Post Saga Musings

Hail to the Speaker!  Hail to the one who listens!  May the one who hears these words prosper because of them.  Hail to the one who listens!

It is Monday and here we are again emerged from a day long/ weekend long performance of Grettir’s Saga.  We journeyed through time and space far far away to Iceland, to Norway, the British Isles, and Constantinople.  At least we felt like we did.  In fact we were gathered in the historic cultural hall of the Icelandic community of Markerville, Alberta called Fensala Hall.

New bonds were made as we gathered with friends, family, and new faces to follow Grettir on his life’s pathway, to worry over his troubles, to share in his triumphs and to root for him when we could.  We listened to 15 storytellers.  We watched and joined in with 10 Nordic Folkdancers.  We learned songs and stories.  We feasted on vinarterta, ponokokkur, kjotsupa, carmelized potatoes, and flatbraud.

The day started with rain ( some snow on the road from Calgary).  How appropriate that we had to face some peril and risk as we travelled to perform in and to hear the Saga of Grettir – a man who faced so many dangers.

We were welcomed by the local ladies Vonin society particularly by my cousin Dorothy Murray who came to listen, and was called to help in the kitchen, at the door and supporting the storytellers.

Fred Andersen a local amateur actor and resident of Markerville joined us to help with the sound, to herd the audience back to their seats when necessary, with work in the kitchen and powerfully yet humbly delivered Grettir’s death scene on the Isle of Drangey.

I learned the Icelandic song of Sprengisandi, one which the shepherds would sing as they went on horse back to round up the sheep from the dark and haunting lava fields where the outlaws ( like Grettir) might be lurking.  It was a frightening journey.  Some brave souls tried to sing it with me.  The dancers danced while I sang the song as they would do in Iceland…

Here is a rough translation of the first verse of SPRENGISANDI (you might wish to look it up on You Tube):

Ride ride ride ride ride over the wasteland

As the sun slips down behind the mountain slopes

Here are lurking many evil spirits

As darkness falls upon the great glacier

Oh lord ride, ride my good steed.

For the journey is long indeed!

One of the best ways to learn a language is to learn the songs and so with the help of Audur Magnudottir, I sang this piece.  I simply cannot get this haunting Icelandic song out of my head.  There are more verses featuring the elfin queen and journeys across the lava of evil deeds…There may be some in the group who have also been lured in by this melody…

I revelled in the feeling of community that we formed as 15 storytellers each took a turn to reveal another portion of Grettir’s Saga and another layer of his psyche.  I am honoured that all these friends and fellow storytellers embarked with me on this journey to come to know Grettir.  Let me name them for you now in order of appearance: Caroline Stuart, Stephanie Benger, Laura O’Connor, Jennie Frost, Elinor Benjamin (0f Nova Scotia), Brian Hetherington ( of Kingston Ontario), Audur Magnusdottir (of Iceland), Maria Hopkins, Karen Gummo, Anne Cowling, Mary Hays, Sylvia Hertling, Mary Ann Lippiatt, Fred Andersen and Marie Anne McLean.  We came together from many far flung regions of Alberta, eastern Canada and beyond.

Many of us could hardly tolerate the young brute that was Grettir Asmundarsson as we began to learn his story, but as the time wore on there was hardly a soul in the room who would not have stood up for him.

I took on the role of Grettir’s mother Asdis to open the day.  She had many laments and wishes for him.  Here is a verse that she whispered to me as I got to know her more intimitely through this saga.

I seek again that soft spot,

That velvet cheek,

That playful artful boy my son, my son,

the one who would be bold, ever so bold

yet loving too.

Grettir snake, you slithered, slipped away from me

You were glorified, despised, denied,

Pushed into a corner.

You surprised them, haunted them, trifled with them,

Defied them

And now,

you linger in our thoughts and dreams,

In anxious screams, by tranquil streams.

There we find your stepping stones, 

traces of your bones,

your hideaways, your outlaw days,

But listen now.

The spoa sings and sings and sings of your steadfast might.

Oh Grettir, my Grettir…

 Asdis plunged her own deep strengths as she faced the death of her three sons one by one,

for the fates had woven it so.

If you missed the chance to hear and see the Saga on May 5th in Markerville, you have a chance to hear a sample of it from 7 – 9 pm on May 23rd at Shelf Life Bookstore in Calgary and then again at the Fort Edmonton Storytelling Festival on the Labour Day weekend of September.  See the TALES website for more details.

This is all I will tell you now.  More to come when I get the chance…