices in the pursuit of knowledge. To receive a drink from Mimir's fountain of wisdom, he sacrificed his right eye. This physical imperfection paradoxically symbolizes his expanded vision and deeper insight.
"Appearances are deceptive" could be Odin's motto. The venerable old man transforms into a young warrior, a wanderer, an eagle, or other figures when necessary. This mutability makes him unpredictable and dangerous. He is not a reliable ally, but follows his own, often inscrutable plans. This ambivalence permeates his entire being and makes him a fascinating, yet also unsettling, deity.
Odin's insatiable thirst for knowledge drives him to ever new self-sacrifices and dangerous quests. The most famous episode is his nine-day self-suspension from the world tree Yggdrasil in order to obtain the runes. In his own account in the Hávamál Song:
"I know that I hung on the windy tree
nine long nights,
wounded by the spear, consecrated to Odin,
to myself,
on the branch of the tree from which one cannot see
from which root it sprouted.
They did not refresh me with bread, nor with the horn,
I peered down,
took up the runes, took them up with a groan,
and immediately fell."
This shamanic initiatory experience—encompassing death, liminality, and rebirth—gives him access to the secret powers of the runes and makes him a master of magic (seidr). For Odin, the runes are not merely a system of writing, but a cosmic principle that grants access to the deeper structures of reality.
Odin's attributes and companions are of particular symbolic significance:
These attributes underscore Odin's role as a god of the elite. He is not a folk god like Thor, but the deity of rulers, poets, and seers. His worshippers were primarily nobles, warriors, and intellectuals. While Thor was closer to simple farmers and artisans, Odin was the deity of those who sought power and knowledge.
As the god of poetry and ecstasy, Odin is the keeper of the Mead of Poetry, a magical potion that grants poetic inspiration. The story of its acquisition is typical of Odin's methods: After a war between the Aesir and the Vanir, the peace treaty is sealed by spitting together into a vessel. From this saliva, the gods create Kvasir, the wisest of all beings. Two dwarves kill Kvasir and brew the Mead of Poetry from his blood. After further complications, Odin transforms into a serpent, enters the mountain cave where the mead is kept, transforms back, seduces the giant's daughter guarding the mead, and steals it in eagle form.
This episode illustrates Odin's typical working method: He avoids neither shapeshifting nor deceit, neither seduction nor theft to achieve his goals. Moral qualms are alien to him; He acts according to his own rules and long-term strategies. This amoral dimension makes him an ambivalent deity who can never be fully trusted.
Odin, as a war god, differs fundamentally from other Indo-European war deities such as Mars or Ares. He is not a god of honorable single combat or open field battle, but rather the god of total war, military stratagems, and berserker fury. His followers, the berserkers, fought in a trance-like frenzy, impervious to pain and fear. The etymology of the word "berserker"—"bear shirts"—points to the totemic roots of this cult.
This ecstatic dimension of Odin is closely linked to his role as a guide of souls. As a god of the dead, he selects the bravest fallen through his valkyries and leads them to Valhalla, where, as einherjers, they live a life of eternal combat training and feasting. However, this selection is not primarily a reward for the warriors, but serves Odin's own purpose: to prepare for Ragnarök, where he will lead the Einherjers as his army against the forces of Chaos.
Odin's relationship to fate is paradoxical. On the one hand, he seeks to avert or at least delay the inevitable through the search for knowledge and strategic alliances. On the other hand, he accepts the inevitability of Ragnarök with stoic fatalism. This tension between agency and resignation to fate gives his character existential depth and tragic dignity.
As the Allfather and king of the gods, Odin is also a political symbol. His rule is not despotic, but based on consensus and consultation with other gods. The Thing assemblies under his leadership reflect the democratic elements of Germanic societies. At the same time, he is a master of manipulation and persuasion, often enforcing his will through indirect means.
Historically, Odin's cult has changed greatly over the centuries. Originally probably a shamanic nature deity, he developed into the dominant war and ruler god parallel to the increasing war orientation of Germanic societies. Archaeological finds show that his worship reached its peak especially in the late Iron and Viking Ages, when military expansion and long-distance trade shaped the Nordic world.
The Christian missionary work demonized Odin as the main pagan god particularly strongly. Nevertheless, many of his aspects survived in folklore and customs. As the "Wild Hunter," he hunted through winter storms, and as the "White Rider," he appeared at winter festivals. His name lives on in place names and in the English weekday "Wednesday" (Wodan's day).
In modern reception, Odin is often reduced to his warlike aspects or romanticized as an archetypal "wise old man." Both perspectives fail to do justice to his complexity.
Odin embodies the paradoxes of human endeavor: the search for knowledge that always remains incomplete; the longing for power that never brings absolute security; and the confrontation with one's own mortality that even gods cannot overcome.
His final battle at Ragnarök against the Fenris Wolf is preordained and ends in his death. Yet even in his downfall, his foresight is evident: his son Vidar will avenge him, and other descendants of his will will inhabit the renewed world after the conflagration. Thus, Odin's fate manifests the central paradox of Norse mythology: Nothing is eternal, but in the eternal cycle of birth and decay lies the hope of renewal.
Thor: The Protector of Midgard and Enemy of the Giants
While Odin, with his complex complexity, is difficult to grasp, Thor presents himself as a more direct, immediate character. As the son of Odin and the earth goddess Jörd, he embodies the raw power of nature, tamed by moral will. His name, related to the Indo-European root word for "thunder" (Germanic *Þunraz), immediately identifies him as a thunder god—a function he shares with deities from many Indo-European traditions, from Zeus to Jupiter to Indra.
Thor occupied a central position in the religious practices of the Norse peoples. While Odin was primarily the god of the elite, Thor enjoyed broad popularity among all social classes. Farmers, fishermen, and artisans, in particular, worshipped him as a protector against the chaotic forces of nature and threatening giants. The numerous place names containing the element "Thor" (Thornby, Torshavn, etc.) as well as the widespread use of Thor amulets—especially Thor's hammer, Mjölnir—attest to his prominent position in everyday worship.
Thor is described as a red-bearded, muscular man of immense strength and a robust appetite. His characteristic attributes are three magical items:
Equipped with these tools, Thor travels through the skies in his chariot pulled by two goats. The rumble of thunder is attributed to his chariot driving, while lightning strikes when his hammer strikes rocks. Thor appears here as a classic personification of the force of nature, an animistic explanation for thunderstorm phenomena.
But Thor is more than a simple nature god. His main mythological function is that of a protector—of both gods and men—against the constant threat of the giants (jötun). He is the primary defender of cosmic order against the forces of chaos and dissolution. The countless myths that tell of his battles with giants underscore this role.
Unlike the devious, manipulative Odin, Thor is direct and often naive. He solves problems with brute strength and sudden aggression, which sometimes lands him in dangerous or ridiculous situations. This characteristic is particularly evident in the tale of "Thor's Journey to Utgard," in which the thunder god and his companions are humiliated by the giant king Utgard-Loki through magical illusions. Believing himself to be failing in drinking contests and tests of strength, Thor later learns that he has been up against cosmic forces: the horn he drank from was connected to the world ocean, and the cat he attempted to lift was actually the Midgard Serpent.
This story illustrates an essential aspect of Thor's character: his humanity. Despite his divine power, he is prone to boasting, anger, and deceit. His reaction to failure—typically blind rage—makes him a relatable figure for the Norse peoples, who faced challenges and setbacks daily in their harsh environment.
A recurring motif in Thor myths is the transgression of boundaries. Thor frequently travels to Jotunheim, the realm of the giants, where he is considered an invader. This transgression of natural and cosmological boundaries reflects the experience of the Vikings, who penetrated foreign lands as explorers, traders, and plunderers. Thor's ambivalent relationship with the giants—he fights them, but also marries the giantess Järnsaxa and fathers his son Magni with her—reflects the complex intercultural relationships of the Viking Age.
This story reveals several important aspects: First, Thor's pragmatic willingness to transcend social and gender norms to achieve his goal—a surprisingly flexible element in an otherwise strongly masculine culture. Second, the comic dimension of Norse mythology, which does not exempt even its most important gods from mockery and ridicule. And third, the ultimate restoration of cosmic order through violence—a recurring pattern in the Thor myths.
Thor's main opponent, however, is not Thrym or any other individual giants, but the Midgard Serpent Jörmungandr, a child of the god Loki and the giantess Angrboda. This massive serpent circles the world of Midgard and bites its own tail—a universal symbol of the cyclical course of the world, which appears in many cultures as the Ouroboros. Thor and the Midgard Serpent are cosmic adversaries whose final battle at Ragnarök is predetermined: Thor will kill the serpent but die from its venom—an expression of the inescapable balance between creation and destruction.
In the Völuspá, the apocalyptic "Face of the Seer," Thor's fate is prophesied:
"From the east comes Hrym with raised shield,
Jörmungandr writhes in giant's wrath;
The worm whips the waves, the eagle screams shrilly,
Cadaver-faced, he tears the dead, Naglfar is set free.
A keel sails from the east, Muspel's sons come
sailed across the sea, and Loki steers;
The monster's descendants all sail with the wolf,
With them is the Byleist's brother on board.
What of the Aesir? What of the elves?
All of Jötunheim roars, the Aesir are in Thing;
The dwarves groan before stone doors,
The way-wise men of the rock walls—do you know what that means?
Surtr sails from the south with the mischief of the branches,
The sun of the gods shines from his sword Battle gods;
Rocks tumble, giantesses roam,
Men tread the path of Hel, the sky breaks apart.
Then another tragedy comes for Hlín,
when Odin goes to fight the wolf,
and Beli's shining slayer against Surtr,
then Frigg's joy will fall.
Then comes the great son of the Victory Father,
Vidar, to fight the corpse-wolf;
He lets the sword be thrust into the throat of Hvedrung's offspring,
and plunge it to the heart; thus is his father avenged.
Then comes the famous offspring of Hlodyn,
Odin's son goes to slay the worm;
Then the Midgard protectors slay him in glorious anger;
All men must leave their home;
Nine steps goes the son of Fjörgyn
Back from the worm, heedless of shame."
This prophecy depicts Thor in his ultimate role as defender of the cosmic order, even in its demise. His death points to the Norse belief that even the most powerful force is ultimately subject to fate. At the same time, his final triumph over the Midgard Serpent is an act of cosmic purification, enabling the renewal of the world after Ragnarök.
Thor's relationship with other gods is complex. He is often at odds with his father, Odin, as their methods are fundamentally different: Odin's cunning manipulation versus Thor's direct confrontation. He shares an ambivalent friendship with Loki, oscillating between companionship and aggression. The Thrymskvida and the story of Thor's journey to Utgard depict both gods as traveling companions, with Loki's intelligence compensating for Thor's lack of insight. However, after Loki's final betrayal of the gods, this bond is also destroyed.
Thor's family relationships reveal further aspects of his character. He is married to Sif, whose golden hair (possibly a symbol of grain fields) was once cut by Loki and later replaced by dwarven smiths. In addition to his son Magni (with the giantess Järnsaxa), he is the father of Modi and Thrud. His daughter Thrud is described in some traditions as so strong that only the bravest and strongest hero can take her as his wife—a motif that suggests the transmission of Thor's characteristics to the next generation.
Culturally and historically, the worship of Thor was particularly widespread in Iceland, where many settlers bore "Thorolf" (Thor's Wolf) or similar names and placed their landholding under Thor's protection. The Icelandic sagas tell of "Thor pillars"—carved wooden pillars bearing Thor's image—that the settlers threw into the sea. Wherever they washed ashore, the settlers established their farms, believing that Thor had chosen this place for them.
With Christianization, the cult of Thor did not disappear completely, but was partially integrated into folk customs and saint veneration. In some regions, Thor's attributes and functions were transferred to Christian saints such as Saint Olaf or Michael the Archangel. Thursday (Thursday, Torsdag) retained its name, and elements of the Thor myth survived in folk mythology as explanations for thunder phenomena.
Compared to other Indo-European thunder gods, Thor exhibits some notable characteristics. Unlike Zeus or Jupiter, he is not the supreme god but subordinate to his father, Odin. While Zeus is primarily characterized by his lightning, Thor's main attribute is his hammer—a symbol that connects him more closely to artisanal and agrarian contexts. These characteristics may reflect the specific cultural and ecological conditions of Northern Europe, where practical survival skills were more important than political dominance.
Overall, Thor embodies an ideal of masculine strength and responsibility. He is not perfect—his temper and naivety often get him into trouble—but he is reliable in his role as protector of the cosmic and social order. His popularity in the Viking Age reflects the values of a society that highly valued physical strength and direct action, but also moral responsibility and the defense of the community against external threats. In a world full of danger and uncertainty, Thor offered a divine model of courage and fortitude in the face of adversity.
Freya: Goddess of Love, War, and Magic
While Odin and Thor are well-documented as central male deities of the Norse pantheon, our knowledge of female deities is more fragmented and filtered through the prism of Christian records. Nevertheless, Freya (Old Norse: Freyja, "the Lady") emerges as one of the most multifaceted and powerful goddesses. As a member of the Vanir, the second family of gods alongside the Aesir, she embodies aspects of fertility, love, beauty, gold, war, death, and magic—a combination that makes her one of the most complex figures in Norse mythology.
Freya is the daughter of the sea god Njord and sister of the fertility god Freyr. This sibling relationship underscores her affiliation with the Vanir, who, in contrast to the warlike, hierarchically organized Aesir, are more strongly associated with fertility, prosperity, and natural cycles. After the war between the Aesir and the Vanir, which was ended by a peace treaty and hostage-taking, Freya, Freyr, and Njörd lived among the Aesir in Asgard—a mythical echo of the cultural integration of different religious traditions.
Freya is described as exceptionally beautiful in her appearance. She possesses several magical attributes:
Her various epithets—Mardöll, Hörn, Gefn, Sýr, Vanadís—indicate regional variations of her cult and her diverse aspects as a goddess of love, fertility, and magic. The name "Vanadís" ("Vanir Goddess") explicitly underscores her belonging to the older lineage of deities.
As a goddess of love, Freya stands in the tradition of Indo-European female deities such as Aphrodite, Venus, or Ishtar. But unlike them, she is not reduced to her erotic aspects. Nordic sources describe her as a self-determined, sexually autonomous figure who grants favors according to her own criteria. The story of the acquisition of Brisingamen illustrates this sexual independence: To obtain the precious necklace forged by four dwarves, Freya spends a night with each of the smiths—a trade she herself initiates and controls.
This sexual openness often earned her disapproval in Christian-influenced records. Snorri Sturluson and other medieval authors emphasize her "promiscuity," which, however, reflects Christian moral values rather than authentic pagan perspectives. In pre-Christian Norse culture, female sexuality was likely less taboo, especially in the context of a fertility goddess.
Freya's connection to erotic self-determination, however, goes deeper than mere sensuality. As the goddess of love, she represents the transformative power of sexual energy and the sacred aspects of the act of love as an act of creation and regeneration. In agrarian societies such as those of the Norse peoples, this connection between human sexuality and the fertility of fields and herds was immediately understandable.
Parallel to her role as a goddess of love, Freya is also a goddess of war and death. This seemingly paradoxical combination is characteristic of many Indo-European goddesses and reflects the understanding of life and death as complementary aspects of a larger cycle. Freya rides to battle and selects half of the fallen warriors for her hall, Sessrúmnir—a function she shares with the Valkyries and which underscores her connection to Odin as a competing and complementary deity of the dead.
The name of her hall, Sessrúmnir, means "she with many seats"—an allusion to her function as a generous hostess of the dead. Unlike Valhalla, where the Einherjers spend their days training in combat, the activities at Sessrúmnir are not recorded. One might speculate that the creative and regenerative aspects of life after death were emphasized there, in keeping with Freya's nature as a fertility goddess.
Another central aspect of Freya's character is her connection to magic, particularly seidr—a form of sorcery involving trance, prophecy, and the manipulation of natural and supernatural forces. The Ynglinga Saga recounts that Freya brought this art to the Aesir and taught it to Odin. This tradition is notable because it presents a female deity as the source of an important area of knowledge that even the Allfather Odin had to learn from her.
The historical practice of seidr indeed appears to have been primarily a female domain. The sagas mention "völven" or "seiðkonur"—seers and spellcasters who communicated with the otherworld through ecstatic techniques. These women enjoyed high esteem but were also feared. For men, the practice of seidr was often considered "ergi" or "unmanly," suggesting a complex understanding of gender in relation to magical practices. Odin's mastery of this "feminine" magic underscores his transgressive role and the ambivalence of his character.
Freya's own relationship with seidr is presented as a natural and inherent part of her being. Unlike Odin, she did not have to make sacrifices or pass trials to gain access to magical knowledge. This "innate" connection to magic is consistent with archaeological and historical evidence of a strong association between femininity and certain forms of spiritual practice in Northern European pre-Christian cultures.
A recurring motif in Freya myths is that of the coveted goddess whose hand is demanded by giants and other unwanted suitors. In the "Thrymskvida," the giant Thrym demands her as the price for the return of Thor's hammer. In "Hyndluljóð," she is courted by a giant. In "Sörla þáttr," she is desired by King Ottar. These stories emphasize Freya's desirability, but also her steadfastness and ability to reject or outwit unwanted suitors.
Freya's actual husband is curiously absent from the traditions. She is married to Óðr, an obscure figure sometimes identified with Odin, but this is philologically untenable. Óðr travels extensively, and Freya searches for him with tears that turn to gold—an image reminiscent of the Demeter-Persephone myth and other "seeking goddess" stories, possibly symbolizing seasonal cycles.
As a mother, Freya is less prominent. Her daughters, Hnoss and Gersemi, are mentioned only briefly and described as "so beautiful that the most precious things are named after them"—making them more personifications of wealth than mythological figures in their own right. Nevertheless, one could also attribute this significance to the high value of offspring. This relative marginalization of Freya's motherhood may reflect the Christian tendency to minimize those aspects of female deities that did not fit the patriarchal family model.
Freya's connection to gold and wealth is another important aspect of her character. Her golden tears, her "greed" name Gefn, and her precious Brisingamen link her to material prosperity. This association could point to the economic role of women in Norse society, where they were often responsible for managing household wealth, or to broader concepts of fertility that included material abundance.
In religious practice, Freya's cult was widespread, as evidenced by place names such as Frøyland, Freyhof, and Freysakr. Archaeological finds of small female figurines, often with exaggerated sexual characteristics, are sometimes interpreted as Freya amulets. Unfortunately, detailed descriptions of the rituals associated with her worship are lacking, but the sagas suggest that sacrifices and festivals were held in her honor, especially in spring and autumn—key times for fertility and harvest.
