The Mead of Poets: Part 2
So, two weeks ago we started exploring a Nordic mythical tale about one of the oldest alcoholic drinks in the world; Mead. We've met with Kvasir, the two evil dwarves Fjalar & Galar, and the giant Gilling who died tragically.
This week we will continue the story about the Mead of Poets and throughout the Edit, I will introduce you to a couple of new characters. We will see how the Nordic Gods will avenge the death of Kvasir and the charms of Odin.
So where exactly were we? We learned that Kvasir was created by the saliva of different Gods and went on a journey through the Nine Realms. He came across two evil dwarves who killed Kvasir and made the best mead in the world from his blood. When somebody would drink the mead he or she would receive the gift of poetry. The dwarves tricked Gilling and his wife and killed them too in order to get rid of their debts.
A new home
From that point on they drank mead every evening and recited beautiful poems to each other. They wrote incredible stories about the death of Gilling and his wife and sang it from the roofs. Eventually, they fell asleep on the place where they had been sitting the night before. Until one day they didn't...
Fjalar and Galar woke up and lay on the floor of a boat. A giant they didn't know or recognized was rowing the boat towards the sea. The waves were high and rough and the salty water splashed in their faces.
'Who are you?' asked the dwarves.
'My name is Suttung', said the giant, 'I heard your songs carried by the winds and waves about the killing of my father and mother.'
Suttung rowed towards the same rocks where his father died and picked up the dwarves.
'At high tide, these rocks will lie underwater,' Fjalar said. 'With us tied up we won't be able to swim and thus drown.'
'That is exactly the idea,' Suttung said and smiled for the first time. 'And when the high tide comes I will be here, sitting in the boat, watching you drown. Then I will return, to Jotunheim, and tell my brother Baugi and daughter Gunnlod about my deeds.
The high tide came and soon the beards of Fjalar and Galar were soaking wet. 'Have mercy with us!' the dwarves shouted. 'We will compensate with the death of your father and mother!'
'I do not think you have anything in your possession that is valuable to me. You see, I'm a very wealthy giant. I have gold, silver, and enough iron to forge a thousand swords. What possibly could you give me that I don't already own?'
Fjalar and Galar looked at each other and said: 'We have mead, the mead of poetry, made from the blood of Kvasir.'
Suttung scratched his head and after some very long seconds said: 'The mead will be an appropriate compensation.' And with that, he brought Fjalar and Galar back to their burrow and took the mead with him back to Jotunheim.
The part of Odin
This all was seen by Odin, who was sitting on his high chair that gave a view of all the Nine Realms. As soon as Suttung was back in Jotunheim, Odin grabbed his cloak and hat. He assembled the Gods and told they had to make three massive barrels, the biggest they could make.
'I will bring Rati with me,' said Odin.
Rati is a drill that could drill tremendously deep and go through the most solid stones. Odin had learned that Suttung had placed the valuable mead in the mountain called Hnitbjorg, guarded by his sister, Gunnlod. But instead of going there, he went to the house of Baugi, the brother of Suttung.
Meeting Baugir
Odin worked under the disguised name of Bolverkr for Baugir and gained his trust. This was of course done with some trickery and smart thinking where even Loki would be proud of.
Odin made the following deal with Baugir: 'When I work for you and plant, build, harvest, and do the work of your nine servants, I want to taste the mead of your brother Suttung.'
'Even though the mead is not mine and thus I can't guarantee you a taste I will accept the offer,' Baugi said. And with that, the deal was made.
After a short period of time Baugi came to Bolverkr (who's Odin in disguise) and said to him: 'Bolverkr, you have done more work than I could imagine. You have done the work of my nine workers and nine more on top of that! I will now help you get the mead.'
The next day Baugi and Bolverkr made way for the house of Suttung. Once arrived Baugi told the story to his brother and asked him if Bolverkr could get a tiny sip of the mead.
'No,' Suttung said grossly. 'I will not give one drop of that mead to anyone. Not to you or that servant of yours. The mead is safe with Gunnlod in the mountain Hnitbjorg and you deserve not one drop from it.'
Baugi completely devastated left the hall of his older brother with Bolverkr by his side.
'I'm sorry Bolverkr,' said Baugi. 'I didn't think my brother was this unreasonable.'
'He's indeed unreasonable,' Bolverkr said, 'but I believe we can learn him a lesson so he will listen to you the next time.'
Burglary
'What will we do?' asked Baugi.
'First, we will climb the mountain Hnitbjorg,' Bolverkr said.
'What is that sound?' asked Bolverkr.
'That sounds like my cousin Gunnlod who's singing,' answered Baugi.
'In that case, we will stop right here,' Bolverkr said.
Bolverkr took out Rati the drill and said: 'Here you go Baugi. You have to drill since you're a giant who is big and strong. Use the drill to make a hole in the mountain.'
After a while, Baugi was done. Bolverkr checked by blowing air into the hole. If the dust would come out it would mean the drilled hole was incomplete. Luckily this was not the case. While blowing in the hole he felt somebody crept up to him from behind.
Precisely that moment he turned into a snake and the drill Rati struck at the place where the head of Odin just had been, Baugi had betrayed him. Without wasting more time, Odin slipped into the gate and left Baugi stunned behind.
The charms of Odin
Odin came out in an immense cave and shapeshifted again. This time he transformed into a muscular and well-shaped man and walked towards the voice.
Gunnlod, the daughter of Suttung, stood in the cave in front of a locked door. Behind that door was the Mead of Poets.
'Greetings, brave lady!' said Odin
Gunnlod looked at him and said: 'I don't know who you are. Tell me who you are and a reason why I shouldn't kill you right now.'
'I am Bolverkr,' said Odin, 'I deserve death, I know. But just let me look at you for a few minutes. I have traveled from far and long to see you.'
'My father, Suttung, placed me here to guard the Mead of Poets,' said Gunnlod.
'But why should I care about the Mead of Poets? I have come here to see if the stories of your beauty, courage, and virtue are true.'
'And? Mister Bolverkr, who is about to die, was it worth it?
'More than that,' said Odin. 'Because you are more beautiful than any story told by a poet. More beautiful than a mountain top, more beautiful than a glacier or a field filled with freshly fallen snow.'
Gunnlod dropped her eyes and her cheeks became red.
'Can I come to sit next to you?' Odin asked and of course, she said yes.
Together they ate and drank in the cave. After dinner, they kissed each other in the darkness and made love multiple times.
'If only I could have a sip of that Mead,' said Odin. 'Then I could make a truthful song about your eyes and any man who wanted to sing about beauty would sing that song.'
'One sip?' said Gunnlod
'A sip so tiny nobody would know it, not even Suttung.' answered Odin.
Hand in hand they walked towards the locked door and Gunnlod opened it. The smell of mead and poetry hung intoxicatingly in the air.
'One tiny sip,' Gunnlod said.
'Of course my love,' said Odin.
With his first sip, he drank the kettle.
With his second sip, he drank the second vessel.
And with his third sip, he drank the second vessel.
Gunnlod wasn't crazy and knew she was betrayed and thus attacked him. But Odin was fast and slipped past her and closed the doors behind him, locking her up.
Home
The scream that came from Gunnlods mouth could be heard in each realm. Odin shapeshifted again, this time as an eagle, and made way towards Asgard. Suttung woke up with a start and once he saw the eagle flying away he knew what happened.
Odin raced back home and as soon as he approached his halls he began to spit up. A stream of mead flowed into the 3 large vessels Thor had made from his beak, like a father bird who is giving his children food.
Since then we have known that those who can do magic with their words, who can compose poems and sagas, and who can make up stories, have tasted the mead of poetry. When we listen to a good poet, we say that he has tasted Odin's gift.