Revelation according to the Vikings
By Matthew Claridge–
In the back of J.R.R. Tolkien’s The Legend of Sigurd and Gudrun
“I include this poem by my father in rhyming couplets as a companion to the altogether distinct Upphaf to the Lay of the Volsungs, since it also was inspired by the Eddaic poem Voluspa. It is found in a single very fine decorated manuscript; of an earlier work there is no trace. There is no evidence of any kind for its date, but on general grounds I would be inclined to ascribe it to the 1930s.”
The first sentence could certainly be read to imply that this is an Old Norse poem but the clearest evidence comes from its description as a “fine decorated manuscript.” A decorated manuscript sound more like a medieval text of some sort. On the other hand, when Tolkien Jr. says this poem was “inspired” by other Nordic works, he could be saying that Tolkein Sr. was inspired to compose the poem himself. More importantly, Tolkien Jr. dates this “decorated manuscript” to the 1930s. Now, the “manuscript” could be Tolkein Sr.’s translation, which he evidently “decorated” like an illuminated manuscript (strange, but not improbable given the bent of Tolkien’s mind). But the drift of the last two sentences, I think, gives us enough warrant for suggesting this as Tolkien’s own original work.
I belabor the point because it does make a difference in how we finally interpret this poem. Once read, it is difficult to avoid noticing parallels with the Christian story-line. If this is an original poem composed by Nordic pagans, it would represent a remarkable analogy of Christian ideas, particularly the events of Revelation. If it’s a creation of Tolkein himself, I could only assume that he has cloaked his Christian worldview in the garb of Nordic myth. In that case, it would represent a re-telling of Christian eschatology that, far from detracting from the Scriptural account, imbues it with a startling different poetic effect. As such Tolkien is re-telling the tale of the Apocalypse in the symbolism of the Far North rather than that of the Near East.
In any event, in this post I want to tease out some of the connections I see between Tolkien’s poem and the Christian narrative. I think the events recorded in the poem fit particularly well with the final verses of Rev. 20 beginning with vv. 7. Here’s the poem:
From the East shall come the Giant of old And shield of stone before him hold; The Serpent that the world doth bind In towering wrath shall him unwind And move the Outer Sea profound, Till all is loosed that once was bound. Unloosed at last shall then set forth the ship of shadow from the North the host of Hel shall cross the sea and Loki shall from chain be free, and with the wolf shall monsters all upon the world then ravening fall. Then Surtur from the South shall fare And tree-devouring fire shall bear That bright as sun on swords shall shine In battle of the hosts divine; The hills of stone shall bend their head; All men the paths of death shall tread. Then darkened shall the sunlight be, And Earth shall founder under sea, And from the cloven heavens all The gleaming stars shall flee and fall; The steam shall rise in roaring spires and heaven’s roof be licked with fires. A house there is that sees no sun, Dark-builded on the beaches dun Where cold waves wash the Deadly Shore, And northward looks its shadowy door; The louver poisoned rain lets fall, of woven serpents in the wall. Laden in heavy streams there wade Men perjured, men who have betrayed The trust of friend; and there the coward And wolvish murderer is devoured: the dragon who yet Yggdrasil gnaws at the roots there takes his fill. Dim-flying shall that dragon haste. Over the beaches dark and waste, Up from the Nether-fells shall spring bearing those corpses under wing, then plunge, and sea close o’er his head for ever, o’er the doomed and the dead. At last once more uprising slow The Earth from Ocean green shall grow, And falls of water shimmering pour From her high shoulders to the shore; The eagle there with lonely cry Shall hunt the fish on mountain high. The younger gods again shall meet In Idavelir’s pastures sweet, And tales shall tell of ancient doom, The Serpent and the fire and the gloom, And that old king of Gods recall His might and wisdom ere the fall. There marvelous shall again be found Cast in the grass upon the ground The golden chess wherewith they played When Asgard long ago was made, When all their counts were filled with gold In the first merriment of old. A house I see that standeth there Bright-builded, than the Sun more fair: O’er Gimlé shine its tiles of gold, Its halls no grief nor evil hold, And there shall worthy men and true In living days delight pursue. Unsown shall fields of wheat grow white When Baldur cometh after night; The ruined halls of Ódin’s host, The windy towers on heaven’s coast, Shall golden be rebuilt again, All ills be healed in Baldur’s reign.Michael Ward, working from C.S. Lewis, describes a piece of literature as “something made” (poiema) and “something said” (logos). The former emphasizes the poetic effect the work has on the heart and imagination of the reader; the latter emphasizes the supposed point, moral, or ‘this is that’ meaning of the work. Referring to the Chronicles, Ward makes the excellent observation: “Too often critics (both friendly and hostile) have treated the Chronicles as if they were principally works of propaganda and have exchanged their poetry for a pot of message.” (Planet Narnia, 22) I think we need to keep this point in mind lest what I do in the next few paragraphs reduce Tolkien’s poem to precisely that, a pot of message. (What an memorable expression!)
The first three stanzas depict the unloosing of Satan following the Millennium (“Loki,” “Serpent”) and the gathering of Gog and Magog (the “Giant of old”) against the saints of the holy city (“the host divine”—but could be a more generic reference to all the combatants). The fourth stanza describes the end of the world in which the earth is “stored up for fire” (2 Pet 3.6) and the celestial bodies are shaken (2 Pet. 3.10; Rev. 20.11).
The eternal destiny of the damned is the theme of the fifth and sixth stanzas. Their eternal abode is not described as a lake burning with fire but as a desolate, sunless meeting hall practically submerged in frigid arctic waters (Jude 13). The residents of this hall are listed by their crimes, not unlike lists found in the Apocalypse (Rev. 21.8). Here, the damned exist in a perpetual state of being devoured by their infernal overlords. the dragon who once gnashed with eternal malice on the roots of the world (Yggdrasil), will now spend his malice on the interned damned. Quite a horrific picture—and one found elsewhere in Western Literature, particularly Dante’s picture of Satan gnawing on his prey in the pit of Hell.
The eternal destiny of the blessed occupies the rest of the poem. The opening seventh stanza describes the emergence of the New Heaven and New Earth (‘uprising slow / the Earth from Ocean green shall grow”) with a primary focus on the renewal of the natural world. Beginning with stanza eight on to the end the focus rests on the glorified saints who inhabit this new world. A new, glorious meeting Hall will be their eternal abode. Images of gold and a land of supernal fruitfulness all recalls images associated with the New Jerusalem.
Only in the last paragraph is the strongest reference to Christ himself made in the image of Baldur. Baldur was the second son of Odin, the king of the gods, who was put to death by deceitful means. In the legend, this god would rise again to reign over the world following the Norse Apocalypse, Ragnarök (which this poem is basically describing). “All ills be healed in Baldur’s reign.”
Of course, what I like most about this poem is how all these themes are put (‘something made’). The Norse imagery and poetic structure (reminiscent of Tolkien’s Dwarvish poetry in The Hobbit) all call to my mind something remotely old and primeval. It’s a delicious experience.
Matthew Claridge (M.Div. Trinity Evangelical Divinity School, Th.M. Southern Baptist Theological Seminary) is an editor with Credo Magazine and the senior pastor of Mt. Idaho Baptist church in Grangeville, Idaho. He is married to Cassandra and has three children.
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