For many, many years, the Relief Society curriculum featured a monthly literature lesson. Sometimes there would be a religious tie-in; sometimes not. That might seem strange to 21st century expectation, but remember what life was like for most LDS women in the early 20th century when this practice began: Most LDS women, living in the Intermountain West, were rural women. Few had opportunities for higher education — in the first decades, even attending high school would not have been guaranteed to all. Cultural opportunities outside the largest cities were limited. Relief Society was a “mutual improvement association” for adult women, giving them regular, non-academic exposure to new ideas and artistic thoughts. … Remembering that might temper the unexpected “church” lesson that begins with poems about pagan Norse gods, albeit about pagan gods challenged by Christianity. (I’ll post other lessons in this series in coming weeks.)

THE BIBLE IN OUR LITERATURE

Dr. Howard R. Driggs

Lesson 1 – Our Literature Before the Bible Came

For Tuesday, October 16, 1945

In one of Longfellow’s Tales of a Wayside Inn, “The Saga of King Olaf” is a poetic portrayal of the bringing of Christianity to the “Land of the Long Night.” This old tale, first told to Longfellow, it is said, by the famed Norwegian violinist, Ole bull, reveals that the message of our master was carried into that stern realm not by any meek spirit, but by a hard-hitting Viking. Ringing lines from the lyric which opens the Saga, suggest the contest that lay ahead of this champion of the gospel. They sound also a keynote for this course.

THE CHALLENGE OF THOR

I am the God Thor.
I am the War God.
I am the Thunderer,
Here in my northland,
My fastness and fortress
Reign I forever!

Jove is my brother;
Mine eyes are the lightning;
The wheels of my chariot
Roll in the thunder,
The blows of my hammer
Ring in the earthquake!

Force rules the world still,
Has ruled it, shall rule it;
Meekness is weakness,
Strength is triumphant,
Over the whole earth
Still is it Thor’s Day!

Thou art a God, too.
O Galilean!
And thus single-handed
Unto the combat,
Gauntlet or Gospel,
Here I defy thee!

Following this vigorous lyric, in spirit and form suggestive of songs of the long-ago Norseland, comes a stirring ballad, sketching Olaf’s adventurous youth, and a spiritual awakening which led to his leadership in carrying the cause of Christ into his homeland. Opening lines of this ballad are:

KING OLAF’S RETURN

And King Olaf heard the cry,
Saw the red light in the sky,
Laid his hand upon his sword,
As he leaned upon the railing,
And his ships went sailing, sailing
Northward into Drontheim fjord.

There he stood as one who dreamed;
And the red light glanced and gleamed
On the armor that he wore;
And he shouted, as the rifted
Streamers o’er him shook and shifted,
“I accept thy challenge, Thor!”

With swiftly moving lines, the ballad goes on to tell how Olaf’s mother, Queen Astrid, after her husband, king of Norway, had been slain by a usurper, fled with her son to a haven with “Hakon old”; how, still pursued, she again fled, this time to be captured and enslaved. Later, Olaf as a boy was recognized and restored to freedom byu an uncle. Then he became a roving Viking, and finally converted in Sicily by a hermit, was baptized into Christianity. Fired with the purpose of avenging his father, reclaiming his realm, and spreading the gospel through the reconquered nation, Olaf had come with his ships and fighting followers back to old Norway. He would illumine that region of the “long night” with what had enlightened his own life.

What the ideals, the in look and outlook on life, of the rugged Northland folk were before Christianity came is mirrored in literature they created. Fortunately, in the Icelandic Eddas preserved for us, we have a wealth of their myths and legends, expressed in their vigorous, forthright style, to get us closer to their feelings and thoughts – their gods and heroes. And these same gods and heroes were in the main the very ones worshipped by not only the Scandinavian peoples, but by all Teutonic folk. In the Niebelungenlied, a main source of the tales portrayed in the Wagnerian operas, are the same basic stories and characters as those in the Norse sagas.

Anglo-Saxons, from whom came the English and Lowland Scotch, carried these tales across the Channel when they made their conquest of England. This, so far a we know, was their earliest literature. And it still is actively with us. Indeed, we pay something of tribute, though mainly without thought of it, to certain of the mythical Teutonic gods in our names of the days.

Nature worship with something of mysticism seems woven into the conceptions of these deities of the Northland. Baldur, god of the sun, beloved for the light and warmth he brought to the Land of the Long Night, was honored in Sunday, first day of the week. Monday was named for Mani, a beautiful youth, who rode his shining steed, Alswider, across the night sky. Tyr, courageous war god, who gave an arm to assure the binding of the terrible Fenris Wolf, is remember in Tuesday. Wodan, the all-father, with the ravens, Thought and Memory, on his shoulders, and with valiant heroes slain in battle, and beautiful shield-maidens, the Valkyries, ever about him, is perpetuated in Wednesday. Thor, fighter of frost giants, whose beard flares in the northern lights, whose eyes flash in the lightning, gave his name to Thursday. Freya, goddess of love and beauty, who rides through the sunny skies of spring and summer scattering flowers and fruits and bringing bird songs to cheer the northern realm, is remembered in Friday. Saturday, reserved for the last day of the week, comes from Surtur, fiery leader of the forces of evil, who, the gods ever feared, might break forth with destructive power in the last days upon their nine worlds.

Confronted with conceptions such as these descriptions suggest, the bearers of our Savior’s message had a difficult mission to implant principles of the everlasting gospel. Olaf, meeting Thor’s challenge with blow for blow, succeeded in winning back his kingdom, and in making Christianity the official religion of his realm. Real conversion, as always, was a slower process. It had to come by weaving into the lives of the people the principles and practices of true religion.

No small part of this was done through the infusion of the story and the spirit of the Savior into the national holidays. Yuletide, for example, which through untold years had been a time of feasting and drinking and wild revelry in celebration of the annual victory of Thor over the Frost Giants, was now commemorated as Christmas, in honor of Christ who came to bring “Peace on earth, good will toward men.” Easter, likewise, was made no longer just a celebration of the advent of spring, with joyous pageantry in honor of the beautiful goddess Oestara. It was a holy day in soulful remembrance of the resurrection of our Savior.

Another profoundly significant phase of this spiritualizing development came through the intrinsic changes wrought in our literature. Just as the old gods of Greece and Rome fell in both a material and a spiritual sense as Christianity rose, so did the gods of the Northland rather suddenly disappear. Only in Iceland, separated from the mainland by about eight hundred miles of ocean, did the sagas persist in original form for some centuries. That is why these stories are best preserved in the Icelandic Eddas.

Like the classic mythology of the Greeks, these sagas are, from an art viewpoint, great literature. They reflect the culture, the customs, the emotional life and ideals of that long ago. Something of a natural poetic skill was in the ancient skalds who created the strange stories. They had ample time to practice the art of story-telling during the long nights. And, since there was no printing press then, it had to be not story-reading, but story-telling.

One of the choice old tales out of the Northland impresses the basic value and the need for more such story-telling in our lives. In this mythical tale we are told that at one time, the gods, to commemorate a decisive victory over the Frost Giants, decided to create a man. It was agreed that, when the new being had been fashioned in his earthly image, each god should endow him with some precious gift. So they came, one after another to fulfill this pledge. One of the gods touched the lips of the newly created man that he might have the gift of speech; another touched his throat that he might sing. A third god touched his eyes that he might see not only with his outward, but his inward or spiritual eye; still another touched his heart that he might have sympathy for all creatures.

And, lo, when this man spoke, it was as no other had done before. In his words one could hear the song of birds, the whispering of the breezes, the roar of the ocean, the prattle of children. All the music of man and of nature came at the call of his wondrous voice, and he became the first poet.

Basic truth is in this old tale. The poet does portray in musical lines the life he knows. In consonance with this, one feels through these sagas the courageous struggle with harsh elements – cold and darkness. Winds howl and breakers crash on rocky shores. Then comes ecstasy with the advent of the brief seasons of sunshine and revelry. Heroes of battle are extolled and tragedy accepted with something of a fatalistic attitude. Extravagant exploits are detailed, all to help while away the lengthened hours. In keeping with some of the “tall tales” and radio story-acting today, these old sagas were primarily for pastime. They gave entertainment – rather than recreation.

Had our literary development stopped there, it would have never been completely soul-satisfying. Entertainment is wanted, but not that alone. What was lacking to round out and enrich literature of long ago was just what the Bible brought. It was an infusion of spirituality, new conceptions of life, the message of the Savior, that these stalwart folk needed. when this came, their literature rose with their hearts and minds to new heights.

Discussion and Activities

1. (a) Why may our English literature be said to have its roots in Teutonic lore? (b) In what ways are the mythological gods and heroes of the Icelandic Eddas and the Niebelungenleid kept in daily remembrance by English-speaking folk? Illustrate.

2. (a) What are some forces represented by these mythical gods? Illustrate. (b) Which of the commandments aims at turning folk from the worship fo such deities?

3. Which lines in “The Challenge of Thor” suggest a basic cause for much of the conflict that has raged in the world from long ago until now?

4. What battle line in Europe was named for a Teutonic hero round whom an epic was created in legendary times? Tell briefly something of the story.

5. Olaf, as a fighting Viking, opened the way for Christianity into his realm. What more was needed to bring the followers of Thor to accept and practice the gospel principles in their olives? Tell, for illustration, how their holidays were changed to help implant the story of the Savior.

6. (a) What is the basic difference between literature that merely entertains and that which brings real recreation? (b) to what type did the old Norse tales in the main belong? (c) What helpful guidance is greatly needed in our literature-reading practices of today?

Suggested Activities

1. Read aloud the ballad “King Olaf’s Return” in Longfellow’s Tales of A Wayside Inn, observing the Viking spirit, the story, and musically descriptive lines.

2. Find some tale from the Northland and read it. In any of the following books, or some school reader, such stories may be found:

Myths from Northern Lands, Guerber, American Book Co.
Old Norse Stories, Mabie, Rand McNally Co.
Age of Fable, Bullfinch, E.P. Dutton (Everyman’s Library).
Story of Seigfried, Baldwin, Scribners.