The Map Collector

In verse 145, we learn that it’s better not to pray than to ask for too much, because you will have to pay for whatever is given. It’s also better to sacrifice nothing than too much. Odin carved these warnings before Man was born, and before Odin rose up and returned.

The heart of this verse is a bit of wisdom given by Odin before any human being walked the earth, so I’ll start with that context. Odin carved this message, probably in runes, after rising up and before returning. That’s a cryptic bit, but it probably refers to the time after which he hung himself from Yggdrasil and before he brought the runes and other knowledge back. Part of me also wonders if there wasn’t a little friendly competition between the poet of Havamal and his contemporary Christians—oh yeah? We got a guy who rose up and returned, too.
( Read more... )

In verse 143, we learn that Odin carved the runes for the gods, Dain for the elves, Dvalin for the dwarves, Asvid for the giants, and the narrator also carved runs, perhaps for humans.

There are apparently multiple sets of runes. Is it a single set translated for different levels of being, or does each of these groups have a piece of a whole? We don’t know, but importantly it was Odin who learned the runes in order to share them with the gods. ( Read more... )

In verse 141, Odin says he began to be fruitful and wise; that word followed word, and deed followed deed in a continuous flow..

I encourage readers to look this verse up in the book, or in their favorite translation. If you had to choose a single verse in all of Havamal as a goal, you could do much worse than verse 141. In the aftermath of his great personal sacrifice and his study of magic and tasting of the mead of inspiration, things start to come together for Odin. He begins to connect what he’s learned. Once isolated lessons join to others and something like an understanding emerges. He speaks not in spurts of brilliance, but growing chains. He acts not occasionally with skill, but time and again without interruption. Faltering efforts gain momentum. He begins to live a life created from the mouth and hands of a wise man.( Read more... )

Verse 139 says that during Odin’s time hanging, no one gave him food or drink. When the period was over, he looked down and took the runes, screaming, and fell.

Odin’s taking of the runes involves quite an ordeal, like some initiation or rite of passage. We use those terms blandly now, but in other cultures, other places, these were serious rites requiring a significant degree of sacrifice on the part of the partaker. Fasting from food and drink were common, often until some vision appeared. It was not unheard of for a youth passing into adulthood, for example, to be seriously injured or killed during one of these trials. To gain something worthwhile requires an equivalent risk.( Read more... )

In verse 137, Odin counsels Loddfafnir thusly:

When you drink beer,
choose the might of the earth,
for the earth is good against beer,
and fire against sickness,
oak against an irritable bowel,
wheat against magic,
an elder-tree against family quarrels,
maggots against venomous bites,
runes against evil,
ground against water.
Swear your hate beneath the moon.


I have reproduced this verse in quotation instead of summary, since it would be difficult to summarize without merely quoting. Copyright law allows for the quotation of short passages, and I feel it will benefit the reader to hear the exact remedies.

For the most part, this verse is a list of just that: remedies against afflictions. At least in the metaphorical sense, most of these things seem to have contrary properties to the things they cure. For example, earth is solid an immovable, as opposed to the roiling liquid passions of beer, while fire warms a cold and helps you to sweat out a fever.( Read more... )

In verse 135, Odin counsels Loddfafnir not to spite or spit at the coming of a guest, but to treat a poor wanderer well.

The arrival of a guest should not bring out scorn or resentment. It’s possible to receive someone begrudgingly, and let him know it, so that while he may be fed and sheltered, he feels the chill of the welcome. Equally, some hosts may verbally rebuke their guest, reminding him that he only enjoys hospitality due to some obligation rather than a kind heart. Odin dismisses such an attitude.( Read more... )

Verse 133 tells us that we who reside in the house will rarely know much about the stranger who knocks, but no man is so good as to be flawless, and no man so bad as to be worthless.

There isn’t much left of the culture of receiving strangers. We don’t have a hospitality code that gives us clear guidelines—or rather, our codes of hospitality pertain to other situations more commonly faced. Up until very recently in history, though, it would not have been unusual for a traveler to seek a pallet in the barn, a meal, or directions to a hospitable place. ( Read more... )

In verse 131, Odin counsels Loddfafnir to be wary, though not fearful, of three things: drinking, other men’s women, and about men and their temptation to steal.

While danger can come from any quarter, there are a few everyday situations which are ripe for pain if we’re not careful. The first is probably the most obvious, yet the source of more error than the other two combined. I knew from an early age, when a sherriff’s deputy and a dog mascot showed up at our school to teach us about substance abuse in the D.A.R.E. program, that drinking can get you in trouble. Maybe I needed to hear it from Odin, because the warning went unheeded. I did in fact make it through my 20’s and 30’s relatively unscathed, but it was due to luck more than personal virtue. I’ve tempered greatly since then, and have come to understand the warning in a way that mere words won’t convey. Alcohol loosen inhibitions, and if what we were inhibiting was behavior that harms ourselves or others, well, you know how that goes. I doubt Odin is suggesting that we all quit drinking entirely, though for some, that’s the best and only option. For most, moderation and a heightened sense of awareness surrounding the activity will spare us a lot of suffering.
( Read more... )

In verse 129, Odin counsels Loddfafnir not to look up when he’s in a fight, or else he may go mad. Also, to beware lest someone curse him.

When Odin cautions our old friend Loddfafnir not to look up, he may mean to avoid gazing over the head of the opponent before you to feel the press of the entire army behind him; or maybe there’s a metaphorical sense of men who stare at the sky going crazy. Either way, when one finds himself in a battle, it’s best to remain focused on the task at hand. To imagine yourself facing a horde of screaming foes will overwhelm the fiercest warrior. But in truth, you only ever have to deal with the handful of enemies within spear’s reach at any one time. ( Read more... )

In verse 127, Odin counsels Loddfafnir that when he recognizes evil, he should call it evil, and give his enemies no peace.

In his book “Skin in the Game,” Nassim Nicholas Taleb makes the argument that it is an ethical imperative to call out a fraud loudly and publicly as soon as you spot one. I don’t know if he was channeling Havamal, but Odin got there some time before. His advice to reveal evil and hound the doers is more radical and less utilized than it seems.

I will let each reader make his or her own determination of what evil means, and what qualifies. For my purposes, it’s that which diverges from the values of the divine, and as a god of the Norse pantheon, we are talking about Odin as one of those standards from which it might diverge (though based on other verses, I doubt he would consider himself the only determining factor). Therefore recognizing evil at all becomes a bit of a trick that we have to learn through experience. Even in systems where it’s clearly codified, it can be difficult to tell whether certain actions fall within those bounds, and there will be others that seem wrong but were overlooked. While laws and human language make nice efforts at isolating it, I think they can mislead as often. And ultimately, what do they refer to but a feeling of some dissonance wavering across a divine harmony? Evil is like bad art: I know it when I see it.

And when I see something, I should say something. This suggests to me that not everyone is equally capable of spotting it in all instances. Those who live closest to the divine will probably do best, but we all have off days, and it’s important to help one another out. By pointing at evil, we aid our neighbors in avoiding it, but we may also awaken the perpetrator to the fact that his actions are vile, and he faces community rebuke if he continues. This seems like a no-brainer. In fact, anyone who calls out evil consistently is likely to have a very difficult life of sacrifice with little thanks.

Most of us would never ignore a murder or an act of child abuse, but there are many lesser evils that it is not only safer to ignore, but also more beneficial. Unearned rewards accrue to evildoers, and those who allow them to continue. Sometimes the evils are quite small, and our call-out can irk our family and friends. Or they may be a necessary part of our business. What if you felt it was evil to destroy the biosphere for selfish pillage? Many people do, and say so, but how many of those same refuse to stop burning fossil fuels for heat or travel, or in the manufacture of their consumer goods, or their food supply? Sometimes evils are so baked into the metaphysics of a culture that there can be no fighting them short of changing your basic belief structures and forfeiting whatever companionship you enjoy with the members of that—your—culture. To apply this directive consistently quickly leads to difficulty.( Read more... )