Tief ist der Brunnen der Vergangenheit. Sollte man ihn nicht unergründlich nennen? [...] Mit unserer Forscherangelegentlichkeit treibt das Unerforschliche eine Art von foppendem Spiel: es bietet ihn Scheinhalte und Wegesziele [...] So gibt es Anfänge bedingter Art, welche den Ur-Beginn der besonderen Überlieferung einer bestimmten Gemeinschaft, Volkheit oder Glaubensfamilie praktisch-tatsächlich bilden1.
These are Thomas Mann’s questions and reflections at the beginning of his monumental tetralogy, Joseph and His Brothers. These are the same problems faced by both Snorri Sturluson and Saxo Grammaticus in their works: the search for origins, the identification of one or more figures as progenitors, figures who were at the beginning of all narratives. There is a common purpose in Heimskringla (afterwards HK2) and Gesta Danorum: to demonstrate that the well of the past, of which Thomas Mann speaks, is not unfathomable. Just as in the two works, there is a common need to make sure, by the written form, that the events of the past will not be forgotten.
This purpose is depicted by Snorri at the very beginning of Heimskringla:
In this book I have had written old stories about those rulers who have held power in the Northern lands and have spoken the Scandinavian language, as I have heard them told by learned men, and some of their genealogies according to what I have been taught3.
Even more explicit is the thought expressed by Saxo in Gesta Danorum’s Praefatio:
[I]f our neighbours exulted in the records of their past exploits, the reputation of our people should not lie forgotten under ancient mould, but be blest with a literary memorial4.
[T]his book is thereby guaranteed to give a faithful understanding of the past, not a frivolous glitter of style5.
The precise will of the authors to report in the most complete way what they could draw from the sources available to them, made it necessary to take into account the values and the representation of the events in the sources, especially the mythical narratives, which by their nature, escape temporal localization. In this pivotal element, we detect, in both Heimskringla and Gesta Danorum, what we could define as a “creative contradiction”: the myth is a constitutive element of the narrative structure in both works, and is recognised as an original cultural heritage but, at the same time, the mythical representation is subjected to sharp criticism, that challenges its credibility. The myth becomes a powerful narrative tool in shaping the chronological sequence of events. Through the mythical representation and the magical element, which is a key factor in it, precise cause-effect relationships are established between the events.
The two authors start from different if not opposite premises: the Christian inspiration in Saxo and what in Snorri can be defined, with an oxymoron, “magical rationalism” but, as we will try to demonstrate, both will reach similar conclusions regarding the problem of myth as tool to probe what we, using Thomas Mann’s words, called the deep well of the past.
In Ynglinga saga, the saga at Heimskringla’s beginning, Óðinn is depicted as an absolute leader and, at the same time, a supreme deity, endowed with supernatural virtues. Saxo’s portrayal would seem, at first reading, very different from Snorri’s. In Gesta Danorum Othinus, Óðinn’s double, is an “inconvenient guest”, an anti-model, who summarises the negative values of the pagan superstition, but is also cause and protagonist of pivotal events, that will determine the Danish history. It is Othinus who determines the rise and fall of rulers, as in the narrations about King Harald/Haraldus Hyldetan/Hilditan, i.e. probably “Wartooth”.
The magical element is connected with the figure of Othinus since his first appearance6. He is presented as defender and adviser of Hadingus. Othinus is “[a]n aged man with only one eye (grandeuus [...] altero orbus oculo)7”, according to the traditional portrayal. In Gylfaginning, the first part of Snorri’s Edda, it is said that Óðinn had to give up one of his eyes in order to drink from the source which is found under one of the roots of the cosmic tree, where wisdom and human intelligence are kept8.
Othinus utters a prophecy to Hadingus: “[H]e told him that his body would become reinvigorated and strong (uegetiori corporis firmitate constaturum predixit)9”. The divinatory skill, in Snorri’s Ynglinga saga, is the first supernatural virtue recognised in Óðinn:
And because Óðinn had prophetic and magical powers, he knew that his descendants would inhabit the northern region of the world10.
It has to be highlighted that in Saxo’s work Othinus utters the prophecy in poetic form and, as it happens in Hávamál, the poem of the Poetic Edda, he gives advice and instructions concerning supernatural virtues and powers, including the ability to defeat the enemy through the power of words and the attainment of extraordinary strength. The connection with the poetic art is one of the most important elements in Óðinn’s description that is found in Ynglinga saga:
Everything he said was in rhyme, like the way what is now called poetry is composed. He and his temple priests were called craftsmen of poems, for that art originated with them in the Northern lands11.
Snorri’s text points out that the supreme deity speaks following the rules of poetic art (skáldskapr), those that are observed by the skalds in their works, so much as to give a precise sacred mark to the compositions in verse. According to the narration in Skáldskaparmál, it was Óðinn who took over the precious mead from which the poetic art originated12. Óðinn’s creative power is defined here by the compound ljóðasmiðr (“craftsman of poems”). The noun ljóð defines not only the composition in poetic form, which has to be performed by song, and the song itself as a form of expression, but also a precise feature of this sound event, the power of fascinating, because it’s a spell, a magical song, expression of the demiurgic and, at the same time, destructive power of the supreme deity, as confirmed by Óðinn himself in the words uttered in Hávamál 14613: “I know spells (Lióð ec [...] kann)”. The same term, ljóð, is found, again in Ynglinga saga, in the description of Óðinn’s powers:
He knew songs which would make the earth and cliffs and rocks and grave-mounds open up before him, and with words alone he would bind those who were in them and go in and take from there whatever he wanted. [...] All these skills he taught along with runes and those songs that are called galdrar (“magic spells”). Because of this the Æsir are called galdrasmiðir (“magic makers”)14.
In the verses uttered by Othinus in Gesta Danorum this thaumaturgical power of the poetical word is degraded to a compulsive storytelling, with which Hadingus should put his jailers to sleep. This is the first example of a narrative process that is recurrent in Saxo’s text: the magical powers of the supreme deity become devices in the service of fraud and deception.
The formulaic element expressed through the carved runes is, in Saxo, connected with evil magic, as highlighted by the term dira carmina (“dreadful, frightful spells”), found with reference to both the giantess Hartgrepa15 and to Ollerus16. The runes which, as seen above in Ynglinga saga, are the tool used by Óðinn to teach his magical skills become a cunning trick for sexual purposes, when Othinus tries to win a woman: after being repeatedly rejected by Rinda, Othinus touches her with a piece of bark whereon spells were written, and dazes her:
Immediately he touched her with a piece of bark inscribed with spells and made her like one demented17.
The whole story in which this element is found appears as a desecrating depiction of Othinus, who must avenge the death of his son Balderus:
Now although Odin was regarded as chief among the gods, he would approach seers, soothsayers, and others whom he had discovered strong in the finest arts of prediction, with a view to prosecuting vengeance for his son. Divinity is not always so perfect that it can dispense with human aid18.
This can be interpreted as a retelling of the mythical ride to Hel made by Óðinn and narrated in Baldrs Draumar 5–14. Here Óðinn awakens a dead seeress, who tells him all that the god needs to know about the fate of his son Baldr. To win the woman with whom Othinus must beget a child whose task will be to avenge the death of Balderus, Othinus is forced to disguise himself:
At one time gifted sorcerers had the ability to change their aspect instantaneously and present different images of themselves19.
It is a derogatory restatement of the mythical portrait reported in Ynglinga saga:
Óðinn changed shapes. Then his body lay as if it was asleep or dead, while he was a bird or an animal, a fish or a snake, and travelled in an instant to distant lands, on his own or other people’s business20.
There are two disguises of Othinus that are significant in Saxo’s work. Firstly, Othinus appears as a blacksmith21. In both compounds that define the magical creative skills of Óðinn and of the Æsir in Ynglinga saga (ljóðasmiðir – galdrasmiðir) the second element, the noun smiðr, indicates the blacksmith and, more generally, anyone who carries out a manual work, using metals and/or wood. The reference to the blacksmith is particularly significant: the verb yrkja (“perform work, cultivate, till”) is also used for poems (“make verses, compose”)22. In fact, the figure of the blacksmith embodies a demiurgic function comprising the four basic elements of the universe: the earth in which metals are found, the fire forging them, the air cooling them and the water hardening them. By depicting Óðinn and the Æsir as ljóðasmiðir and galdrasmiðir, the text points out the creative and magical power of the vocal element that carries in itself the divine wisdom. This meaning gets completely lost in Saxo’s narrative, where Othinus becomes a blacksmith and forges valuable items only to carry out his scheme.
Then in Saxo’s work, Othinus appears as a young girl23 and this mix between intake of female features and magical practices is well expressed in the verses of the skald Kormákr ǫgmundarson: “Óðinn obtained Rindr through sorcery (Seið Yggr til Rindar)24”. According to Ynglinga saga:
Óðinn knew, and practised himself, the art which is accompanied by greatest power, called seiðr (“black magic”), and from it he could predict the fates of men and things that had not yet happened, and also cause men death or disaster or disease, and also take wit or strength from some and give it to others. But this magic, when it is practised, is accompanied by such great perversion that it was not considered without shame for a man to perform it, and the skill was taught to the goddesses25.
As said above, Óðinn is depicted in Ynglinga saga as an absolute leader and, at the same time, a supreme deity endowed with supernatural virtues. Also in this case, in Saxo’s story, the magical element has no sacred meaning and it is a device that ridicules the same deity that uses it, and this representation has precise references in the Poetic Edda in the words uttered by Loki and addressed to Óðinn:
But you, they said, practised seiðr on Samsey, and you beat on the drum as seeresses do, in the likeness of a wizard you journeyed over mankind, and that I thought the hallmark of a pervert26.
Furthermore, always in the Poetic Edda, in Thrym’s poem (Þrymskviða 15–32), is the god Þórr, who has to dress up as a woman to regain possession of his hammer.
But Óðinn is also a military genius and, in Saxo’s work, there is a distinctive fusion between strategic ability and what we can define as “meteorological magic”. Óðinn is able to dominate the natural elements as we read in the sources:
He also knew how to put out fire or calm the sea or turn the winds in any direction he wished with words alone27.
If I see towering flames in the hall about my companions: it can’t burn so widely that I can’t counteract it; I know the spell to chant28.
If I am in need, if I must save my ship when afloat; the wind I can quieten upon the wave and lull the sea to sleep29.
In Lay of Regin Óðinn calms a storm to help Sigurðr:
They turned towards the land, and the old man went aboard the ship, and the tempest abated30.
These meteorological powers are merged in Saxo’s work with military strategy. In the struggle against the Biarmians, we read:
Hadding noticed an old man on the shore waving his mantle to and fro to indicate that he wished him to put in to land. [...] [H]e took him aboard and found in him the man to supervise the disposition of his troops. [...] The Biarmians then changed their weapons for magic arts and with spells dissolved the heavens into rain. [...] The old man for his part met and dispelled the mass of storm that had arisen with a cloud of his own, and by this obstruction curbed its drenching downpour31.
This kind of powers has precise biblical references: “The Lord is bringing up against it the mighty flood waters of the River32”. “Then he got up and rebuked the winds and the sea; and there was a dead calm33.” In Old Norse Christian narratives, the “meteorological war” symbolises the struggle between the forces of good and evil, as in Oddr Snorrason’s saga devoted to Óláfr Tryggvason: a great and powerful heathen, who refused to accept Christianity, was also a great sorcerer and raised huge waves against the Christian king, but as soon as Óláfr’s ship ran onto them, the waves were allayed and levelled34.
A precise sacred reference has the troop deployment suggested by Othinus, which we found also in the seventh book of Gesta Danorum, when King Haraldus meets Othinus himself:
[A]n old man, very tall and with only one eye, wrapped in a shaggy cloak, who said his name was Odin and that he was skilled in the tactics of war; he offered Harald a most profitable lesson on how to dispose his army in the field35.
The Old Norse term that defines this kind of troop deployment is svínfylking, whose meaning is so explained in Cleasby-Vigfússon’s dictionary: “a ‘swine-array’, the wedge-shaped phalanx of the Scandinavians, from its being shaped like a swine’s snout36.” According to Sǫgubrot of fornkonungum, a fragment of the lost Skjöldunga saga, Óðinn was inventor of this technique of fighting37 and Tacitus already observed that among the Germans “the deployment takes place in wedges (acies per cuneos componitur)38”, while Ammianus Marcellinus speaks of a “pig-head array (caput porci)39”, describing the clash between the emperor Constantine and the Sarmatians. But the most important element is the reference to the boar, symbol of fertility and linked to Freyr40, as explained in Skáldskaparmál. The boar is a sacrificial animal, offered to the fertility deities, as we read in the Poetic Edda:
In the evening pledges were made. The sacred boar was led out, men put their hands on it and then they made their vows with the pledging cup41.
Regarding the other magical virtues of Othinus, Saxo brings about a sort of “narrative splitting”, by giving to several characters present in the text individual powers which in the Edda and in Ynglinga saga are owned by the supreme deity. In the fourth book we find Gunnolmus, who was accustomed to blunt the blade of an enemy with spells42 as Hildigerus in the seventh book, depicted as not only very valiant, but also skilled at blunting the sword with spells43. In the fifth book Oddo is depicted as follows:
[H]e was a man learned in magic arts, one who would roam the high seas without a boat and often capsize hostile ships by raising tempests with his spells. [...] When they joined in conflict with the Northmen, he dulled the enemy’s sight by the power of his incantations, so that they believed the Danish swords being brandished in the distance were emitting beams and flashing as if on fire44.
A Ruthenian fighter, Wisinnus, used to blunt the edge of every weapon by merely looking at it45, just as Haquinus, who was skilful in blunting swords with his spells46. Witolfus, when Ericus’s soldiers threaten to break in his house, eager to seize Haldanus, deprives them of their sight47. Likewise, the sorceress named Guthruna has magical powers that bring about the blindness of Iarmericus’s men, who turn their arms against each other48. Haraldus Hyldetan gets such protection from Othinus, whose oracle was thought to have been the cause of his birth, that swords could not injure him49 and Olo could terrify even the most valiant warriors with his stern and flashing glance50.
All these examples have common features. The first is that there are magical powers bestowed to human beings and these powers always have precise references in those belonging to Óðinn, according to Ynglinga saga and the Poetic Edda:
Óðinn could bring it about that in battle his opponents were struck with blindness or deafness or panic, and their weapons would cut no better than sticks51.
If there’s great need for me that my furious enemies are fettered, the edges of my foes I can blunt, neither weapons nor cudgels will bite for them52.
If I see, shot in malice, an arrow fly amid the army, it cannot fly so hard that I cannot hinder it if I see it with my eyes53.
The pattern of blindness that affects enemies has precise biblical references as in the narrative about the assault against Lot54 or the blindness of Elisha’s enemies55.
The second common feature is that in most instances the “human factor” is much stronger than magic: thanks to his intelligence Frotho manages to defeat Frogerus, who was said to be Othinus’ son and invulnerable, and Gunnolmus, who magically blunts the blades, is killed by Fridlevus with a blow with the hilt of the sword. Likewise, Starcatherus and Haldanus, Borcarus’s son, defeat their enemies by covering the blade with a cloth to hide it from their opponents’ magical sight56. Haquinus who, as said, was skilful in blunting swords with his spells, is defeated by Haldanus, Haraldus’s son, with a huge mace studded with iron knobs, in order to defeat the power of sorcery with the strength of wood, says Saxo57. By only using a cudgel, this Haldanus manages to kill Sywaldus’s sons, depicted as berserkir, that is the furious Othinus’ warriors:
He had seven sons, skilled in the practice of sorcery; often, impelled by sudden strong fits of madness they would bellow wildly, take bites at their shields, swallow hot coals and walk through any bonfire58.
This description matches in Ynglinga saga’s text:
His men went without mail and were as wild as dogs or wolves, biting their shields, being as strong as bears or bulls. They killed the people, but neither fire nor iron took effect on them. That is called “berserkr” fury59.
The third and very important common feature is the constant presence of optical illusions as a cunning trick to deceive or outwit someone. This feature is pivotal both to explain Saxo’s judgement about the mythic element and, above all, to find a connection with Snorri’s view.
Optical illusions are a determining factor in the portrait of the deities belonging to the traditional religion, the so-called “pagan superstition”, present in Saxo’s work:
At one time certain individuals, initiated into the arts of sorcery, namely Thor, Odin, and a number of others who were skilled at conjuring up marvellous illusions, clouded the minds of simple men and began to appropriate the exalted rank of godhead60.
We say “gods” more from supposition than truth, and give them the title of “deities” by popular custom, not through their nature61.
There are two constitutive elements of pagan superstition: the skill to create, with magical arts, an illusionary world, and the popular credulity. Pivotal is the reference to the power of altering the perception of the senses. In the first book of Saxo’s work, we read that the magicians who uttered prophecies were the first who gained the credit of being deities, and they were “superlatively dexterous in deceiving the eye, were clever at counterfeiting different shapes for themselves and others, and concealing their true appearance under false guises62.”
Praestigium is the term used by Saxo to define the deceptions and deceitful skill that dazzle minds and eyes arousing amazement and wonder. The term is explained by Isidore of Seville as follows:
Mercury is said to have first invented illusions. They are called illusions [praestigium] because they dull [praestringere] the sharpness of one’s eyes63.
In Christian literature the constituent defines infamous contrivances employed by evil forces against those who profess their faith in the one true God. Thus, Tertullian in the Apologeticum speaks of demons64:
And what food is more cared for by them, than to turn aside man from the thoughts of the true Divinity by deceiving illusions65?
by means of deceiving tricks, they play off a multitude of miracles66.
Again, Tertullian in De Anima highlights how the strength of true miracles demonstrates the falsehood of evil artifices:
The serpents which emerged from the magicians’ rods, certainly appeared to Pharaoh and to the Egyptians as bodily substances. It is true that the verity of Moses swallowed up their lying deceit. Many attempts were also wrought against the apostles by the sorcerers Simon and Elymas, but the blindness which struck (them) was no enchanter’s trick67.
And Lactantius says about Jesus:
From that time He began to perform the greatest miracles, not by magical tricks, which display nothing true and substantial, but by heavenly strength and power, which were foretold even long ago by the prophets who announced Him68.
The same semantic content of praestigium69 is found in Old Norse, in the compound sjónhverfing. The compound is formed by sjón (“view”) and by hverfing, whose meaning can be traced back to both the strong verb hverfa (“have a circular motion”, but also “disappear”) and the weak verb hverfa (“turn”)70.
The term defines both the visual misperception of an existing object, so that it appears in different forms and contents than it really is, and the insight of objects and entities that are perceived by the senses but do not actually exist, and the mix of these outcomes, leading to an astonishing and extraordinary visual effect.
In Christian literature, sjónhverfing defines the evil apparitions created with magic against the witnesses of the Christian faith, as pointed out in Oddr Snorrason’s saga, devoted to Óláfr Tryggvason:
Everyone knows with what prodigious events and optical illusions the evil one has manifested itself to his followers, and we believe in these phenomenal manifestations based on the forms that appear and are perceived by the senses71.
In the works devoted to Óláfr Tryggvason, the first Norwegian king who promoted conversion, there are several examples of demons, which fight against the faith by using optical illusions. In Óláfs saga Tryggvason en mesta 151, the compound sjónhverfing defines the illussangrisoions created by the evil one to make people believe that idols can move and walk: “Only by the fraud and illusion of the Fiend do they appear to move (eðr fiandin hræri þa með sinu falsi ok sionhverfingum72).”
The Christian king is tormented by evil visions as himself says:
After my foot was rubbed, I awoke the Bishop, and asked him to see if it had suffered any injury from the presence of the fiend that had come visibly into our room, deceiving our sight by its human form73.
In this context, Snorri keeps a sceptical attitude towards the legends born around the figure of Óláfr Tryggvason and his work of conversion, characterised by the presence of evil spirits who seek to oppose the action of the sovereign:
Many things happened that have been put into stories, when trolls and evil spirits played tricks on his men and sometimes on him himself. But we want rather to write about the events about king Óláfr’s conversion of Norway to Christian faith74.
But it is Snorri himself in Skáldskaparmál who uses the term sjónhverfing to indicate the magical illusions created by the Æsir to deceive Ægir:
He set out to visit Asgard, and when the Æsir became aware of his movements, he was given a great welcome, though many things had deceptive appearance75.
The most significant occurrence of sjónhverfing is found right at the beginning of the Edda, in the version transmitted in Codex Uppsaliensis (MS DG 11 4to):
Here begins the befooling of Gylfi, about how Gylfi paid a visit to Allfather in Ásgarðr with magic and about the Æsir’s heresy and about Gylfi’s questioning. [...] He travelled to Ásgarðr and assumed the form of an old man. But the Æsir were the wiser in that they saw his movements and prepared deceptive appearances for him76.
The complex manuscript tradition of the Edda text does not allow us to affirm with certainty that we have to deal with a full and unconditional rejection of the myth, considered as illusion if not even heresy, by the one who in his work provides the most organic and complete representation of it, but these statements, contained in one of the main witnesses of Snorri’s work, can be interpreted very differently. The term sjónhverfing appears in Heimskringla only once, in Ynglinga saga, in the narrative concerning the battle between Óðinn and the already quoted King Gylfi: “Óðinn and Gylfi often competed in tricks and illusions, and the Æsir were always superior (Mart áttusk þeir Óðinn við ok Gylfi í brǫgðum ok sjónhverfingum ok urðu Æsir jafnan ríkri)77.”
The Æsir do not achieve victory through strength of weapons, but on account of those magical arts taught them by the Vanir. The narration in the Prologue of the Edda is very different:
After that Odin went north to what is now called Sweden. There was there a king whose name was Gylfi, and when he learned of the arrival of the men of Asia, who were called Æsir, he went to meet them and offered Odin as much power in his realm as he wished himself78.
There is no reference to Óðinn’s supernatural powers, although, as we have seen, in the first part of the Edda it is King Gylfi himself who is tricked by Æsir in a contest of wisdom (Gylfaginning means “tricking of Gylfi”). This is presumably what is alluded to in the quotation from Ynglinga saga, but we will never find in Heimskringla an explicit assessment, directly attributable to the author about the trustworthiness of the mythical representation, nor much less a moral judgement of condemnation in the name of the Christian faith, as it is found instead in Saxo, who also points out ingenuity of the lack of wisdom of those who put their unconditional faith in false gods:
The results of their deception spread, so that all other realms came to revere some kind of divine power in them, believing they were gods or the confederates of gods79.
In Snorri’s work, even when there are references to euhemerism, they are never followed by moral judgements of a moral nature:
And people worshipped Óðinn and the twelve rulers and called them their gods and believed in them long afterwards80.
If an evaluation of the mythical element exists, in Snorri’s work it can be obtained only from the analysis of the linguistic elements used in the text to depict the origins of royal power at the beginning of Ynglinga saga. From this, a confirmation can be found of the author’s scepticism, which would seem to result from the use of the term sjónhverving in Edda. By describing the worship of Óðinn and of the other deities, the use of the verb trúa (“believe”, “trust”) is recurrent, and the meaning taken on by the constituent in the context of the narration clearly suggests that the need to exactly refer to the rites practiced by the population is followed by a suspension of judgement regarding their actual value. Among the several occurrences found in the text, here are quoted some examples. About Óðinn it is said that “[h]is people believed that he was able to assign victory in every battle81” and “[t]hey believed that then things would turn out well82”. And more: “His friends trusted him and believed in his power and in him83.” Likewise about Njǫrðr: “Svíar believed that Njǫrðr had power over the harvest and the prosperity of men84.”
With regard to the cult devoted to Freyr, in Ynglinga saga there is a meaningful occurrence of the verb trúa in a narrative that highlights both Snorri’s scepticism and an important connection with Saxo’s work:
There was prosperity throughout all lands. The Svíar attributed that to Freyr. As a result of peace and good harvests, he was the more honoured than other gods the more prosperous the people of the land became in his time than before [...] And when Freyr was dead they carried him secretly into the tomb and told the Svíar that he was still alive, and kept him there for three years. And they poured all the tribute into the mound, the gold through one window, the silver through the second, and copper coins through the third. Then prosperity and peace continued. [...] When all the Svíar knew that Freyr was dead, but prosperity and peace continued, they believed that that would last as long as Freyr remained in Svíþjóð, and they did not want to burn him, and they called him veraldargoð and sacrificed to him ever afterwards for prosperity and peace85.
A sceptical approach towards the rites depicted in the narrative is unequivocally highlighted, both about Freyr’s powers linked to fertility, and with regard to Freyr’s worship even after the certainty of his death. In the story concerning the maintenance of the secret of Freyr’s death, it is clear how the beliefs widespread in the population are cleverly exploited to ensure the collection of taxes.
It is extremely significant that similar words are found in Saxo’s work in the narrative concerning the death of King Frotho, whose dead is kept secret. According to the author, they did so:
[S]o that by the façade of his continued existence they could protect what had long been the far-flung bounds of his empire, and with the support of their leader’s old power draw the customary tribute from their subjects86.
Starting from different values and principles, the two authors draw the same conclusion on the exploitation of popular credulity by the power, unmasking the real, concrete, and even deceitful purposes underlying the boost to the worship paid to a king believed to be of divine origin such as Freyr, or celebrated as “most illustrious of all the world’s kings (toto orbe clarissimi regis)87” like Frotho.
This highlights that Snorri and Saxo have an important element in common: both cannot totally avoid “reading” the legendary past with the frame of mind of the thirteenth-century man, who, even if he shows respect towards the heritage of origins, realises the unbridgeable distance from it in terms of religious values and beliefs.
