Welcome to Litsy!

It was good to tick this one off my TBR, though it was more than just a tick-box exercise as I did enjoy it for itself.
The earlier poems are more mystical and esoteric, being prophecies of the gods and gnomic sayings for good conduct, surprisingly abstemious in respect of alcohol, and sadly misogynistic in parts. The later poems deal more with human heroes and dynastic strife. While some of the women here are marriage pawns, many are warriors ⬇️

"With a hell-bent hand she loosed the dogs;
hurled before the hall doors a flaming brand; wakening the house servants,
the bride made them pay for her brothers.

She gave to the fire all who were in there,
who after the death of Gunnar and Hogni had come from Myrkheim;
the ancient timbers fell, the temples went up in smoke,
the estates of Budli's descendants, shield-maids inside
burnt up, their lives stopped, they sank into the hot fire."

"The bright-faced woman darted about, bringing drink,
the terrible woman, to the nobles; she brought morsels with the ale
for the pale-faced men, reluctantly; then she told Atli his shame.

'Your own sons' - sharer-out of swords -
hearts, corpse-bloody, you are chewing up with honey;
you are filling your stomach, proud lord, with dead human flesh,
eating it as ale-appetizers and sending it to the high seat."

"I expect a wolf when I see his ears."

A quote about knowing a wrong 'un when you see a wrong 'un from the Lay of Fafnir, a story about how the lust for wealth and power ends in much suffering. It's quite an ancient story; not sure that it has any relevance for the modern age. ?

"Hearing I ask from all the tribes,
greater and lesser, the offspring of Heimdall;
Father of the Slain, you wished me well to declare living beings' ancient stories, those I remember from further back."

- Voluspa (The Seeress's Prophecy)

#FirstLineFridays @ShyBookOwl

"It isn't as good as it's said to be,
ale, for the sons of men;
for the more a man drinks, the less he knows about his own mind.
The forgetfulness-heron it's called
who hovers over ale -drinking;
he steals a man's mind.
That's the best about ale-drinking that afterwards
every man gets his mind back again.
Let no man hold onto the cup, but drink mead in moderation,
let him say what's necessary or be silent;
no man will scold you
⬇️

I've read retellings of these stories since I was a kid, and I read the Prose Edda a few years ago, so feeling it was time to read the Poetic Edda. This Oxford World's Classics edition looks like it has good explanatory notes, but not too extensive for the dilettante reader that I am.
#BookmarkMatching Accidentally, a reasonable colour match to the book with this bookmark showing Nordic artefacts, which I bought from the Jorvic Viking Museum 🔖

Hekla is a young woman in 1960s Iceland. She is named after a volcano, and like her namesake so much is going on under the calm surface. Hekla is a writer but it seems only men can be? Olafsdottir writes in an observational way - we hear what people say to Hekla, see what she sees and we notice the hypocrisy, but we are left to imagine what Hekla is thinking. I like this style of writing and the way it makes the reader try to figure out Hekla. ⬇️

In the early 1900s, Bjartur lived in a sod house he called Summerhouses, and he owed no debt after 19 years raising sheep and paying off the land. Bjartur valued nothing more than being debt-free (& therefore being an independent man) and his sheep. He begrudged anyone and anything threatening either one, at the expense of his enduring family. His stubbornness cost him family members‘ lives and it seemed the losses didn‘t affect him, until ⬇️

The genre is definitely 'weird sci-fi'.
A dystopian novel where a scientific genius from Iceland changes the world with his breakthrough tech. A lot of original ideas in here but they don't form enough of a coherent story line for me.

I liked the idea of becoming a literal shooting star instead of being buried after death.

Skyr has been eaten in honor of Iceland month :D

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