Being a physical-education
teacher has given me a special interest in those gods of our folk especially
related to various athletic endeavours. Of course, this makes for a
pretty lengthy list: one doesn't need to think too hard to recognise
the god most associated with the hammer-throw, or archery, or javelin,
or swordplay in its many forms. Hunting has at least two patrons, Ullr
and Skadi.
I discovered that unarmed
combat also seems to have more than one patron (which is, obviously,
not really a problem). Kvedulf Gundarsson, in his "Teutonic Religion",
identifies Frey as the god most involved. The folks at Stav state, however,
that the patron god, of Glima (traditional Icelandic wrestling) is Vithar,
the silent god. Out of phys.-ed.-teacher curiosity, I decided to look
further into this latter, enigmatic figure. Frey (Freyr, Ing, Igvi-Frey)
seems to get his rightful share of press as it is.
The fact is, there's not
a lot of surviving lore about the Wolf-Slayer. Most of what is there
is Eddic, although there's apparently a Vidarshof somewhere in Scandinavia
(I say "apparently" because map-searches haven't shown me
exactly where the place is--if it's there at all). There is also, of
course, the Gosforth Cross, a stone monument in Northern England, and
a similar monument at Kirk Andreas, Isle of Man, in which the Silent
One is shown doing his terminal-dentistry thing on Fenris. As well,
Dumézil claims ancient Indo-European lineage for this god, but
(unsurprisingly) doesn't quote his exact sources, making it difficult
to separate solid lore from author's fancy. Perhaps the existence and
function of the god are ancient, while his Nordic name is of more recent
provenance.
What we do have, as mentioned,
is mostly Eddic (it's all Norse--no mention of this Ase is found in
either Anglo-Saxon or continental Germanic sources). From the various
parts of the Eddas, we can piece together Vithar's characteristics.
In "Gylfaginning", verse 29, he is referred to thusly: "Vithar
is the name of the silent Ase. He has a very strong shoe and is second
in strength only to Thor. The gods look to him for help in all things".
In verse 56, his killing of Fenris by rending asunder its jaws is described.
Voluspa, stanza 53, describes the slaying in terms of stabbing the beast
in the heart with a sword. Perhaps both occurred: the rending, followed
by the stabbing.
All sources--including Voluspa,
Gylfaginning and Grimnismal--describe this slaying as an act of revenge
for the Chaos-Wolf's killing of Othin, Vithar's father. Grimnismal,
verse 17, is where we learn of the silent god's domain: "Greenwoods
and tall grasses grow in Landvithi, Vithar's land". The etymology
of the god's name is suggested to have something to do with this place,
as the best approximation that can be made of its meaning is "wide-ruler"
or "wide-ranger". Snorri's rendition of "Skaldskaparmal"
lists some other kennings for Vithar, among them: "iron-shod",
"ase-brother", "Fenrirsbane" and "revenge-god".
Other pertinent data: Vithar
is cited more than once in the Eddas as being among the survivors of
Ragnarok. The Prose Edda describes his iron shoe as being covered with
all the strips of leather thrown away by men, notably cobblers, during
all time, which is supposed to help protect the Wolf-Slayer's foot from
the monster's lower teeth while he rends the beast. Finally, in Lokasenna,
verse 10, Othin bids his silent son rise and serve ale to the just-arrived
Loki. Interestingly, the Valfather, in doing so, chooses "wolf's-father"
from among all of Loki's possible kennings--referring to the very offspring
of Loki that Vithar is destined to kill during Ragnarok.
So what do we have? Vithar
is silent. He is strong (not surprising, since Grith, his giantess mother
seems well-capable of dispensing strength: Thor's gloves and belt--magnifiers
of power both--were her gift to the Thunderer on his journey to do battle
with the etin Geirröd). Vithar is capable of killing mighty monsters,
with or without weapons. His strength is all natural (Landvithi is unlikely
to contain much in the way of weight-machines) and he uses no magic
gloves or belts to boost it. He lives alone in a wide green realm. He
obeys his father for the sake of keeping the frith in the latter's hall.
He avenges Othin's death. He wears strong footwear. He survives a cataclysm
that claims many others.
In truth, that's not a lot
of surviving lore. No real action until Ragnarok means no mythic tales
of derring-do, such as trips eastward to kill etins. No speech (whether
this silence is a matter of inability or choice is not made clear in
the Eddas) means no clever dialogues, à la "Harbarzljoth".
Not a lot for any Snorri-type mythographer to work with, to be sure.
For the rest of us, this lack of mounds of Vithar-related lore can be
seen in a negative light...but does it need to be? One disadvantage
of having a lot of available lore on a god is that, the more there is,
the more likely there are to be contradictions and other grounds for
disagreements among folk. We all know what I'm referring to, here: is
Woden a wandering woodland god of the storm-winds, or is Odin the enthroned
high-king of the Aesir? Who was the original Teutonic sky-father, Woden
or Tiw? Who is Tyr's father, Odin or Hymir? Is Saxnot ("sword-friend")
a kenning for Tiw, or a god in his own right? Is Yggdrassil a yew or
an ash? Is the irminsul Yggrassil? Are there Seven Worlds or Nine? The
list goes on and on, and academics and magicians can let their tongues
wag until Hel heats up.
People who prefer action
to words, and clarity to ambiguity, aren't necessarily well-served by
piles of lore--especially if it causes paralysis-by-analysis among folk.
For those of us who are more interested in athletic endeavours (such
as, say, martial arts), than in chanting drones, carving stones or rolling
bones, simplicity and directness are virtues to be sought. In this spirit,
I propose Vithar as an exemplar of disciplines worthy of any martial
artist. For such a person, there is, indeed, enough lore for the silent
god to be seen as an example...or even a patron.
First, and most obvious,
is the strength, something any combatant requires (let's remember that
there are many definitions of strength, not all having to do with hypertrophic
musculature). This is sufficiently self-explanatory that we can move
on. On this point, we might wish to remember where Vithar lives. Strengths
of many types are the province of those who survive alone in wide lands.
Then there is the ability
to fight effectively, to be able to dispatch monsters of great size,
with or without weapons. While we're at it, the desire for a "wide-ranger"
to have sturdy footwear needs no elaboration and, unless Vithar knew
beforehand of his role in Ragnarok, "wide-ranging" is likely
why he'd have such shoes--more likely boots.
Next, there is the stealth
and patience. Vithar never seems to show his full capability until the
Battle at the End of Time. This makes one think of a passage in Sun-Tzu's
"The Art of War": one will always win who knows when to strike
and when not to strike. The importance of patience--whether in training
or in fighting--cannot be overstated: history is replete with examples
of battles lost to precipitous haste. Also, in any combat sport, knowing
exactly when to attack is the difference between victory and defeat.
Knowing when to fight (or
not to) also includes knowing when to try and guard the frith of the
group (such as getting up and serving ale to one who might not wish
you well). A difficult task, but a true warrior knows when pride is
a boon, and when it might hinder or harm one's folk. Patient self-restraint
is, to a point, an essential discipline.
Perhaps most importantly,
there's the silence. This is the quality named in the kenning most prominently
listed just after the god's name. Vithar does not, one imagines, join
much in sumbels or boasting--something that would definitely set him
apart in any goodly Northern meadhall. Silence is a discipline that
is difficult to maintain in any society: we are social animals, and
most of us communicate through speech. And yet, many religious societies
have had, within them, silent orders. Why would this be? Perhaps it
is because we intuitively recognise that there is an undeniable sense
of mystery to one who doesn't speak, probably stemming from the tight
self-discipline necessary to maintain one's taciturnity. If many other
faiths have "silent orders" for this reason, would ours--either
in elder times or today--be different?
The self-discipline of taciturnity
cannot possibly weaken a person--it can only have the opposite effect:
a strengthening that can only be of help in the world of martial arts,
where a commmon phrase is "put up or shut up". All too often
have encounters been cheapened by trash-talking and empty boasting.
The Havamal more than once warns against talking too much--and at the
wrong times--such as in stanza 125:
"Exchange not three
words
in anger with a lout;
Oft the better stands aloof
while the worse lashes out". (my translation)
Now, for folk who have "shining
personal visitations from gods", the following is not an issue.
For those like myself, who see the gods as manifestations and cultural
embodiments of the mighty living forces of nature (Woden IS the wind,
Thunor IS thunder, Tiw IS the sky, and so on), the question must be
asked: what force of nature might Vithar represent?
Well, we have a god who,
in present-day terms, goes from zero-to-sixty in no time at all. From
an Ase who waits quietly in some deep woodland, to the vengeful Wolf-Slayer
who is the last survivor among the named Aesir to face the monsters
of Chaos in combat. Far from being a "minor deity", Vithar,
in slaying Fenris, saves what's left of the universe when Surt unleashes
his final cataclysm of fire upon Vigrith. Having finally acted to overwhelm
Chaos, Silence rules, allowing the world to be reborn in peace and calm.
Perhaps, then, Vithar is
the god of potential. What I refer to is the potential energy that all
phenomena hold in reserve, in some form. Anything without potential
energy cannot exist in the same universe as ourselves, until all things
have been drained of all energy (last of all, the potential form) by
entropy. This energy is thus found, at all levels of potential power,
everywhere: it is very "wide-ranging".
Such a force "waits
quietly" until the Norns decree that it is to be unleashed, either
all of it or (more probably) some of it. Potential energy is mysterious
and "silent" because, until the Norns set it free, it cannot
accurately be measured (although sometimes approximately predicted).
This lack of "show-and-brag" might lead some to underestimate
it, and call it "minor"--which would, of course, be a mistake.
It is the last form of energy
that will be unleashed in our universe (otherwise, any energy stored
afterward would, by definition, be the potential form). It is the last
surviving force that overwhelmes and quietens chaos--as Vithar's survival
of Ragnarok explains, in mythological terms--allowing for the re-establishment
of order. The all-swallowing jaws of the Wolf are pried open again,
allowing space needed for things to grow anew.
In the Northern tradition,
some people claim a patron god: an Ase or Wan who is, for some reason,
closer to that practitioner than are other deities. Magically-oriented
folk might feel closer to Othin or Freyja, those involved with issues
of justice might be closer to Forseti or Tiw, outdoor-adventure types
might have an affinity to Frey, Skadhi or Ullr, and musicians and writers
might be close to Braggi.
How about Vithar? Who would
have an affinity to the Silent One, and how might that closeness be
expressed in their practices? By looking at the Wolf-Slayer's mythic
attributes, one might be able to piece together a picture of folk who
could be termed "Vitharsworn".
They might share a certain
similarity, in terms of physical stature and combat-readiness, with
Thorsmen or Freysmen. Since their god is also known for an act of just
retribution, Vitharsworn folk may have some commonality with partisans
of Tiw and Forseti. The link to wide outdoor spaces, and a preference
for ranging over such rather than being inside walls, would lead to
some closeness to followers of Ullr, Skadi, and again, Frey. On the
other hand, there seems little in the lore to link Vithar with magical
or shamanic practices--except, of course for the solitary aspect of
the Silent God's existence, and for the fact that Vithar is listed,
in the Eddas, as Othin's son.
So much for similarities.
What about differences? How would a Vitharsworn person stand out in
a Northern crowd? The most visible (or, more accurately, audible) sign
might be his taciturnity. It is not out of shyness or humility that
he keeps his own counsel, eschewing the boasts of his fellow-guests
in the hall. Some people are simply quiet by nature, and would be going
against their natures to try and act otherwise. This is one of the glories
of a polytheistic faith: there needn't be just one single (orthodox?)
way of being. That is not to say that the Vitharsworn would say nothing
at all: that would be akin to a Wodensman tearing out an eye or a Tiwsman
hacking off his own right hand. Such destructive imitative fanaticism
is more the province of other faiths. One would imagine that a Vitharsworn
person speaks when necessary, but lets his deeds speak for him whenever
possible--and, again, only when needed.
Perhaps the Vitharsworn
would often be seen in heavy leather-and-iron shoes (modern equivalent:
steel-toed boots). A person dedicated to the example of the silent god
would not only have such apparel but (in addition to any other weapons
he's trained in) he would be expert at their use when necessary...such
as correcting any mistaken impressions, on the part of loud boasters,
that being quiet equals being weak.
One area where a Vitharsworn
person would likely remain completely silent is in the matter of rites.
Since we have no surviving lore regarding practices associated with
this god, we have no option save to proceed logically. The main features
attributed to this god in our lore (in addition to his great strength)
are silence, solitude (with the occasional trip to a goodly hall), and
wild woods and grasslands.
Proceeding on this assumption, I have gone into the woods north of my
home and attempted to address this god, using standard Blot-structure,
both with and without spoken words. I cannot speak for what would happen
to anyone else if they attempted to address Vithar alone in a deep forest,
but I found that the silent rite was far more appropriate to the occasion.
The stillness, punctuated by the occasional breeze, was both eloquent
and powerful, and the sense of potential--of great restrained power--was
unmistakably Vithar's. My rites and exercises, done in silence, greatly
increased my concentration and effectiveness, simply by removing the
distraction of words. Needless to say, Blotar are, by their very definition,
meant to cement community-cohesion, and they emphasize the spoken word--and
rightly so. I suppose a rite performed in silence would have to be called
something other than a Blot. Perhaps, more appropriately, it would not
given a spoken name at all.
Given the lack of lore about
the Silent One (and given the "minor" role he is given by
modern mythographers) it is uncertain how many folk would have the motivation,
or the self-discipline, to find in Vithar an example to live up to.
However, don't be surprised if, sometime during a hike in the forest,
you spot an individual or individuals doing what looks like a Blot,
but is done without so much as a single word being spoken. Or maybe,
while attending a future gathering, you'll see a taciturn individual
in steel boots, drinking as much as anyone else, but not taking part
in the boasts. Beware of basing any assumptions on his quiet nature:
if he is Vitharsworn, a good limber-up for an upcoming Glima match might
be to deliver a steel-booted lesson in diplomacy!
Hail the Silent One!
/
X
/
