Slow Havamal: 62

[kylec]

The 62nd verse says that hungry eagles snap and stretch out their necks when they spot the sea. People have the same look walking among strangers when there’s no one to speak well of them.

I have to admit I’m not entirely sure how to read this verse. People are likened to a hungry eagle when they meet others and have no reference to pump them up. It’s not a metaphor I’d think to draw. Maybe I haven’t seen enough eagles sighting the water. I’ll do my best, with the disclaimer that I may be misinterpreting the verse entirely.

An eagle gets excited when it sees the water because it wants a fish. It can practically taste it. A man among strangers also wants something, and it shows on his face. He scans the area for certain types of people, certain opportunities. He may run his mouth to anyone who’ll listen. The scene reminds me of walking into a gathering when friends haven’t arrived yet and having to force small talk with people I’ve never seen and probably won’t again.

Havamal is a text of advice. What are we to learn from this? A man without a reputation will have to use his eagle eye to spot his opportunities. He enters with some desperation, and the outcome is uncertain. The signs show in his demeanor—too eager, lacking confidence. This is a tough crowd. They have no reason to accommodate, and might even approach him with skepticism. Why doesn’t this man’s reputation precede him? Maybe he doesn’t have one. The finer qualities are lacking, or if that’s unfair, they haven’t been shared with enough people that he can get an introduction and earn the favor that comes to a friend of a friend. Like a wild animal, he must hunt for his food.

Learning the character of a newcomer takes time and effort. Until we do, we can hardly open our doors for him. Better to have a reliable source summarize the important parts. That way, we know in an instant what to expect and what to look out for. It seems to me that Odin is painting an unhappy picture of the desperate stranger. So how do we avoid that situation? Let our good deeds go before us.

It isn’t always possible to be known, or to be introduced. If we travel far, we’re likely to enter a few rooms hungry and anonymous. But we can be known for good character in our families and communities by simply putting in the work. It often amazes me what small acts people notice, for good and ill. To only behave when we think others are watching will quickly expose your true character. We can’t be selective jerks and expect it to go unnoticed for long. Luckily, the same is true of virtuous deeds. People talk. You’re being introduced to others as you read this, via stories your acquaintances tell, or the way they behave around you.

The wider our sphere of introductions extends, the more welcome we find ourselves. Someone who makes a habit of friendship is often recognized even in a land of strangers by his openness and good cheer. That habit has a way of curing the desperate, drawn out look that men sometimes get when they’re forced into new company alone and unheard of. I could be missing the point of the verse entirely, but I think the argument still stands: social ties can feed us or starve us. The chance of a fine introduction goes up when we live in a fine way—especially when we think even the highest-flying eagle can’t see us.