on the Laxdaela Saga
Oct. 31st, 2010 11:30 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
bedlamsbardAm reading the Laxdaela Saga for class. The intro is very, um, special. And by special I mean, "I think we were reading different books." Also, sexist, but hey, there are other parts that didn't jive with what I read. (I read the saga before I read the intro.)
I mean, for one thing, I wouldn't immediately pinhole Gudrun Osvif's-daughter as a tragi-romantic heroine; she has elements of it, sure, but she has much more agency than most Western European tragi-romantic heroines. (Although I have to admit that my idea of a tragi-romantic heroine is perhaps more closely rooted in Shakespeare and early-modern literature than medieval lit, so I could be biased.) And Bolli Thorleiksson totally had personality! Just because he isn't as flashy as Kjartan Olafsson doesn't mean he's utterly devoid of personality, bah. And Jorunn Bjorn's-daughter, totally not a complete shrew, considering her husband clearly favored his concubine more than his wife. (Dude, just because a woman has personality doesn't mean she's, I don't know, either a complete bitch or some kind of archetype of the forceful matriarch or tragi-romantic heroine type. Bah, mid-sixties male academics, FAIL.)
Oh, oh, and the closing paragraph of the introduction is very...special. Yes. Special is a good word.
This is the translation I read, in case anyone is wondering. Now, if one happens to want strong, fierce female characters in medieval lit, the Scandinavian sagas are totally the place to go; the women tend to play a major part in the action, and are, a lot of the time, the core of the story. Mostly because they end up with four husbands and murdered sons and murdered parents and murdered brothers and so on, but they are fierce, and proud, and don't roll over just because a man walks on stage. Most of the time they're the ones egging on the menfolk to go and kill something already, and why the hell are they hesitating, anyway? Are they letting their emotions overwhelm their pride and/or honor?
...huh. One could do a very interesting academic paper on gender relations on the Scandinavian sagas. (Well, I do have to write an honors thesis, but I was really hoping it would be more classical than medieval, although I'm still holding out for something in that period of Late Antiquity just to tie the two together.)
I mean, for one thing, I wouldn't immediately pinhole Gudrun Osvif's-daughter as a tragi-romantic heroine; she has elements of it, sure, but she has much more agency than most Western European tragi-romantic heroines. (Although I have to admit that my idea of a tragi-romantic heroine is perhaps more closely rooted in Shakespeare and early-modern literature than medieval lit, so I could be biased.) And Bolli Thorleiksson totally had personality! Just because he isn't as flashy as Kjartan Olafsson doesn't mean he's utterly devoid of personality, bah. And Jorunn Bjorn's-daughter, totally not a complete shrew, considering her husband clearly favored his concubine more than his wife. (Dude, just because a woman has personality doesn't mean she's, I don't know, either a complete bitch or some kind of archetype of the forceful matriarch or tragi-romantic heroine type. Bah, mid-sixties male academics, FAIL.)
Oh, oh, and the closing paragraph of the introduction is very...special. Yes. Special is a good word.
But dominating them all is Gudrun Osvif's-daughter, lovely and imperious, as fierce in hatred as in love, proud, vain, jealous, and infinitely desirable. Like all great women she remained an enigma all her life; and long after her death we can still argue about her, and admire her, and care about her; and wonder still who it was she really loved the most.
This is the translation I read, in case anyone is wondering. Now, if one happens to want strong, fierce female characters in medieval lit, the Scandinavian sagas are totally the place to go; the women tend to play a major part in the action, and are, a lot of the time, the core of the story. Mostly because they end up with four husbands and murdered sons and murdered parents and murdered brothers and so on, but they are fierce, and proud, and don't roll over just because a man walks on stage. Most of the time they're the ones egging on the menfolk to go and kill something already, and why the hell are they hesitating, anyway? Are they letting their emotions overwhelm their pride and/or honor?
...huh. One could do a very interesting academic paper on gender relations on the Scandinavian sagas. (Well, I do have to write an honors thesis, but I was really hoping it would be more classical than medieval, although I'm still holding out for something in that period of Late Antiquity just to tie the two together.)