DREAMS IN ICELANDIC TRADITION

by Gabriel Turville-Petre
Nine Norse Studies (1972), pp. 30-51.
Originally published in Folklore vol. 69 (1958).

According to a proverb, which has been popular in Iceland for

many centuries, dreams have no significance (ekki er mark at
draumum). When these words are uttered, they often serve as the
introduction to a story illustrating the deep significance of a dream
or its prophetic value. Among no people in Europe is the cult of
dreams so deeply rooted. In no literature are dream-symbols more
sophisticated, nor their interpretation more subtle and intricate.

As is well known, Iceland was first peopled, chiefly by

Norwegians, in the ninth century, and Icelandic historians of the
thirteenth century wrote not only about the dreams of their own
countrymen but also about those of their Scandinavian kinsmen and
ancestors. One of the oldest of the dreams recorded is the famous
one of Ragnhildr, queen of Hálfdan the Black (ninth century).
Ragnhildr dreamed that she took a thorn or brooch from her tunic, and
as she held it in her hand it took root in the soil and grew into a
stout tree, so tall that she could scarcely see over it. The bowl of
the tree was red as blood, the upper stem was a beautiful green, and
the branches white as snow. The limbs were so great and so many that
they spread over the whole of Norway, and even more distant lands.
Ragnhildr was to be the mother of Haraldr Finehair, first ruler of
all Norway, and it was many years before the dream was fully
explained. The red bowl of the tree signified the battles and
bloodshed of Haraldr's early years; the green stem signified the
glory of his reign; the white summit signified his old age and grey
hair, and the spreading branches symbolized his
descendants distributed throughout Norway, who had ever since
provided the country's rulers.

Dreams of trees, which signify descendants, are common in

Icelandic as in other literatures, and the trees take different
shapes according to the different qualities of the unborn
descendants. In one case a woman dreamed of a tree with roots great
and strong, signifying the prowess of her unborn son, but the blossom
on the tree was poor, and this signified lack of success and of the
good will of his kinsmen. Before the birth of a daughter, the same
woman dreamed of another tree with many branches and splendid
blossom. The daughter would have many descendants and, according to
one version of the story, the blossom signified the new religion, to
which the descendants of this pagan woman would belong. An Icelandic
traveller in Greenland dreamed that he was at home in Iceland, and on
his right knee he had five fine leeks branching out into many leeks.
One of them towered above his head and it had the beauty of gold.
The leeks symbolized the dreamer's descendants, but none of them
equalled Bishop Þorlákr the Saint (died 1193), who was
represented by the golden leek.

The dream of Sigurðr the Jerusalem-farer, king of Norway

(died 1130) is more sombre. Gazing out to sea, he saw a dense fog
approaching, and as it drew nearer it turned out to be a huge tree,
with its roots in the sea and its branches towering in the air. As
the tree struck the shore it broke into fragments, some large and
some small, and they entered: every creek of Norway. The king
interpreted the dream himself. It signified the arrival from Ireland
of Haraldr Gilli, claiming to be a son of Magnús Bareleg, and half-
brother of King Sigurðr. Haraldr shared the kingdom with
Sigurðr, and had many descendants of varying stature. Descendants
may also appear as hair growing on the head of the dreamer. King
Hálfdan, husband of Ragnhildr, fell asleep in a pigsty, and
dreamed that his hair grew profusely, falling in locks of different
colours and length. Some of them reached the ground, others the calf
of the leg or the knee, but some reached only to the neck, and others
seemed to sprout from his head like little horns. One of the locks
exceeded all others in length and beauty. Hálfdan's dream was
quickly explained. He would have many descendants, who would rule
Norway, although not all with equal distinction. The greatest of
them all, it was afterwards said, was represented by the longest and
most beautiful of Hálfdan's locks. He was St. Ólafr, perpetual
king
of Norway (died 1030).

Belief in dream-symbolism implies a belief in fate, and in

Iceland this belief transcended the religious opinions of pagans and
Christians. Not only men, but also the gods are subject to the
decree of an impersonal, insensitive fate. In a poem of great
antiquity, the half-divine Skírnir is made to say: "My destiny was
fashioned down to the last half-day, and all my life was
determined." Heroes face death in exaltation, knowing that none can
live a night after the sentence of the norns (or fates). The future,
therefore, is not something unformed, but it is a state which exists
already. The seer may be aware of it in a waking state, but many
more can see it in dreams, and when they do so it is most often
disguised in symbols. Some are better able to interpret these
symbols than others. The symbols which appear in dreams may be
animate or inanimate, and many examples of both kinds could be quoted
from older and later ages.

Clothing is among the most common of inanimate symbols. If

the dreamer sees a man dressed in red, he will fall in battle. In
the year 1171, a man dreamed that he was wearing a ruffled tunic, and
soon afterwards he was drowned. The ruffled tunic symbolized the
great waves which overcame him.

The most elaborate and artistic dreams of clothing are those

ascribed to Guðrún, heroine of the Laxdœla Saga (ch. 33).
First Guðrún dreamed that she was wearing a headdress which did
not suit her, so she took it off and threw it into the river;
secondly she was wearing a fine silver bracelet, but it dropped from
her arm into the water; thirdly she was wearing a golden bracelet,
but when she fell it split on a stone and blood gushed from it.
Lastly Guðrún dreamed that she was wearing a magnificent golden
helmet, laden with jewels and so heavy that she could hardly hold up
her head, and it fell from her into the fjord.

Only an expert could see the meaning of these four dreams.

The clothing and jewels represented the four husbands of
Guðrún. She would not love the first of them and would leave
him; her second husband would be a distinguished man, but he would
not live long and would die by drowning. Guðrún's third husband
would be nobler than the second, for gold is nobler than silver. As
the golden bracelet was broken by Guðrún's fall, and blood
gushed
from it, so should the death of her third husband result from
Guðrún's own weaknesses, and her husband would die by the
sword. The
fourth husband would be a mighty man, bearing a "helmet of terror"
(œgishjálmr) over his wife. As the helmet fell into the
fjord, so would he be drowned in it.

Many examples of clothes and jewels as symbols in a dream

could be cited from older and later times. During the latter years
of the nineteenth century a woman dreamed that she was wearing a gold
ring which split in two, and soon afterwards two of her children
died. Another woman, living about the same period, dreamed before
her marriage that an unknown man came to her and gave her nine
beautiful buttons, but she lost all except one. She had nine
children and lost all but one. Dream-symbols of this kind are fully
represented in the dream-books circulating in Iceland today. To be
dressed in patched clothes denotes improved circumstances, but torn
clothes denote loss of a friend. The significance of clothes depends
much on their colour.

Considering its importance in the middle ages, it is not

surprising that the sword should figure in dreams described in early
literature. In the Guðrúnarkviða II, Atli dreamed that his
wife, Guðrún, pierced him with a sword. This dream will be
discussed briefly below. A more realistic dream is described in
Heiðarvíga Saga, one of the oldest of the Family Sagas,
probably written about 1200. On the night before a battle in which
he lost his life, a certain Þorbjörn Brúnason dreamed that
he struck
a blow with his sword and it broke in two. Þorbjörn spoke two
verses
in his dream, and remembered them when he awoke.

At all periods the interpretation of some dreams has depended

on word-play, and such interpretations are remembered in countries
other than Iceland. I once heard of an Englishman who dreamed
repeatedly that he was falling down a bank. He saw the meaning of
his dream when he looked into his bank account.

In Iceland this word-play is carried to greater lengths. In

the year 1254, a member of a party riding forth to attack an enemy
dreamed that one of their number, Vigfúss son of Gunnsteinn, had
left them. The party then turned back, for the name Vigfúss means
"Battle-eager," and it is supported by the name of Vigfúss's
father Gunnsteinn, which means "Battle-stone."

While the Great Assembly was sitting at Thingvellir in the

year 1120, a man who was not present dreamed that one came to him
from the meeting. When asked the news, the stranger said that a man
had undertaken to work in all the dwellings at Thingvellir. His name
was Þórir dritloki (dirt-ender), and it signified the outcome of
the Assembly.

As these last examples show, much depends upon the name of

the person who figures in a dream, and symbolism of this kind is very
common in the dreams recorded in later periods. The word björg
means "means of subsistence, stores, provisions, food", and when a
woman called Sæbjörg (sea-provision) appears in a dream, a good
catch of fish may be expected. In contrast, a woman of the name
Ingibjörg (cf. engin björg, "no provisions") betokens famine.
Names containing the elements -berg (rock), -steinn (stone), denoting
hard substances, signify hardship (harðindi).

Word-play is not confined to names. On the night before he

set sail for Norway, in the latter years of the twelfth century, a
certain priest dreamed that he went into the presence of the
archbishop in Niðaróss, and the archbishop welcomed him warmly.
He told his dream to the mystic Guðmundr the Good, afterwards
bishop, who was with him on the voyage. From the word erkibyskup
(archbishop), Guðmundr deduced that an "arch-wonder" (erkibýsn)
would befall them. On the first night at sea their ship was
wrecked.

One of the most fruitful of dreamers was Sverrir (died 1202),

the short-legged apostate priest, who made himself king of Norway.
His biography was written partly by the Icelandic abbot Karl (died c.
1212) and partly by other Icelanders, and the sources of parts of the
story were Sverrir's own words. As an ordained priest, Sverrir was
better educated than his predecessors, and he was well capable of
inventing dreams to further his own ambitions. The influence of
Scripture has been detected in them. But Sverrir had his short legs
firmly rooted in the northern soil, and the solution of some of his
dreams depended on popular word-play. He once dreamed that he was
sleeping in an upper room, when a man of terrifying aspect came to
his bedside. The stranger told Sverrir to get up and follow him, and
he led Sverrir to a huge fire, on which the body of a man was
roasting. The dream-man told Sverrir to sit down and eat, and placed
the human body before him. Sverrir ate the flesh from the bones,
reluctantly at first, but as he ate his appetite grew, and when he
came to the head he wanted to eat that as well, but the dream-man
took it from him and told him to stop. Sverrir interpreted the dream
himself. The man who was roasting in the fire (eldr) was his enemy
Jarl Erlingr, and he was growing old (eldask). When Sverrir devoured
the body it showed that his party would destroy the greater part of
their opponents, but since Sverrir did not eat the head, the young
King Magnús himself would escape.

The saga-hero Viga-Glúmr once dreamed that he walked from his

house and met his enemy, Þórarinn. Unarmed, the two champions
attacked each other with whetstones (harðsteinar), and the
whetstones met with a great crash (brestr hár), which could be
heard throughout the whole neighbourhood (heraðsbrestr). The
significance of the dream is slightly obscure, but it rests on the
word brestr, for besides "crash" this also means "loss." The same
word-play may be noticed in several dreams recorded in recent times.
A woman dreamed that she heard three great crashes out in the east
over the sea, accompanied by blazes of light. Shortly afterwards
news reached Iceland of the death of King Christian IX (1906) and of
two members of his family. Crashes and flashes portend the death of
chieftains.

In early literature animals are common dream-symbols, and in

nearly every case the animal may be regarded as the fylgja (sometimes
called hamingja, hugr), the attendant spirit or fetch, more often
seen in sleep than in a waking state. The belief in the fylgja is
remarkably persistent and survives today. The word fylgja besides
meaning "fetch" also means the "afterbirth of a child," and, in
popular belief, the fetch and the afterbirth are intimately linked.
The conception of the fetch is rather variable. According to some,
the fetch will take the form of the beast which first walks over or
devours the afterbirth. Consequently, we hear of fetches who have
the form of mice, sheep, dogs, foxes, cats, birds of prey or carrion
feeders. We hear also of men and women who have fetches which accord
with their character, and these are the more common in older
literature. Cheats and wizards may be attended by foxes, beautiful
women by swans.

The fetches seen in dreams take the form both of animals seen
in Iceland and of those known only by hearsay. The most common in
the older literature is perhaps the wolf, which has never been seen
in Iceland. Before he was attacked in his house, Atli of Otradalr
dreamed that he saw eighteen wolves led by a vixen, a more vicious
creature than he had ever seen. The leader of the assailants was the
most wicked wizard in the whole of that region.

Wolves appear in many dreams, and they are nearly always the
fetches of enemies. Bears are not necessarily evil, but seldom can
any good be expected from a polar bear.

Horses figure rather rarely in the dreams related in older

literature, and their significance depends much on their colour. A
certain Þorkell silfri dreamed that he was riding a red or
chestnut, galloping so swiftly that he seemed hardly to touch the
ground. Þorkell interpreted his own dream; the red colour was a
token of distinction and good prospects. But Þorkell's wife was
wiser than he, and she quoted the proverb, "a horse is a man's fetch"
(marr er mannsfylgia). A red or bloody fetch was an omen of violent
death, as is told in many sources. The flying horse is also
remembered as an evil omen.

Gisli Súrsson was frequently visited in sleep by two

dreamwomen (draumkonur), the one good and the other evil; the good
dream-woman was mounted on a white horse, and the same was told of
the good attendant spirits who attempted to rescue Þiðrandi
from the pagan attendants of his own family. Horses seem to figure
rather more frequently in modern dream symbolism and still their
significance is chiefly in their colour. To be riding a bay
signifies illness or death, while a dappled grey or a roan signifies
drunkenness and debauchery. A grey signifies severe weather and snow.

In the past, cattle have often appeared in dreams as the

fetches of men. According to Vápnfirðinga Saga, an old nurse
was found weeping over her dreams. They were of bulls and oxen
goring each other to death, and the dreams foretold a feud between
two families which continued through generations. The fetch of
Guðmundr the Mighty (died c. 1025) also appeared in this form. On
the day of Guðmundr's death, his brother dreamed that he saw a
fine ox walking up the district. The ox came to Guðmundr's farm,
went to every building until he reached the high seat, where he
dropped dead.

Fetches in the form of birds are less common than might be

expected. In Gunnlaugs Saga a beautiful girl appeared in a dream
before her birth in the form of a pen swan, and her future lovers
took the form of two eagles, which fought to the death. The third
fetch was a falcon, who flew off with the pen, and represented the
girl's husband. A few examples of bird-fetches could also be quoted
from the Heroic Sagas, and there are some in later Icelandic
literature. Jón Arason, last of the Catholic bishops, was
beheaded by Danish agents in 1550. Before his birth, Jón's mother
had dreamed that she gave birth to an eagle, which alighted on the
gable of a church, and the head flew from his body. In a story
published in the last century, two children appear to their father in
a dream in the form of white birds, and, according to a more recent
story, a woman dreamed that she saw eleven doves on the cradle of her
infant daughter. One of them was dead and the mother handled it, but
she could not grasp the other ten. When the girl grew up she bore
eleven children, but her mother saw only the first of them, which was
stillborn.

As examples already quoted have shown, dreamers may be

brought into touch with inhabitants of other worlds, of whom few are
conscious while awake. Many have had dream-men and dreamwomen
(draummenn, draumkonur), and these are men and women who appear
regularly to dreamers and converse with them. I have already
mentioned the good and evil dream-women who used to appear to Gisli
Súrsson, and I have discussed these in another paper. It has been
said in later times that an easy way to obtain a dream-man or woman
is to ask one on the point of death to fulfil this function. After
death, the body of the dream-man rots like any other, but the eyes
remain uncorrupt and glitter as if he were alive. The dream-man or
woman often gives good advice, telling the dreamer where lost objects
are to be found, or where to look for straying sheep. In the end the
dream-man may begin to lie, and this is a sign that the dreamer's
days are numbered.

These last examples show that dreamers may be brought into

touch with the dead and with beings of the Other World.

Occasionally dead people, no doubt conceived as former

members of the same family, may be seen calling one to join them.
According to Víga-Glúms Saga (ch. 19), a woman fell into a
swoon as her husband left the house. When asked what she had seen,
she said that she had seen dead men going to meet her husband, and he
must be doomed. Sometimes, when a man dies, his attendant spirit may
be seen approaching another member of his family. When his
grandfather died in Norway, Víga-Glúmr dreamed in Iceland that
he saw an enormous woman, her shoulders brushing the mountains on
each side, walking to his home at Þverá (Víga-Glúms Saga,
ch. 9).

Sometimes attendant spirits and comparable beings who figure

in dreams are thought to be closely associated with pagan traditions,
and stories in which this is implied are especially prevalent in the
legendary and clerical literature of the middle ages. A pathetic
example is given in the Tale of Thorvald the Far-traveller, where the
first Christian mission to Iceland (c. 981) is described. When the
German bishop, Frederick, came to Giljá, in Vatnsdalr, the rich
farmer, Koðrán, was deeply impressed by his regalia, his
incense and candles. For many years Koðrán had put his trust
in a "prophet" (spámaðr), who lived in a rock. Koðrán
agreed that if the bishop could drive the "prophet" out of his rock,
he would adopt his religion. The bishop sprinkled Holy Water over
the rock and, on the next night, the "prophet" appeared to
Koðrán in a dream. He complained that boiling water had been poured
over his house; his children had been scalded and their screams were
hard to bear. The bishop continued his ministrations and
the "prophet" appeared to Koðrán a second night and a third until,
according to one version of the story, the rock split in two. Koðrán
was now convinced of the superiority of the bishop and of the
religion which he taught.

An even sadder tale is told of the troll, or cairn-dweller,

who appeared to Þorsteinn Ox-leg in a dream. He knew that
Þorsteinn would soon go abroad and would adopt the new religion.
He only regretted that he and his like could not do so themselves,
cairn-dwellers as they were. But if Þorsteinn should have a son,
he should call him by the cairn-dweller's name, Brynjarr. The name
would then enjoy the benefits of baptism, even though the cairn-
dweller were debarred from them.

At all ages stories have been recorded in which dreamers meet

and converse with creatures of the Other World. In later times the
elves (álfar) or hidden people (huldufólk) have appeared most
frequently. Conceptions of the hidden people vary, but many of them
differ little from the rest of us. They keep their sheep and cattle,
and have their clergymen and doctors, but few can see them except in
dreams. They may call on us for help, and we may give them milk and,
in our dreams, attend their women in childbirth. Sometimes, in their
turn, the hidden people and their doctors help us, and I remember
several stories about this from recent years.

I have mentioned many precognitive dreams, and some in which

dreamers are brought into touch with the dead and those of the Other
World. Many dreams have also been recorded, in all ages, in which
the dead or the other-world people bring the dreamer some gift.
Occasionally this is a material gift, but more often a spiritual one.

Bishop Jón Ögmundarson (died 1121) dreamed in Denmark that he

was in a cathedral church, where he saw and heard David playing the
harp. On the next day Jón called for a harp and played David's
melody before the king. Jón had never studied music before.

Music has played little part in the civilization of the

Icelanders, but no people have prized poetry more highly. Poetry is
the sacred mead and has mysterious origins. Óðinn had stolen it
from the giants, and the giants had seized it from the dwarfs, who
had brewed it from strange ingredients. It is not surprising that
poetry is the gift which the dead and those of the Other World most
often bestow on the dreamer. Numerous examples of this are recorded
in older as well as in later literature, but I shall mention few of
them. Those who have died. violently appear to their relatives and
describe their fate in verse. According to the Gunnlaugs Saga (ch.
13), Gunnlaugr and Hrafn appeared to their fathers after dying in
their duel in Norway. Both of them were covered in blood and told
how they died in verses, which their fathers remembered when they
woke up. Many stories closely resembling this one have been recorded
in the nineteenth and twentieth centuries. Sailors who have been
drowned, shepherds who have died of exposure, appear to their
intimates and describe in verses how they died or where their bodies
lie. The verses are remembered and they scan, although it is often
emphasized that neither the dreamer nor the dead man had any poetic
skill.

Sometimes, those who utter verses in a dream are not lately

dead, but they are heroes and heroines of a distant past. In the
year 1255, a girl dreamed that an enormous woman came to her mounted
on a grey. When asked where she came from, the stranger said that
she came from the world of the dead (násheimr) in the north. She
came a second night and a third and spoke in verses foretelling much
which came to pass. In the end she disclosed that she was
Guðrún Gjúkadóttir, heroine of the eddaic lays of the
Niflung cycle. On another occasion, about the year 1200, the poet
Egill Skalla-Grímsson (died c. 990) appeared in anger to a
dreamer,
uttering a verse.

The story of the astronomer, Stjörnu-Oddi (c. 1025-1150), is

stranger and more elaborate. Oddi had no poetic gifts, but he was a
wise man, and he never lied. He once had a dream in two parts, and
it consisted of a fantastic tale about kings and jarls in Sweden
(Gautland). Oddi himself took part in the adventures and he became
another person, the king's favourite poet. When he awoke, he
remembered some nineteen verses which he had made in honour of the
mythical king.

Dreams have been recorded, both in the middle ages and in

recent times, in which the gift of composing poetry is conferred by
the dead or the people of the Other World. The best known is that of
Hallbjörn hali. Hallbjörn was a shepherd, grazing his sheep
near the grave-mound of a great poet, Þorleifr jarlsskáld, who
had been killed by the magic of Hákon the Great (died 995). ' The
shepherd longed to make a poem in praise of the cairn-dweller but,
since he was not a gifted man, he could not even complete the first
line:

Here lies a poet (hér liggr skáld).

One night Hallbjörn fell asleep on the burial mound. He dreamed

that the mound opened and a large man came out of it. He pulled the
shepherd's tongue and himself completed the verse, telling
Hallbjörn that if he could remember it when he woke up he would
become a famous poet. He must pay especial attention to metrical
form, choice of words and kennings. Hallbjörn, it is said, lived
to be a famous poet, although none of his verses survive except the
one quoted, if we may count that as his. We cannot be sure when he
lived, for several men called Hallbjörn hali are remembered. This
was perhaps the one who made poetry for Knútr Eríksson, king of
Denmark (died 1195) and for King Sverrir of Norway (died 1202).

A story which closely resembles this one has been told in

recent times. The well-known poet Sigurður Breiðfjörð
(1798-1846) in his early years greatly admired the work of a
predecessor, Árni Bjöðvarsson (1713-76). Once, Sigurður was
visited in sleep by Árni, who spoke to him in a verse, telling him
that if he could remember the verse when he woke up he would be no
less a poet than himself. I quote the verse for its formal interest:

Herjans lærðu sálda sáld,

sáld það standi í skorðum,
svo þú verðir skálda skáld,
skáld sem ég var forðum.

It is sad to think how little the taste of Other World poets

has in common with our own. Their interest seems to be chiefly in
form and technical excellence.

An intellectual gift even more sophisticated than that of

composing poetry was once conferred on a dreamer. It was the gift of
textual criticism. Hermann Jónasson (1858-1923) was a learned
man, who had lifelong experience of dreams. He dreamed that one of
the heroes of Njáls Saga appeared to him and explained in closest
detail the compilation of this saga. It consisted originally of
three sagas clumsily put together. This conclusion accorded fairly
well with the learned doctrines of the time, but would find little
support today.

I have tried to give examples of most of the more interesting

kinds of dreams recorded in Iceland at all periods of its history.
Some of those last cited have much in common with the beliefs of
modern spiritualists, and this could be said of many others lately
recorded, which I shall pass by.

Readers might well ask how far the dreams recorded in Iceland
are historical, how far they represent native tradition, and how far
they have been introduced into sagas, stories and poems as literary
motives, based upon foreign models.

Considering the wealth and diversity of the material, no

general answers to these questions could be expected. The dreams
first cited in this paper, those of trees, which symbolized
descendants, have analogues in many foreign sources. Several are
recorded in early French literature, and the closest to the dream of
Ragnhildr is probably that related in the Roman de Rou (c. 1160), in
which the pregnant mother of William the Conqueror dreamed of a tree
growing from her body, which covered the whole of Normandy. A dream
recorded by Herodotus (I, 108) differs little. King Astyages dreamed
that he saw a vine growing from his daughter's body, and spreading
over the whole of Asia. Nabuchodonosor also dreamed of a tree, which
symbolized the fate of his kingdom (Daniel 4).