Loki's Children
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While most modern readers of the Eddas view the tales as mythology or even fantasy, many adherents of present-day Heathenry adopt a literal interpretation of the events and characters. In both cases, the esoteric value of the stories are often lost with little more than an exoteric understanding gained. From the latter perspective, the stories make little sense and their application to one’s life is quite limited. For those who read the stories as pure fantasy, the tales excite the senses, but not in a more significant way than other heroic fiction might. For the literalists, and especially those who cling to some type of Heathen orthodoxy, the gods and giants are awesome figures to be feared or worshipped. In this essay, I consider the meaning and symbolism of three monstrous figures—the children of Loki and Angrboða. Such understanding is not meant to detract from the lore, but rather to increase its relevance and to provide both spiritual and mystical insight for the seeker.
That such an approach is valid and not anachronistic, we can look to the Prose Edda of Snorri Sturluson (1170-1241). In its central tale, that of Thor’s journey to Útgarðar (Old Norse: out-yards), the “secret language” and the esoteric meanings of the events are revealed. We learn that anthropomorphized entities are representations of personal and natural principles and characteristics. Among other deceptive appearances, Útgarða-Loki, a giant and ruler of the castle Útgarðar, reveals that Loki’s competitor in the famed eating contest was not a giant, but rather wild-fire. The giant Hugi who defeats Thialfi, Thor’s young companion, in a foot race is explained to be thought. Thor’s wrestling opponent, who appears as an old woman, was actually old age. While most of the other tales we read in the Eddas don’t reveal their hidden meanings, Snorri goes a long way to explain that all is not as it seems. In several places in the Skáldskaparmál he states that ideas are concealed in a “secret language.”[1] While some may understand Snorri’s purpose to be simply an explanation of poetic forms, Guido von List (1848-1919) expressed that the anthropomorphized divine entities of the Eddas were cosmological characteristics of the “unfathomable One.”[2] He emphasized that the “secret language” of the earliest mystics concealed the principles of the sacred original holy religion both in an effort to preserve it and to hide it from the uninitiated. The high principles of the ancient faith represented the divine consciousness of man, practical instruction on how to live within a particular community or culture, and insights about the nature of the world.
Before exploring the details of three of Loki’s infamous offspring,[3] some brief background on Loki and Angrboða is helpful. Loki is identified by Snorri Sturluson as one of the Æsir gods.[4] He is known as a trickster and mischief-maker. Loki is identified as the son of the giant (jötunn) Fárbauti and the goddess Laufey who is also known as Nál. The Old Norse (ON) name Fárbauti is a compound of the noun fár meaning “hostility,” “danger,” “falseness,” or “misfortune,” and the verb bauta meaning “to strike.” Fárbauti has been translated as “dangerous striker” or “sudden striker.” Fárbauti can be seen as the moment when misfortune suddenly strikes, often catching one off guard. Little is written of the mother of Loki who is identified by both the names Laufey and Nál. The etymology of these names are also uncertain. Laufey is identified as one of the Ásynjar (ON: goddesses) in the Nafnaþulur.[5] It has been suggested that her name means “leaves” or “leafy.” Her name could be a reference to mistletoe which appears leafy in trees. There is a variety of mistletoe, known as “leafy mistletoe.” While this is highly speculative, the 14th century work, Sörla þáttr, reveals that Laufey was also called Nál (Needle) because she was so thin and slender. Might the names of Loki’s parents be a foreshadowing of the death brought to Baldr by the sudden striking of a slender shaft of mistletoe at Loki’s provocation? The relevant passage from the Völuspá reveals:
“The slender-seeming sapling became
A fell weapon when flung by Höðr.”[6]
The etymology of the name Loki is complex but also revealing. Historically many have associated the name with the Old Norse word logi meaning “flame” or “fire.” While this is now considered a less-likely explanation of Loki’s name, we do have the central story of Snorri Sturluson’s Gylfaginning, in which Loki competes with a giant called Logi in an eating contest. Snorri reveals, through the explanation provided by the giant Útgarða-Loki, that while Logi had the appearance of a person, he was actually an all-consuming wildfire—an impossible opponent to beat in such a competition.[7] Is Logi some type of representation of Loki? While such an idea is tempting, there is little to suggest that in the text itself. Today it is generally accepted that the most likely explanation of Loki’s name is derived from its root, “lok” meaning “lock” or “knot” in Old Norse. Indeed, throughout the lore, Loki both entangles the gods (and others) in various schemes. From these challenging entanglements and webs, it is often Loki who also needs to provide a solution—through intricate plotting and scheming. It is interesting to consider that Loki eventually finds himself tied—literally locked—to a rock, bound with his son Narfi’s entrails, by the gods as a punishment. Not unlike the earlier entanglements from which Loki escapes, he also escapes from this punishment to bring about the devastating events of Ragnarök.
Angrboða was the giantess with whom Loki sired his three monstrous children. She is said to live “east of Midgard in a forest called Ironwood.”[8] In Old Norse, Angrboða has been translated as “the one who brings grief.” Her name may be broken down into two parts, angr which means “sorrow” or “grief” and boða which means “foretelling.” This root is related to the English word “bode” which may be defined as “omen.” The name Angrboða suggests a “foretelling of grief” or a “fearful apprehension.”
This brings us to the children of Loki and Angrboða. Snorri writes in Gylfaginning:
“There was a giantess called Angrboða in Giantland [ON: Jötunheimr]. With her Loki had three children. One was Fenrir, the second Jörmungandr [the Midgard serpent], the third is Hel. And when the gods realized that these three siblings were being brought up in Giantland, and when the gods traced prophecies stating that from these siblings great mischief and disaster would arise for them, then they all felt evil was to be expected from them, to begin with because of their mother’s nature, but still worse because of their father’s.”[9]
Perhaps the simplest of Loki’s “children” to understand is Hel. The etymology of “hel” reveals that her name means “hidden” or “concealed.” The Proto-Germanic *haljō, means “concealed place.” Hel represents “death” and the “underworld.” There is however an important distinction made in old Germanic culture between types of death. While a death in battle may be heroic and result in one’s renown, a death of old age, sickness, or disease, is the type of death that one fears. Hel’s appearance is that of decaying flesh, “she is half black and half flesh-colored.”[10] Snorri writes: “Her dish [is called] Hunger, her knife Famine, […] her bed, Sick-bed.” She is said to have authority to “administer board and lodging to those sent to her, and that is those who die of sickness or old age.”[11] Guido von List provides an interesting insight into the realm Hel-heim[12] (oftentimes identified as the world or realm ruled by Loki’s daughter, Hel). He writes,
“Those who die a ‘straw death’ go to Hel-heim. This is mistakenly thought to refer to those who die of natural causes in their beds, but a ‘straw death’ actually indicates a meaningless death after a uselessly wasted and pointless life.”[13]
Since Óðinn[14] and his brothers, Vile (ON: will), and Vé (ON: sanctuary), bestow, among other things, consciousness to the first humans, neglecting to live one’s life in a fully conscious way is to go against the will of the gods. Each of us is endowed with divine consciousness and meant to fulfill our true Will[15]—failure to do so results in the very “wasted and pointless life” that List warns of.
It is quite telling that Hel is a child of Angrboða —the foreboding of grief. Snorri tells us that Óðinn threw Hel into Niflheim and gave her authority over the inhabitants of all of the nine worlds. While her “brothers” are bound in some way (as we shall see), Hel is left unbound. Her authority is not limited to Midgard (the realm of humans) but of all nine worlds and therefore over the gods and giants as well. It is interesting to consider that one of Óðinn’s many names is Helblindi (blind to Hel).[16] Snorri records in both the Gylfaginning and the Skáldskaparmál that Helblindi is Loki’s brother.[17] As a seeker of fame and glory (a point I shall return to), it makes sense that Óðinn would be “blind to Hel.” Óðinn’s hall is called, “Valhalla” or “hall of the slain” indicating that its inhabitants (including Óðinn) are those slain in battle fulfilling their divine purpose—hardly victims of a meaningless death.
The next of Loki and Angrboða’s “children” is Jörmungandr—the Midgard serpent, sometimes called, “the World Serpent.” The name Jörmungandr may be translated as “huge beast.” The prefix "jǫrmun-" denotes something huge. The word “gandr” mainly refers to elongated entities and supernatural beings. It could refer to a snake, or even a river. Snorri tells us that Óðinn,
“Threw the serpent into that deep sea which lies round all lands, and this serpent grew so that it lies in the midst of the ocean encircling all lands and bites its own tail.”[18]
The Eddas describe that Midgard is bounded by the Midgard Serpent.[19] This image is strikingly similar to the Ouroboros —an ancient symbol depicting a snake or dragon eating its own tail. The Ouroboros entered the Western tradition through ancient Egyptian and Greek magical traditions and iconography. Egyptologist Jan Assmann explains that the Ouroboros, “refers to the mystery of cyclical time, which flows back into itself.”[20] Like the ancient Egyptians, the Germanic people understood time as a series of repetitive cycles, rather than something linear. As such, the Jörmungandr is also understood to be a symbol for eternal cyclic renewal or cyclic law. It is a symbol of life, death and rebirth, or in Guido von List’s terminology, “arising, being, and passing away to new arising.”
Swiss psychiatrist Carl Jung (1875-1961) viewed the Ouroboros as an archetype and a basic mandala or symbol of alchemy. Jung identified man himself as the prima materia or UR-matter or first matter required for the discovery of the philosopher’s stone symbolizing divine illumination. He wrote:
“The Ouroboros has been said to have a meaning of infinity or wholeness. In the age-old image of the Ouroboros lies the thought of devouring oneself and turning oneself into a circulatory process, for it was clear to the more astute alchemists that the prima materia of the art was man himself.”
He continued,
“The Ouroboros is a dramatic symbol for the integration and assimilation of the opposite, i.e. of the shadow. This ‘feedback’ process is at the same time a symbol of immortality since it is said of the Ouroboros that he slays himself and brings himself to life, fertilizes himself, and gives birth to himself. He symbolizes the One, who proceeds from the clash of opposites, and he, therefore constitutes the secret of the prima materia which… unquestionably stems from man’s unconscious.”[21]
In several tales, Jörmungandr is depicted as Thor’s greatest foe. Thor’s famous “fishing trip” to catch the Jörmungandr results in the need to cut the line, just as Thor is pulling the monster from the sea.[22] Thor also confronts Jörmungandr in the guise of a cat during his journey to Útgarðar. Útgarða-Loki comments to Thor that “everyone that was watching was terrified when you raised one of its feet from the ground.”[23] Indeed, had Thor managed to lift the Midgard Serpent entirely, the very boundaries of world would have been shifted. It is fitting that during Ragnarök that Thor battles Jörmungandr once again. Snorri writes,
“Thor will be victorious over the Midgard Serpent and will step away from it nine paces. Then he will fall to the ground dead from the poison which the serpent spit at him.”[24]
Thor ultimately dies while battling the eternal cycle of destruction and rebirth. Shortly after the deaths of Thor and Jörmungandr, Snorri tells of the days which followed. He describes Iðavöllr (ON: Splendor plain) which stands where Asgard had stood previously.
“And then Thor’s sons Móði and Magni will arrive, bringing Miollnir (Thor’s hammer.)”[25]
We learn of Thor’s passing away to a new arising in his sons Móði (ON: wrath) and Magni (ON: might) who are among the gods who set up the new order in Iðavöllr. There is cyclical renewal through children and this is exemplified through Thor’s ultimate battle. Thor himself is unable to overcome the principle of the cyclical law of time.
The etymology of Fenrir is initially less revealing. It is generally accepted that the name is derived from the Old Norse “fen” or “marsh” which suggests that Fenrir was a “fen-dweller” or a monster of the marshlands. It is noteworthy to consider that the goddess Frigg dwells in a place called Fensalir (ON: Fen hall.) Some scholars have proposed associations of ancient Germanic religious practices to bogs and swamps. The Völuspá describes Frigg weeping over the death of her son Baldr as follows:
“But in Fensalir did Frigg weep sore
For Valhall’s need: would you know yet more?”[26]
Fenrir is also known as Hróðvitnir[27] which means “fame-wolf” in Old Norse. While this could simply mean that he is a famous wolf, more is likely at work here. To better understand we must turn again to Snorri Sturluson. In Gylfaginning he reveals that the gods were aware of prophecies regarding the great disaster brought by Loki’s children. Óðinn orders the gods to get the “children” and bring them to him. While Óðinn throws Hel and Jörmungandr out of Asgard, the Æsir decide to raise Fenrir among them. Snorri writes:
“The Æsir brought up the wolf at home, and it was only Týr who had the courage to approach the wolf and give it food.”[28]
While etymologically Týr is understood to mean “god”, the Old English word tīr meaning fame and glory shares a common root in the Proto-Indo-European language with Týr. Hence we have a god of fame and glory feeding the fame and glory beast. Fenrir, said to be the father of the wolves Sköll (treachery) and Hati (hate), grows larger each day. The gods decide to bind Fenrir with various fetters which break under the power of the fame-wolf. Finally, Óðinn decides to have a magical fetter called Gleipnir made. Gleipnir means “the entangled one” or “the deceiver” and has also been translated as “wolf lock.”[29] Gleipnir is described as being made of materials that are now missing in the world as they were used to forge Gleipnir. “It was made of six ingredients: the sound of the cat’s footfall and the woman’s beard, the mountain’s roots and the bear’s sinews and the fish’s breath and bird’s spittle.”[30]
When the silky bond was shown to Fenrir, the fame and glory wolf says:
“It looks to me with this ribbon as though I will gain no fame from it if I do tear apart such a slender band, but if it is made with art and trickery, then even if it does look thin, this band is not going on my legs.” [emphasis added.]
The Æsir demonstrate their own practice of deception and treachery by lying to the wolf, “if you cannot manage to tear this band then you will present no terror to the gods, and so we will free you.”[31]
Fenrir, rightfully distrustful of the gods words replies:
“If you bind me so that I am unable to release myself, then you will be standing by in such a way that I should have to wait a long time before I got any help from you. I am reluctant to have this band put on me. But rather than that you question my courage, let some one put his hand in my mouth as a pledge that this is done in good faith.”[32]
Of the gods, only Týr, known particularly for his honesty and victory in battle, places his sword-hand in the great beast’s mouth. When Fenrir was unable to break the magical fetter, the gods laughed at the wolf’s dilemma. Fenrir then bit down and took Týr’s right hand. At this moment, Týr, the god of victory and honesty lost two things—his sword hand and the value of his word. Týr, who “fed” the fame and glory beast sacrificed his two greatest virtues while deceiving the wolf and participating in the gods treachery. Here we see an important but subtle distinction of the Norse or Germanic mindset in that while victory is viewed positively, for example in the oft-cited stanza of the Hávamál, “One thing I know that never dies, the fame of a dead man’s deeds”[33] that being excessively proud of oneself or one’s achievements can be destructive.
Fenrir was willing to be bound by the great iron fetters initially presented by the gods since “he would achieve great fame for his strength”[34] should he break free. Steven Key writes,
“Fenris the fame wolf was very successful when hard things were given to him to break, as placed before him by the mighty gods. He shattered Thor’s iron chain; indeed, his strength actually grew because of the strength of the chains themselves. They were things he could push hard and strain against to become ever more famous. He wanted others to see how strong he was; this is a Norse bard’s description of an extremely vain, egotistical man.”[35]
Fenrir is bound or locked, as is Loki, until the days of Ragnarök. During that decisive battle, it is noteworthy that Týr does not battle his old nemesis, rather Týr confronts the great wolf, Garm. Guido von List argued that Garma was the Proto-Indo-European equivalent of more well-known term, “karma.”[36] He wrote,
“One’s own commissions and omissions, as causes, generate from themselves and by means of themselves effects, and these effects constitute Garma (karma) or destiny.”[37]
Snorri tells of Týr’s death during the great battle of Ragnarök while confronting Garm:
“Then will also have got free the dog Garm, which is bound in front of of Gninpahellir. This is the most evil creature. He will have a battle with Tyr and they will each be the death of the other.”[38]
Týr, falls to his garma or karma, by having lost his sword-hand during the deception of Fenrir. While the various combatants of Ragnarök confront their arch-rivals, we find Óðinn challenged by the great fame-wolf, Fenrir. Snorri writes:
“The wolf will swallow Óðinn. That will be the cause of his death. And immediately after Vidar will come forward and step with one foot on the lower jaw of the wolf. On this foot he will have a shoe for which the material has been being collected throughout all time: it is the waste pieces that people cut from their shoes at the toe and and heel. Therefore anyone that is concerned to give assistance to the Æsir must throw these pieces away. With one hand he will grasp the wolf’s upper jaw and tear appear its mouth and will cause the wolf’s death.”[39]
It seems that Óðinn, also known as “Hangatýr”[40] (god of the hanged), a name which recalls Týr, the god of fame and glory, succumbs to the great fame-beast. Óðinn’s son Víðarr which means “wide ruler” in Old Norse avenges his father’s death. We may understand “wide ruler” as a ruler of all or at least a broad range of people or peoples. His motivation is certainly not that of ego or fame. He defeats the great fame-wolf through scraps that have been discarded by the people. Hence Fenrir falls in a way not dissimilar to the obscure means that the gods fettered him. His defeat is not at all glorious. Of Víðarr, it is noteworthy that Snorri refers to him as the “silent god.”[41] In that label, we find a god that is not boastful of his intellect, power, or ego. In the period following Ragnarök, we are told that along with Baldr and Höðr, and Thor’s son’s Magni and Móði, that Víðarr reigns among the gods in Gimlé (ON: place protected from fire).
In conclusion, Loki’s children warn us of persisting in a meaningless life, the pointless opposition to the law of cyclic time, and the destructive nature of vanity and pride. They each play key roles in the events of Ragnarök. Hel’s legions, those who died pointless deaths, rise up along with Jörmungandr, the cyclic nature of destruction and rebirth and the great vainglorious-wolf Fenrir along with various giants—forces of nature aligned against the old rule of the gods. The events themselves however come to pass due to the great entanglement of Loki who is forever “locked” to his “brother” Óðinn. The actions and deceptions of each lead step by step in a great karmic (or garmic) dance to the final conflagration. Each step Óðinn takes to ready himself for the final battle hastens its arrival and seals its inevitability. Such is not however the unchangeable path of destiny or preordination but rather the result of cyclic law spun slowly and steadily. In the end, the Norn of “that which should be,” Skuld comes to collect her debt. As twilight gives way to night, so does night give way to sunrise. Cosmic law indicates that arising leads to being, and that being ultimately passes away to a new arising. The great macrocosmic struggle of Ragnarök reveals a personal microcosmic departure for each of us. In the time that we have, we are best served by recognizing the esoteric lessons of Loki’s children.
Notes:
1. Snorri Sturluson, Edda, trans. Anthony Faulkes (N. Clarendon, VT: Everyman, 1995). 61.
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