Dans sa Gesta Danorum, Saxo Grammaticus rejette l’idée que les Danois descendent des Grecs ou des Troyens. Pour lui, les Danois sont des autochtones dont l’ancêtre éponyme est le roi Dan. L’originalité de cette ethnogenèse pour un auteur médiéval a été remarquée de longue date. Cet article propose d’étudier la représentation de la Grèce et de Byzance chez Saxo. Il analyse et compare pour cela les deux principaux récits dans lesquels Saxo met en scène Byzance. Le premier, dans le premier livre de la Gesta Danorum, où le faux dieu Othinus est présenté comme un Byzantin, et le second, dans le livre douze, où le roi de Danemark Éric Ier rend visite à l’empereur byzantin durant son pèlerinage pour Jérusalem (1102/1103). Cette analyse permet de montrer que Saxo a consciemment construit une image de Byzance comme antithèse du royaume danois.
In his Gesta Danorum, Saxo Grammaticus dismisses the idea that the Danes should descend from the Greeks or the Trojans. According to him, the Danes are a native people descending from the eponymous king Dan. The originality of such an ethnogenesis from a medieval author has long been commented on. This contribution examines Saxo’s representation of Greece and Byzantium. It analyses and compares the two main stories in which Byzantium appears: in the first one, in the first book of the Gesta Danorum, the false God Othinus is presented as a Byzantine, while in the second, in Book twelve, Danish king Eric I pays a visit to the Byzantine Emperor during his pilgrimage to Jerusalem (1102/1103). This analysis shows that Saxo deliberately constructed Byzantium as the antithesis to the Danish kingdom.
In seiner Gesta Danorum lehnt Saxo Grammaticus die Vorstellung ab, dass die Dänen von den Griechen oder Trojanern abstammen. Für ihn sind die Dänen Einheimische, deren gleichnamiger Vorfahre König Dan ist. Die Originalität dieser Ethnogenese bei einem mittelalterlichen Autor ist seit langem festgestellt worden. In diesem Artikel soll die Darstellung von Griechenland und Byzanz bei Saxo untersucht werden. Unter dieser Zielstellung werden die beiden wichtigsten Erzählungen, in denen Saxo Byzanz in Szene setzt, analysiert und verglichen. In der ersten Erzählung, die sich im ersten Buch der Gesta Danorum befindet, wird der falsche Gott Othinus als Byzantiner dargestellt, und in der zweiten (im zwölften Buch) besucht der dänische König Erik I. den byzantinischen Kaiser während seiner Pilgerreise nach Jerusalem (1102/1103). Auf Grundlage dieser Analyse lässt sich zeigen, dass Saxo bewusst ein Bild von Byzanz als Gegenpol zum dänischen Königreich konstruiert hat.
Saxo Grammaticus and the Myth of the Greek Origin of the Danish People
Saxo’s Reference to Greece in the Gesta Danorum
The Danes trace their beginnings from Dan and Angel, sons of Humli, who were not merely the founders of our race but its leaders also. Dudo however, who wrote a history of France, tells us that the Danes sprang from the Danaans and were named after them1.
Saxo Grammaticus starts the first book of his Gesta Danorum (c. 1208) with this explanation of the origin of the Danes. In doing so, the author mentions Greeks, or Danaans, in the second sentence of the first book of his work. If we exclude the prologue, where Saxo mentions various people, the Greeks are the second people appearing in the Gesta Danorum.
Saxo’s remark about the Greeks is hardly a sign of his philhellenism. On the contrary, he mentions the Greeks to reject the narrative of the French historiographer Dudo of Saint-Quentin who wrote in his Historia Normannorum (c. 1000) that the Danes could trace their ancestry to the Greeks2. To Saxo, the true founder of the Danish people is the eponymous King Dan. Hence, from the first sentences of the Gesta Danorum the attitude of Saxo towards Greece is one of rejection. This position is original and even unconventional amongst medieval authors who generally tried to show that their people could trace their ancestries to prestigious ancestors, chiefly the Trojans, who, since Virgil’s Aeneid, were viewed as the archetypal founders of the European dynasties3. As Lars Boje Mortensen noted, in the Gesta Danorum, Saxo willingly rejects the idea that the Danes descend from the Trojans. To Saxo, the Danes are a people of prestige in their own right4. Recently, André Muceniecks argued that Saxo presented the East under a generally negative light in accordance with the political objectives of the Valdemar dynasty, which aimed to expand Danish influence in the eastern Baltic region during the Baltic Crusades of the twelfth and 13th century5.
I agree with Muceniecks that the Baltic Crusades are indeed one of the elements to explain Saxo’s rejection of the East in general. However, I will argue that in the Gesta Danorum, Saxo does not merely reject Greece because of its location in the East. To Saxo, Byzantium is the polar opposite of Denmark and thus an important antimodel to construct Danish identity. To show that, I will analyze and compare the two episodes from the Gesta Danorum in which Saxo mentions Byzantium. In the first one, found in GD I.7.1, Saxo describes the pseudo-gods Othinus and Frigga as being Byzantines. In the second one, found in GD XII.7.1–5, Saxo recounts King Eric I’s visit to Constantinople in 1103. As I will argue, Saxo purposely designed these two episodes to mirror each other.
Previous Scholarly Discussion on Saxo’s Representation of Greece and Byzantium
First, I will briefly discuss the views of scholars according to whom Saxo produced a positive portrayal of Greece and Byzantium. Inge Skovgaard-Petersen considered that Saxo deliberately chose a Greek origin for the Danish gods because of the common association of Greek culture with knowledge, wisdom or scientia6. Likewise, Sigurd Kværndrup argued that Othinus had a positive influence on Danish society as he taught the Danes valuable lessons in military strategy7. To Kværndrup, Othinus symbolized the old connection between Denmark and Greece8. To Ivan Chekalov, Saxo’s pseudo-gods reside in Byzantium because this city is a symbol of prestige. To him, Mitodin a pseudo-god who briefly replaced Othinus as the chief of the gods in Byzantium, is a reference to King Sverrir who usurped the Norwegian throne9. Hence, in Chekalov’s views, Othinus would be a representation of legitimate kingship. If it were indeed true that Saxo regarded Greece and Byzantium as a source of prestige and scientia, why would he explicitly contradict Dudo of Saint-Quentin’s narrative according to which the Danes descend from the Greeks? As I will now show, by analyzing Saxo’s first episode regarding Byzantium, these readings are not supported by the Gesta Danorum.
The Byzantine Othinus in the Gesta Danorum
Saxo’s Description of Othinus’ Golden Statue
I will now discuss the passages from the Gesta Danorum where Saxo mentions Greece. The first of these passages is found in GD I.7.1. This short story takes place in the distant pagan past of Scandinavia, when the Nordic kings supposedly worshipped as a god a certain Othinus, who lived in Byzantium:
At that time there was a man called Odin who was believed throughout Europe, though falsely, to be a god; he had the habit of staying more frequently than anywhere at Uppsala, particularly liking to live there either because of the inhabitants’ torpor or the beauty of the countryside. The kings of the North, eager to honour his divinity with more enthusiastic worship, executed a representation of him in gold, the arms thickly encircled with heavy bracelets, and as an expression of their devotion sent it with the utmost show of piety to Byzantium. Delighting in his high celebrity, Odin avidly greeted the donors’ affection. His wife, Frigg, desiring to walk abroad more bedizened, brought in smiths to strip the statue of its gold. Odin had them hanged and then, setting the image on a plinth, by a marvelous feat of workmanship even made it respond with a voice to human touch. Nevertheless, subordinating her husband’s divine honours to the splendour of her own apparel, Frigg submitted herself to the lust of one of her servants; by his cunning she had the effigy demolished and the gold which had been devoted to public idolatry she switched to her personal extravagance. This woman, unworthy of a deified consort, felt no scruples about pursuing unchastity, provided she could more speedily enjoy what she coveted! Need I add anything but to say that such a god deserved such a wife? Men’s intelligence was once made ridiculous by extreme gullibility of this kind. Consequently Odin, wounded by both his wife’s offences, grieved as heavily over the damage to his likeness as the trespass on his bed. Stung by this double embarrassment, he took to exile replete with an honest shame, thinking he would thereby obliterate the stain of his disgrace10.
As Annette Lassen noted, this narrative is reminiscent of Christian apologetic literature and especially of Lactantius’ work the Divinae institutiones (c. 310)11. Jonas Wellendorf also noted that this episode resembles traditional Christian narratives about saints fighting pagan gods12. Here, Saxo uses a typical motif from these narratives: the talking statue and its destruction. Usually, in hagiographic literature, the motif of the talking statue serves to illustrate either the emptiness of pagan religion, or its demonic nature. Typically, the statue is an object of worship, an idol, and is able to speak either because of an ingenious mechanism, as in the present story, or more often because it is possessed by a demon13. Such stories about demonic presence within pagan idols also exist in the medieval Scandinavian corpus as for instance in Óláfs saga helga (The Saga of Saint Olaf) found within the Heimskringla (1220/1230) by the Icelandic author Snorri Sturluson14. This motif is also found in the Gesta Danorum where Saxo describes how a demon leaves the idol of the Wendish god Svantevit after the Danish crusaders topple it15.
In Saxo’s narrative, unlike as in traditional saints’ stories, the statue does not really function as an idol. This statue is not an object of worship used by the believers; it is an offering sent by the believers to their deity. The statue’s ability to make noise is also unrelated to idolatry. Its purpose is not to make the lifeless statue look alive, but merely to act as an antitheft system. Consequently, the destruction of this statue by Frigga has nothing to do with religious beliefs. The pseudo-goddess merely wants to acquire the precious metal and jewels from which the statue is made. As we see, Saxo describes Othinus and Frigga as ridiculous and sinful individuals.
Another aspect of this story which is difficult to explain is Saxo’s placement of the Scandinavian pseudo-gods in Byzantium. Unlike what previous scholars such as Skovgaard-Pedersen claimed, Byzantium certainly does not act here as a symbol of prestige and scientia. But if Saxo did not use Byzantium as a symbol of prestige, for what reason did he place the pseudo-gods in this city? I will now address the question of Saxo’s potential sources for this location.
The Greek Origin of Othinus before Saxo
We must note that Saxo is not the first author to connect the Scandinavian pseudo-gods with the East and specifically with Asia Minor. In the eighth century, Paul the Deacon wrote in his Historia Langobardorum I.9 (History of the Lombards, c. 790) that Wotan and Frea came from Greece:
Wotan indeed, whom by adding a letter they called Godan is he who among the Romans is called Mercury, and he is worshipped by all the people in Germany as a god, though he is deemed to have existed, not about these times, but long before, and not in Germany, but in Greece16.
There is no doubt that Saxo knew the Historia Langobardorum, as he even explicitly referred to the section I.8 of this text, which is the paragraph immediately preceding Paul’s reference to the Greek origin of Wotan17. It is thus certain that Saxo was aware of Paul’s narrative regarding the Greek origin of Othinus. The notion that the pseudo-gods came from the East also existed in medieval Scandinavian literature before Saxo. Ari the Wise concluded his Íslendingabók (Book of the Icelanders, c. 1130) with his genealogy where he claimed to descend from “Yngvi, king of the Turks (Yngvi Tyrkjakonungr)18”. Like Ari, Snorri Sturluson, who wrote shortly after Saxo, also ascribed an eastern origin to the pseudo-gods, both in his Edda and in the Heimskringla, written between 1220 and 1230, where he describes Óðinn as traveling from Asia Minor to Scandinavia. Both in the Íslendingabók and in Snorri’s work the eastern origin of the pseudo-gods is perceived as esteemed. As Sverrir Jakobsson argues, the medieval authors from Norway and Iceland consistently described Greece and Byzantium as places of prestige. Their work does not contain reference to the religious schism and does not convey negative tropes about the Greeks19.
However, not all medieval authors saw Byzantium and Greece in such a positive light. Anti-Greek sentiments are common in Catholic medieval literature where the Orthodox Greeks may at times be described as schismatic, or even heretics. In that regard, the notion that Byzantium was a place of human worship predates Saxo and is already found in the Letter of the Prester John (c. 1165). The narrator of this enigmatic text, whose real author is unknown, presents himself as the Prester John, the ruler of a fantastic Christian kingdom located in the East, close to India. The letter is supposedly addressed to the Byzantine emperor, and after a short introduction, the Prester John accuses the emperor of impersonating a god:
For although we know that you are a man, your little Greeks hold you to be a god, while we recognise that you are mortal and subject to human corruption20.
It is doubtful that any Western Christian authors literally believed that the Byzantine emperor was worshipped as a god, but one can see how this schismatic and grandiloquent ruler could be caricatured as a pseudo-god in western works of propaganda. The Letter of Prester John circulated widely in Europe in Latin as well as in vernacular translations. Saxo does not quote nor refer to the Letter of Prester John and it is impossible to know whether he based his description of the Byzantine Othinus on this work. It is nonetheless apparent that the representation of Byzantium found in Saxo’s narrative conveys similar tropes according to which the Byzantine emperors were pompous rulers as well as religious deviants. In any case, while the sources discussed above pinpointed the Scandinavian pseudo-gods in Greece and Tyrkland, none of them located them in Byzantium specifically. This oddity is a specificity of Saxo, and I will argue that it is easier to understand it if we compare this narrative with the following one regarding King Eric’s stay in Byzantium.
King Eric’s Stay in Byzantium
I will now discuss the narrative regarding Othinus and Frigga with the one from GD XII.7.1–5. This narrative, which is too long to be quoted entirely here, takes place in 1103 when King Eric I stayed in Constantinople during his pilgrimage to Jerusalem. Like the previous episode, it is about an interaction between a Nordic king and a ruler in Constantinople. This time, however, the Byzantine ruler is a historical character: Emperor Alexios I Komnenos (c. 1057–1118). Saxo is the first Danish author to recount Eric’s stay in Constantinople. Sven Aggesen, who wrote a history of Denmark before Saxo, the Brevis Historia Regum Dacie (c. 1185) only mentioned that Eric traveled to Jerusalem and died in Cyprus but said nothing of his stay in Constantinople21.
However, this historical event was also described in the Eiríksdrápa, allegedly composed by the Icelandic scald Markús Skeggjason who died in 1107. This poem, however, is only recorded in the Knýtlinga saga, written between 1250 and 1270, and thus after the composition of the Gesta Danorum. Eric’s stay in Constantinople is recorded in the 28th stanza:
The very wise ruler received along with the highest praise of men weighty wealth in red gold, half a lest, from the lord himself in Constantinople. Previously Eiríkr accepted the clothes of the mighty ruler; yet even more was given; the trier of the might of hersar [“ruler” = Byzantine emperor] granted him six and eight warships22.
In Markús’ poem, the Byzantine emperor gave various gifts including gold to King Eric. As we shall see, Saxo’s account of the same event is also about gift-giving but is nonetheless extremely different from that of the Eiríksdrápa. Contrary to Markús’, Saxo’s description of the emperor is anything but flattering as the Byzantine ruler appears reluctant to receive the Danish king:
The emperor was nowhere near bold enough to receive him into the city, but rendered him the courtesies of hospitality after instructing him to encamp outside the walls, since he believed that under the guise of piety Erik was aiming at treachery23.
Furthermore, the emperor fears that his own personal guards may be more loyal to King Eric than to himself, as many of them are from Denmark:
Furthermore, the emperor at the same time took occasion to eye with distrust those Danes whom he cherished in closest intimacy, as though they would have more thought for the ruler from their homeland than for their own wage.24
For this reason, the emperor bribes some of his men to spy on King Eric:
As it happened, the emperor had secretly bribed those who were fluent in both languages to report back to him the conversations they had with Erik.25
But contrary to what the emperor expected, King Eric behaved honorably and delivered a speech to encourage his fellow Danes to remain loyal to the emperor and to serve him to the best of their abilities, thus establishing “a ready devotion towards Greece among the Danes (Danorum fidem Grecie conciliauit)26”. Reassured about Eric’s intentions, the emperor comes to admire the king and his people, and even proclaims that “the Greeks were wrongly supposed to have the advantage in wisdom, because they had cast doubts on the integrity of a leader whose race they had known was averse to all dishonesty (falso Grecis sapientie prerogatiuam ascribi inquit, quod ducis fidem notassent, cuius gentem totius alienam perfidie cognouissent)27.”
It is the following events which are most interesting to this discussion. The emperor is impressed by Eric’s honesty and honorable behavior, and wants to have his portrait made:
Furthermore, after summoning an artist who could express Erik’s height in a life-size portrait and catch his appearance, either standing or sitting, with a most accurate coloured representation, he had his amazingly tall figure painted as a lasting showpiece28.
As in the previous narrative regarding Othinus, this passage is about the exchange of a figurative piece of art between a Byzantine emperor and a Nordic king. This time, however, it is not the Byzantine ruler who is represented but the Scandinavian king. Furthermore, the motivation for the creation of this portrait is not the same as in Othinus’ story. Unlike the statue of Othinus, the portrait of Eric is not there to satisfy a narcissistic urge, it is not Eric who adores himself, but rather the emperor who admires the Danish king for his attested qualities as a Christian king. After this first exchange, the emperor wants to offer gifts to the king:
Reluctant to let such a distinguished guest go without a gift, he told Erik to demand whatever suited his fancy. But as the other spurned any riches, the emperor realized he longed more than anything for sacred remains and presented him with the hallowed relics of saints’ bones29.
The story does not end here, as the emperor is offended by Eric’s refusal and is insistent. Eric ultimately accepts the emperor’s gifts out of politeness but immediately reciprocates with even more precious offerings:
Yet not wanting to appear in the role of receiver and exclude that of giver, the Dane responded with obliging courtesies and equal generosity. Nevertheless novelty lent value to his presents, and these tokens from a foreigner were all the more precious to the emperor in that they were seldom seen in Greece30.
We must note that in Saxo’s narrative, the emperor wants to offer gold, and relics, as well as boats31 to King Eric. Apart from clothes, which Saxo does not mention, these are the same gifts as those which Markús Skeggjason mentioned in his Eiríksdrápa. This strongly suggests that Saxo’s retelling of this event is either based on Eiríksdrápa or that both Saxo’s narrative and Eiríksdrápa are based on a similar tradition.
Yet, aside from the similarities in the gifts given by the emperor, the two accounts are different. In Markús’ narrative, the emperor is the only active agent in the encounter and showers the Danish kings with precious gifts. In Saxo’s version of the encounter Eric is reluctant to accept gifts except relics and, after he finally accepts them, repays the emperor with equally valuable presents.
Marcel Mauss in his Essai sur le don studied this type of social interaction where individuals, or groups, partake in gift-giving. Mauss’ essay starts with a quotation of Hávamál stanzas 39 to 48, as well as stanza 14532. In these stanzas, the poet, through the voice of Óðinn, ponders on the importance of gift-giving in establishing solid and lasting relationships. As the poet notes, gift-giving is regulated by rules and conventions. One of the most important of them is to repay gifts with other gifts. As the Hávamál goes: “To his friend a man should be a friend and repay gifts with gifts. (Vin sínum skal maðr vinr vera ok gjalda gjǫf við gjǫf.)33” One consequence of this rule is that it may be a burden to receive a gift if one is not ready to pay it back. This situation is exemplified in Hávamál stanza 48 where the poet says: “The miser always sighs when he gets gifts (sýtir æ gløggr við gjǫfum)34.” As such, gift-giving is not only a means to create lasting friendship and cooperations, but also a way to assert social dominance over someone else by giving them more than what they can repay. In medieval Scandinavian poetry, kings are frequently referred to with kennings such as hringmildr35 (“generous with rings”), or stiklir seima36 (“thrower of gold”) to denote their generosity and their ability to distribute wealth to their retainers37. Typically, the king gives physical goods which his retainers repay with their loyalty.
In this regard, it is easy to understand why Markús Skeggjason’s account of the encounter was unfit for Saxo’s purpose. Eiríksdrápa is generally praiseful of King Eric, but in this stanza, it is the Byzantine emperor who appears to be the more magnificent ruler compared to the Danish king. However, Saxo did not merely omit this narrative from his work. Instead, he modified it to make it suitable for his own agenda. It is indeed the habit of Saxo to use and modify previous works rather than to merely ignore them. One blatant example of this method is his use of the information provided by Adam of Bremen’s Gesta Hammaburgensis ecclesiae Pontificum (c. 1070). In the Gesta Danorum, Saxo recounts many historical events which were first described in Adam’s work. For instance, his description of the conversion of Denmark relies on the account of the Gesta Hammaburgensis ecclesiae Pontificum, but Saxo intentionally downplayed the role of the German missionaries in this process38.
In Saxo’s narrative, as in Eiríksdrápa, the Byzantine emperor intends to assert his social domination over King Eric by means of gifts. However, according to the depiction by Saxo, Eric does not want to abide by these rules and refuses the emperor’s gifts. Here the Danish king seems to break one of the rules mentioned in Hávamál’s 48th stanza: one should not refuse to accept gifts. However, Saxo provides a good excuse for Eric; as the narrator states, the king refused them not because he was afraid to repay this gift, but because he spurns physical goods and prefers relics.
In this instance, Saxo subverts the traditional ethos of the gift-giving economy. Saxo represents King Eric’s refusal to accept the emperor’s gift, not as a sign of cowardice but as a sign of his Christian predilection for spiritual goods over material ones. Consequently, the emperor’s gifts cease to be a sign of his magnificence and prodigality: the emperor is a tempter reminiscent of the figure of Satan who tempted Christ with gifts in the desert (Matt. 4:1-11).
Finally, Saxo added to this narrative a part where Eric repays the emperor’s gifts. In doing so Eric avoided being stuck in the position of the receiver, and thus as a social inferior to the emperor. As such, the Danish king dominates the Byzantine emperor both on the spiritual and on the political level. Saxo evidently crafted this narrative to show that Danish rulers could deal on equal footings with the most powerful leaders of the Christian world. As in the narrative regarding Othinus, Saxo’s description of Greeks and Byzantium is hardly positive, but as I will argue in the following part, this episode is especially meaningful when it is read within the wider context of the whole Gesta Danorum and compared with the episode regarding Othinus.
The Place of these Episodes Within the Structure of the Gesta Danorum
As shown in table below (tab. 1), there are at least four elements in these two narratives which may be seen as mirroring each other. The first, and most evident, is the two narratives’ common description of an interaction between Scandinavia and Byzantium. The second is their common description of producing a physical depiction representing either the Byzantine ruler or a Nordic king. The third is the role of bribery in unveiling the true nature of a king. Finally, the fourth is the narratives’ respective representations of the monarchs’ love or contempt for gold.
The Gesta Danorum is, however, a sizeable work of literature which contains countless narratives, and the similarity between the two of them could be a mere coincidence. An element which strengthens the idea that these two episodes were willingly designed to mirror each other is their place within the Gesta Danorum. According to Inge Skovgaard-Petersen, the Gesta Danorum is written according to a fourfold structure39. This means that the work is composed of two main parts, each of which is then divided into two subparts. The principal axis of division, which separates the two main parts, is the conversion of Denmark to Christianity which happens in Book X. The pagan part is divided in two halves by the birth of Christ, which occurs in Book V, while the pivotal axis of the Christian part is the foundation of the archdiocese of Lund in Book XII. This structure allowed Saxo to draw ideologically significant parallels between the distant past and the historical period. The creation of Lund’s archbishopric, for instance, becomes the historical equivalent to the birth of Christ.
Tab. 1 : Parallels Between the Two Episodes
| Othinus’ Golden Statue | Eric’s journey to Byzantium |
| Nordic kings send a gift to Bizantium | A Nordic king travels to Byzantium |
| Depiction made to fuel narcistic impulse | Depiction made to remember a just king |
| Bribery of a servant brings dishonor to the king | Bribery proves that the king is honorable |
| Love of gold is the primary motivation of the narrative | Eric refuses and shuns gold |
The fourfold structure of the Gesta Danorum, as theorized by Skovgaard-Petersen, is efficient in explaining Saxo’s portrayal of paganism (fig. 1). In accordance with this structure, the spiritual journey of the Danes is not merely a journey from paganism to Christianity, but also from the converted to the converters. The last subpart, which begins in Book XII, marks the culmination of this journey as the Danish church becomes independent, and the Danes become converters during the Baltic Crusades. The two episodes involving Byzantium are located at key locations within this structure. As illustrated in the diagram below, the first one is located at the start of the first subpart, which describes an era of unchallenged paganism, and the second one at the beginning of the last subpart which marks the birth of the independent Danish church:
In effect, when read together these two episodes solve an apparent contradiction within the Gesta Danorum. In his work, Saxo wants to demonstrate the positive role that the Church played in Danish History. But at the same time, the author vehemently defends the idea that Denmark should be independent from foreign power. These two imperatives are sometimes at odds: Denmark was an independent entity in pagan era, whereas one of the consequences of the Christianization was the creation of a Danish church under the authority of the Hamburg archbishopric. In the first narrative, Saxo represents paganism as a state of submission to false gods but also to a Byzantine ruler. On the contrary, in the second episode, the Danish king is a triumphant Christian ruler who does not bow before anybody, not even the Byzantine emperor. Thus, Saxo creates a sense of advancement in Danish history: from an insignificant pagan realm submitted to Byzantine pseudo-gods, Denmark became a powerful Christian kingdom whose kings can deal on an equal footing with Byzantine emperors. No Scandinavian author before Saxo located the pseudo-gods in Byzantium, and only one Icelandic poet referred to Eric’s stay in Byzantium. Furthermore, Sven Aggesen did not refer to this event which must mean that it was not deemed particularly significant by previous authors. As such, Saxo was not bound by any preexisting literary tradition to include Byzantium in his narrative, and we must consider his choice to do so as deliberate and significant.
Fig. 1: The fourfold structure of the Gesta Danorum
Realisation : Jules Piet; CC BY NC SA.
To explain this choice, I propose to compare not only the similarities between these two narratives but also to look at the abnormalities we have identified in each of them.
The main oddity in the first narrative is that the statue of Othinus created by the Nordic kings does not act as an object of worship but as a gift. Secondly, this gift is sent to Byzantium where Othinus is supposed to live according to Saxo although no other sources ever mentioned this. The abnormality in the second narrative is Saxo’s description of the making of a portrait of King Eric, an event otherwise unknown in the Eiríksdrápa. These abnormalities are easily explained if we consider that Saxo wanted to design these two narratives as mirroring each other; Saxo included gift-giving and Byzantium in his narrative about Othinus because these motifs are present in the story about King Eric, and he included the making of the portrait of a ruler in the narrative about King Eric because it is an essential aspect of Othinus’ narrative.
This reading is in accordance with a widespread hypothesis according to which Saxo first wrote Books X to XVI, and only then Books I to IX40. Indeed, one of the main commonalities between the two narratives is the presence of Byzantium, which must mean that Saxo wrote, or at least modified, his narrative in Book I to make it similar to his narrative in Book XII. However, we also see that Saxo likely modified his narrative in Book XII to include a motif from Book I: the making of a portrait. This suggests that Saxo probably reworked the entirety of the Gesta Danorum after it was written in order to ensure its internal consistency, and to make individual episodes fit better in the structure of the work.
Conclusion: Byzantium, the Schismatics and the Empire
In conclusion, I have shown how Saxo used the structure of the Gesta Danorum to give meaning to the motif of Byzantium, and to use it as a symbol of otherness, grandiloquence, and arrogance which, by contrast, highlights the Danes’ simplicity and humility. What remains to explain is why Saxo did this. Throughout the Gesta Danorum, Saxo usually presents the Germans or the Wends as being the traditional enemies of the Danes but barely ever mentions Byzantium beyond the two episodes I discussed.
I referred earlier to the idea, defended by Muceniecks, according to which Saxo’s negative portrayal of the East is likely related to the political context of the Baltic Crusades. Indeed, to Saxo, the East is where pagan tribes live. But we may also consider the fact that the Baltic Crusades, although primarily directed against pagans, also led to conflicts between Catholic crusaders and Orthodox principalities which also aimed to extend their own influence in the Baltic region. The Cronicon Lyvoniae41 written c. 1229 by Henry of Latvia testifies to the animosity from Catholic intellectuals towards eastern Christians which they portray as “sterile” Christians, unable, or unwilling, to convert pagans. Korben K. Nielsen remarks: “The further the German Church under the leadership of Bishop Albert of Riga pushed the borders of paganism to the North, the more confrontationally and dismissively Henry wrote of the Russians42.” We may note that this contempt, or even frank hostility was reciprocated, and that Orthodox Christians also portrayed Catholics as heretics43. Contrary to Henry of Latvia, Saxo did not produce any explicitly anti-orthodox comments, but it is possible that his representation of Byzantium as a place of idolatry is an allegorical criticism of Orthodox Christianity. These types of literary exaggerations were common in medieval literature, and it is for instance possible that Adam of Bremen’s description of pagan rituals at Uppsala were in fact a veiled criticism of other Christians44.
Furthermore, Byzantium is not only the seat of another branch of Christian religion. It is also the capital city of the Eastern Roman Empire. In that regard, Byzantium may represent the imperial idea and, by extension, symbolize the Holy Roman Empire which retains imperial authority in the Roman Catholic world. To Saxo, Rome is certainly a model45, but the current holders of the imperial title, the Holy Roman emperors, are a threat to Danish independence and identity. In Book XIV of the Gesta Danorum Saxo recounts how King Valdemar was fooled into submission by the German Emperor Frederick Barbarossa despite Absalon’s good advice. Saxo is evidently troubled by this situation and insists on the fact that this submission did not bind Valdemar’s successors46. To address this issue, Saxo distinguishes Danish identity from the Trojan one, which, while prestigious, could also serve to justify Danish submission to the Holy Roman Emperor. In this regard, Saxo did not only reject the motif of Trojan origin, he subverted this myth and gave a new negative valence to the East and to the empire. To Saxo, Byzantium was the perfect motif to represent the polar opposite of Denmark as it could aptly symbolize both the imperial idea and religious otherness. In the Gesta Danorum, Byzantium is a decadent and corrupt Rome, which symbolizes the obsolescence of the imperial idea, and, by contrast, the sovereignty of the Danish kingdom.
