Anonymous asked:
thank you so much for the help! Do you think one can identify as ergi/argr as a gender? I know you said it was used as an insult but to reclaim it and use it as your own. Anyway I would love to hear more about your thoughts and views on things, if you care to explain.
Another anonymous asked:
Hello, regarding that last ask, I actually really would like to hear more about ergi/argr, and if you knew anything about the seiðskrattar. I read an article about them blurring/crossing gender boundaries, so I was interested in finding out more.
Since you have both asked about the same topic, I decided to answer them together. Hopefully neither of you mind me doing so. Before I begin, here are some definitions* which will help in the discussions to come:
- níð (noun, n.) — contumely, derision; libel; insult (of which there are many kinds)
- ergi (noun, f.) — lewdness, lust; wickedness, devilry (and not always in a Christian sense)
- argr (adj. form of ergi) — unmanly, effeminate, cowardly; lewd; wicked, pernicious
- regi (noun, f.) — cowardice
- ragr (adj. form of regi) — craven, cowardly; emasculate, effeminate
- seiðskratti (pl. seiðskrattar; noun, m.) — wizard (the connotation in this case, though, is that the man practicing seiðr is also considered argr)
* All definitions come from Geir T. Zoëga’s A Concise Dictionary of Old Icelandic (pages 314, 19, 118, 328, 333, and 353 respectively).
Linguistically speaking, word meaning changes all the time. In theory, then, one could use the term ergi today for their identity (thus being a man who identifies as effeminate, and takes pride in such), but that is not something that I personally, as a historian, would recommend. There is nothing to reclaim, since it seems that its original purpose was not only to slander men who played the passive role in homosexual intercourse (there was no shame in playing the active role), but to also shame men who did not act — men who did not kill to defend their honor. What we would be ‘reclaiming’ in altering the use of argr (and others like it) would be the voice of passive men (in general and not just sexually or in terms of gender) in Norse history. That is a good and noble cause, but doing so would somewhat disregard the historical usage of the term; our sources would always mean to use it negatively, even if we begin to view it positively.
I understand that the point of ‘reclaiming’ the word is to empower passive men (to change the tone from negative to positive), but the removal from their cultural context and placement into ours makes me uneasy. Besides, it was not always about gender nor sexual preference, but rather about not defending yourself and your reputation. Furthermore, there are risks involved with that kind of process, such as people beginning to misunderstand Norse society, which was not at all as welcoming of passive homosexual behavior as Western society can be today. I honestly mean no ill in my hesitation, for I have nothing against such men. If using this term to describe yourself empowers you, don’t let me stop you (and I use ‘you’ generally here, for anyone to whom it may apply) — just tread with a bit of caution.
Let’s look at a few instances where these words are used in some of our primary sources. I should provide the Old Norse texts along with the English versions, but I do not have easy access to all of what I would need. As a result, I will be consistent and keep to English-only text.
In the Grágás, medieval Icelandic law, calling a man effeminate was a crime that permitted the victim to kill the one casting the slander. This was no minor crime!
“There are three expressions, if words between men ever get so bad, for all of which the penalty is full outlawry: if a man calls another man womanish or says he has been buggered or fucked. And they are to be prosecuted like other words requiring full personal compensation, and in retaliation for those three words a man also has the right to kill. On account of words a man has the right to kill within the same time-limit as on account of women, for both up to the next General Assembly, and the man who says these words falls with forfeit immunity at the hands of all who accompany the man of whom they were said to the place of action.”1
In Þorsteins þáttr stangarhǫggs, one of those three words (ragr) is used against Thorstein by his own father. Thorstein had gotten hurt in a horse-fight, which was a popular game in Iceland; he was injured by a man named Thord, who then took credit for it as an attack and gave him the derogatory nickname of Staff-struck to reference the injury (which gave Thord great honor every time it was used against Thorstein). Thorstein, at first, tried to play it off as a mere accident, but his father knew better. His father, Thorarin, wanted him to kill Thord for vengeance, thus redeeming his honor. Not long after, Thorarin confronts Thorstein for having done nothing about this name-calling.
“ ‘What can you tell me, son, about the horse-fight that took place last summer? Weren’t you knocked unconscious, kinsman, like a dog?’
‘I do not see the honor,’ said Thorstein, ‘in calling it an attack rather than an accident.’
Thorarin said, ‘I would not have thought that I had a coward (ragr) for a son.’
‘Do not say anything now, father,’ said Thorstein, ‘that you will later learn is an exaggeration.’
‘I will say as much now,’ said Thorarin, ‘as I have mind to.’
Thorstein then got up and grabbed his weapons. He then set off and walked over to the barn where Thord was taking care of Bjarni’s horses. Thord was there.”2
Thorstein actually asks Thord nicely if the injury he caused back during that summer was an accident or on purpose, to which Thord replies nastily. They fight, then, and Thorstein kills him. Notice, though, that Thorstein was called ragr simply for not killing those who called him by a foul name. Being called ragr, or even a similar term, did not always mean that the person was actually sexually effeminate. This was, however, another aspect of the law that should be considered (for it reflects upon the tendencies of society). Norse society did not tolerate name-calling, for it damaged one’s honor:
“If a man gives someone a name he did not have before, then the penalty is lesser outlawry if he is prepared to take offense at it. Similarly, for anyone who spreads it in mockery of a man the penalty is lesser outlawry. He is to prosecute with a panel of twelve.”3
In Brennu-Njáls saga, a man named Thorvald the Sickly used the term argr in a verse against the missionary Thangbrand (it was to a friend of his, Ulf Uggason, who he wanted to attack and kill Thangbrand) who had come to convert Iceland to Christianity:
“I, Ygg of armor
send this order to Ulf —
I’m fond of the son of Uggi,
the steerer of steel —
that he crush the cowardly (argr)
blaspheming cur
agains the loud lodge of Geitir,
and I’ll look after another.”4
To return to a sexual context, in Ǫlkofra saga a man named Thorkel Scarf is implied to having been argr while on his way to the Spring Assembly. In this example, Thorkel is compared to his mare who was mounted by a stallion, which is meant to be read as an analogy for his own sexual intercourse with another male (in which he was the passive role). Yet, this could have also been meant directly. Either way, Thorkel had been buggered.
“But it was a blunder you made last spring when you were riding to the Spring Assembly and were not on the lookout for Steingrim’s seal-fat stallion, which mounted you from behind, while the bony mare you were riding collapsed under you. I have not heard for a fact which of you he nailed, but men saw you pinned for a long time, because the stallion had its feet over your cloak.”5
In the end, these terms were used in a variety of ways, but most often to generally insult a man. It is important to mention that these men were not always passive sexual partners with other men; the insult was often used to call a man a coward. In fact, even if they had been a passive partner, it was not always by choice. I have heard that, in Sturlunga saga (of which I do not have a copy on hand to use), a man planned to have another man raped for sexual humiliation. Thus, to consider the term an identity for such men would not consider all of these victims to both rape and pure slander. Yet, the truth still stands that, given the amount of terms and examples of them being used as insults, men like that most definitely existed in Norse society. Unfortunately, though, Norse society did not respect those men, and I imagine that many men lived difficult lives as a result.
As for seiðskrattar, there is very little that I know. A man named Thorgrim Nef is mentioned as being a seiðskratti in Gísla saga Súrssonar, but little is said about the nature of his gender.6 The author is obviously not very fond of him, though. He is described as “the worst kind of sorcerer imaginable”, and later the author mentions how he made a scaffold “to practice his obscene and black art in despicable perversity.”7 Other than that, I do not believe that I have the resources, nor the familiarity with seiðr, to provide much more insight than you have already read about, especially specifically in terms of argr men. I do apologize for my shortcomings in that realm of knowledge.8
I hope you both have found my thoughts interesting, at the very least. The topic of men not living up to the standards of Norse masculinity is quite a fascinating topic, I must say. If there is anything else either of you need (or anyone else, for that matter), please do not hesitate to ask.
Footnotes
- Andrew Denis, Peter Foote, and Richard Perkins trans., Laws of Early Iceland: Grágás II (Winnipeg: University of Manitoba Press, 2000), 354. (Hereafter listed as Grágás II). ↩︎
- Anthony Maxwell trans., The Tale of Thorstein Staff-struck, from The Complete Sagas of Icelanders: Including 49 Tales, Vol. IV, edited by Viðar Hreinsson, Robert Cook, Terry Gunnell, Keneva Kunz, and Bernard Scudder (Reykjavík: Leifur Eiríksson Publishing, 1997), 335-6. ↩︎
- Grágás II, 196. ↩︎
- Robert Cook trans., Njal’s Saga, from The Complete Sagas of Icelanders: Including 49 Tales, Vol. III, edited by Viðar Hreinsson, Robert Cook, Terry Gunnell, Keneva Kunz, and Bernard Scudder (Reykjavík: Leifur Eiríksson Publishing, 1997), 124. (Chapter 102.) ↩︎
- John Tucker trans., Olkofri’s Saga, from The Complete Sagas of Icelanders: Including 49 Tales, Vol. V, edited by Viðar Hreinsson, Robert Cook, Terry Gunnell, Keneva Kunz, and Bernard Scudder (Reykjavík: Leifur Eiríksson Publishing, 1997), 237. ↩︎
- Martin S. Regal trans., Gisli’s Saga, from The Complete Sagas of Icelanders: Including 49 Tales, Vol. II, edited by Viðar Hreinsson, Robert Cook, Terry Gunnell, Keneva Kunz, and Bernard Scudder (Reykjavík: Leifur Eiríksson Publishing, 1997), 11. (Chapter 11.) ↩︎
- Ibid., 11, 21. ↩︎
- A relevant and insightful read is Gunnora Hallakarva:
The Vikings and Homosexuality. I used it a bit myself to familiarize myself with the subject and locate possible examples to share with you all through my own response. ↩︎
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