Njal's Saga (Penguin Classics)

"Njal's Saga," otherwise known as "Brennu-Njals saga," the story of Njal who was burned, and "Njala," is the longest and most highly esteemed of the stories (sagas) that later medieval (13th-14th century) Icelanders wrote about their island nation's past, from the settlement, c.870, to the early eleventh century. These are the "Sagas of the Icelanders," commonly so distinguished from the rest of the surprisingly large Icelandic (and Norwegian) literary production of the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries. This included original and translated accounts of the lives of kings, saints, bishops, and other notables, classical histories and medieval pseudo-histories, knightly romances, retellings of common Germanic and specifically Scandinavian heroic legends, and miscellaneous other topics. Unlike the bulk of other medieval European literatures, the Sagas of the Icelanders are largely concerned with daily life in a very traditional society, limited by a subsistence economy, and unique in its political arrangements. The substance of many of the sagas are things like betrothals, weddings, divorces, and local rivalries, with ensuing lawsuits and arbitrations -- the latter of enormous importance, because during the "Saga Age" Iceland had courts and a legislature, but no executive authority to enforce decisions. Finding an endurable compromise was often the only alternative to lethal feuding (in which only the dead get relief -- and not always them, in some sagas) over unsettled issues. In this particular saga, the chains of blood feuds eventually drag down its title hero, despite his position as an expert on the law, and his frequent role as conciliator. This starts its own chain of vengeance, which fills a substantial part of the text (chapters 131-159). "Njala" has been translated into English four times, beginning with George W. Dasent's "Story of Burnt Njal" in 1861, and including a very popular translation by Magnus Magnusson and Herman Palsson, "Njal's Saga," published 1960. I have reviewed both of these; the former in a Kindle edition, the latter in its now out-of-print Penguin Classics edition. (The full two-volume first edition of Dasent, with an account of medieval Iceland, and a very full and elaborate index of characters, is available as a pdf from a Library of Congress hosted website, archive.org. There is also a one-volume abridged edition --with complete saga text, however. The Everyman's Library one-volume edition, in which the editorial apparatus is even more severely cut, is sometimes available used.) Here I intend (Amazon page placement cooperating, of course!) to review the most recent translation, by Robert Cook, which has replaced Magnusson and Palsson's version in the Penguin list, and is also available in Kindle format (at the time of writing, at a very attractive price). (Time, and Amazon, allowing, I also plan to review the 1955 translation by Carl F. Bayerschmidt and Lee M. Hollander, reprinted, with a new introduction, in the Wordsworth Classics of World Literature series in 1998.) Cook's translation was originally published in the third volume of a five-volume collection of translations, "The Complete Sagas of Icelanders (Including 49 Tales)" in 1997, and was apparently revised somewhat for the separate Penguin edition of the translation, in 2001, in addition to getting its own introduction, annotations, glossary, and character index. Cook's translation has frequently been criticized by those for whom Magnusson and Palsson's version had, for forty years, been THE English version of the saga. I agree that their rendering reads more like a novel, with the full resources of modern English grammar deployed, and the often (for moderns, at least non-Icelanders) tedious genealogies attached to most new characters relegated to footnotes (actual footnotes, at the bottom of the page, so that the curious could readily consult them). It remains, in my opinion, a splendid introduction to the saga literature, and I am somewhat dismayed that it is out of print. However, I was also familiar with Dasent's much more literal (except for some Victorian prudishness) version, and its occasional (and inconsistent) archaisms, so I am not in quite the same position as many of Cook's critics, who seem to feel that he has violated their sense of what a good translation of the saga should sound like. Unlike some translators of various sagas -- most notably William Morris and E.R. Eddison -- Cook does not go so far as to try to reproduce distinctly Icelandic phrasing in English. However, he does (by his own account), intentionally avoid distinctively modern English phrasing, for example, dependent clauses, using the text's simple conjunctions instead, and eschewing the present participle (see his "Note on the Translation"). As a result, his prose may come across as a bit stodgy; but one can quickly get used to the difference. I might have wished he had followed the existing Penguin precedent in relegating parts of the long genealogies to footnotes: but in the event that would have made the Kindle version rather clumsy to work with, as they would probably have been hyperlinked to the (figurative) "back of the book." (And, for those who go on to read other sagas, some the information in the genealogies will be quite useful.) As it is, the Kindle edition does have some problems. As in a great many sagas, verses attributed to, or supposed to be about, various of the characters appear scattered throughout the text. In Cook's translations of them, such passages in verse often have marginal annotations, which on the Kindle (or at least the Kindle app I'm using) have been run into the text on a number of occasions. This is particularly disturbing in the one long poem included, a rather gruesome visionary account of some Valkyries. Those with an appetite for more information about medieval Iceland and its literary self-portrait have a variety of historical and critical works to choose from. From the nineteenth-century, one can mention Dasent's still-impressive, but very dated, 1861 introduction and appendices, including maps and reconstruction of medieval buildings (see the pdf mentioned earlier). There is a chapter on Dasent and his translation of "Njala" in Andrew Wawn's 2002 "The Vikings and the Victorians: Inventing the Old North in 19th-century Britain." There is a strikingly modern discussion of "Njal's Saga" by W.P. Ker in "Epic and Romance: Essays on Medieval Literature" (1896), which is available in a free Kindle edition (also from Project Gutenberg), and also in a pdf from archive.org and Google. As modern replacements I would suggest (among other possibilities) Jesse Byock's "Viking Age Iceland" (2001), which covers the subject with Dasent-like thoroughness, modern archeological and other information, and an engaging style. It mainly discusses other sagas, so there are few "spoilers" to worry about if you decide to read it first. On the other hand, Byock's earlier (1982) "Feud in the Icelandic Saga" has a very good chapter on "Njala," which is perhaps best read as an "introduction to a second reading," so as not to spoil the story. (This will also make his discussion easier to follow.) The Publications page of The Viking Society (a UK organization formerly known as the Viking Club) website offers a free download of Hines and Slay, ed., "Introductory Essays on Egils Saga and Njals Saga" (1992), made up of lectures directed at a university-level students. It includes a section of bibliography. Also available free are several illuminating discussions of Njala (and other sagas) in the Society journal "Saga-Book," and the "Proceedings" of The First International Saga Conference (1971, published 1973) has an interesting paper on Njal, and some illuminating comments in other contributions.

Njal's Saga is perhaps the single most important and best-known of the entire body of Icelandic saga literature. By turns a legal thriller, domestic drama, and violent revenge tragedy, Njal's Saga is far more complex and entertaining than most of the modern fiction that I've ever read. Njal's Saga covers one of the most violent and tumultuous periods in European history in general and Norse history in particular. During Njal's long life the first Christian missionaries came to the island and, in 1000, the island voted to convert. Such a brief summation does no justice to the intense machinations involved and the often violent reactions of Icelanders and Christians alike. But of even greater importance to Njal's story are the many feuds in which he became embroiled and which finally claimed his life. The overall arc of the stories is far too complex to be related here, but every victory that Njal achieves comes at a heavy cost of both money and blood. Throughout, the feuding, fighting, and legal episodes at the Althing are carefully recorded and uniformly exciting. A word on the translation: Cook's translation of the saga has drawn a considerable amount of flak from fans of the more "contemporary" Magnusson translation, but such attacks are largely unfounded. Cook's aim in translating the saga was to accurately recreate the original Icelandic's terse, forthright, and completely unembellished style. Having read a number of other saga translations, I'd say this is a noble and, in this case, successful aim. This translation is exciting without catering to modern convention, something that speaks well for the power of the story regardless of translator. My only word of warning about this book: don't put it down. If you're like me, you won't have a problem with this, but for casual readers the details of plot and the many, many characters will probably slip away should one take a casual approach to the Saga. That said, this book should draw you in and never once let go once you've begun. Highly recommended.

So this is a review of the saga itself and not of the translation (which I hope is faithful). The narrative is as chaotic and hard to follow as possible. There are new character popping up again and again, they share same names as old characters, which makes it notoriously confusing. Many points of narration are completely obsolete and don't add up to the story. If I'm to judge this work in comparison to it's other contemporary epic than I'd say it's readable, but not the best. If you're looking for a great Viking saga and a good read at the same time check out Egil's saga, written much more adequately. The good thing I found in Njals saga is it's uniquely exciting juridical process. Murder, revenge and dragging each other around the courtrooms was a big thing apparently back in the days, so when nation's most prominent lawyers get a go at it, the saga actually turns to be very engaging, reminding me somewhat of the recent Netflix show about oj's case. I apologise if you got misled by the headline of my review - there are no racial tensions depicted in the saga, it's characters do find plenty other reasons to exact violence.

Last year I read the Penguin Classics edition of The Orkneya Saga and this year I’m back for more. Njal’s saga is said to be the best of a large body of Icelandic sagas. The very helpful introduction and notes place it in Iceland in about 1000CE. We are told that some of it is historic, in that there are references to historic events, such as the Battle of Clontarf between the Irish and Vikings in 1014. It is also historic in that the culture and events generally reflect what is known of Icelandic culture and society at the time. Thus, although some characters seem to have a mild version of a gift of prophecy, there are no superheroes or mythical creatures or miraculous events. Even that gift of prophecy seems more like an ability to predict a future event based on past behaviour and other rational criteria. Njal is a farmer, a good man who gives good advice and is held in high esteem in his community. However, he finds himself mixed up in a feud that lasts for several decades. It’s no plot spoiler to say that his death by burning in his own farmhouse is shocking and avoidable. Njal is a product of a society in a state of profound transition – from pagan to Christian, from nomadic to settled, from marauding warriors hungry for plunder to farmers counting their sheep. There is a lot of violence, mainly due to the feud involving Njal’s family that lasts for years and involves an ever-widening network of blood relatives, in-laws and foster-children. The descriptions of fights are often shocking and very different from the kind of Viking battles you see on the streaming channels. Armed encounters are short and vicious and often result in a lopped off limb or head. One feature that surprises, though, is the sense of an evolving legalistic culture where clever words and a knowledge of legal precedents and statutes are at least as valuable as skills with sword and spear. For example, A can murder B but, given that murder is not automatically a capital offence, A can go to court and offer compensation to B’s family in the form of farm animals or bolts of cloth. Even better, if A finds the right clever clogs, he can get the latter to argue that the court hearing the case has no jurisdiction because it has the wrong number of jurors. Case closed. On that point, a big event in the saga, amidst the catalogue of slayings and burnings, is the founding of some kind of national court of appeal in Iceland in the early 11th century. I’ve watched several dramas set in this era in recent years (Vikings, Saxons, etc.). They generally give women a range of roles from servants and concubines to warriors and leaders. There are no female warriors or leaders in this saga. Here women can be influential in the domestic sphere, and indeed the feud in this saga is largely stoked by a malevolent woman, but they take no part in the battles, the law courts or the annual assemblies. That is all men’s work. The translation in this edition dates from 1997 and is a compulsive read. As with most Penguin Classics editions, there is a very useful introduction and notes, some maps and family tress and a glossary. I would recommend it to anyone interested in medieval history who wants to know what the Vikings were really like.

À l’époque des sagas islandaises, il y avait un triangle de relations entre la Norvège, l’Angleterre et l’Islande elle-même. On faisait du commerce, on se battait les uns contre les autres et l’on partait en expéditions de razzias… où l’on devenait alors des Vikings. Ces guerriers revenaient chez eux et se remettaient gentiment à la pratique de l’agriculture et du commerce. Les Islandais s’étaient très tôt convertis au christianisme…dans l’espoir d’adoucir leurs mœurs!

Wer Island liebt, sollte auf jeden Fall auch mal einen Blick in die isländischen Sagen hineinwerfen. Diese Ausgabe ist sehr ausführlich. Mit vielen zusätzlichen Kommentaren und Anmerkungen.

A masterpiece of Medieval literature. If you are into anticuarian writing, this book certainly is for you. The Pinguin Classic edition is also quite good. The end notes are very helpful because they provide historical and anthopological information to complete the story's social picture. To make the long story short, what starts as a simple and apparently frivolous dispute among neighbors' wives, grows small step by small step into a full scale civil war. Great characters, subtle details, tragic conflict, Njal's Saga is one of the best things I've ever read in my life.

I first read the Pengun Classic's Njal's Saga when I was 15 years old. That's over 50 years ago. I still love it. The version I read was that by Magnus Magusson (sp?), and maybe naturally enough it's the one I prefer; but the Leifur Ericksson version of Snorri Sturrlesson's (sp?) masterpiece is a worthy enough follower. I hate it when people write simply that it's a "good tale", and leave it at that - although it IS a great tale. It's just that it's so much more than that. Njal's saga covers a turbulent time in Icelandic history, and its scope extends way beyond that - to my own native Ireland, and the Battle of Clontarf, where some of the Burners fetched up (and one of whom subsequently prayed for deliverance for the river, was granted it, and walked to Rome as a penance and received forgiveness there). Though the first part of the story covers Iceland's greatest warrior hero, Gunnar of Hliderend, and the means of his death (he was sentenced to exile, but a chance broken girth on Gunnar's pony as he rides to the boat causes him to look up and see the beauty of the land, the fields, and declare that he will return home and never leave) , that sub-story is actually an essential part of the greater one: the events leading to the climax which sees Njal (the prescient, wise, Law Speaker of his time) and Njal's family, burnt to death in their home by a consortium of vengeance seekers led by Flosi. That climax is a result of a whole series of killings: early on, there's the death of Hjort, Gunnar's younger brother. Then there's Gunnar himself. And others, including that of Hoskuld, Gunnar's kin fostered as his own by Njal, and killed by Njal's own sons led by that other great warrior Skarp Hedin ("Sharp Blade"). Njal, being wise, can foresee all of this, of course; and the story tells of his efforts to prevent it - to break a sequence of bad events and killings. He even manipulates the politics of Iceland in an effort to do so. When, at the Allthing, Skarp Hedin and his brothers are brought to account for the killing of Hoskuld, they're required to pay over to Flosi the largest amount of compensation ever known in Iceland. As an intended act of reconciliation, even though the full amount of compensation has been gathered together, Njla steps forward with an additional peace offering: a gorgeously ornamented and valuable pair of breeches, and adds it to the pile. Flosi takes this as an insult, refuses the compensation, and vows vengeance. Then Njal knows finally that there's nothing more that he can do to avert disaster. Only his other foster son, Kari, escapes the burning, and he goes on to take a terrible revenge in which there's nowhere that's safe for the conspirators. So this is a story whose central idea is that even the wisest of men can't escape what the Fates have woven. It's a story of how the smallest acts can snowball into much greater evil (an assassination in Sarajevo?): Gunnar dies because his wife recalls a slap he gave to her some time ago, and refuses him a strand of her hair to repair his broken bow-string, for example. Intriguingly, one of the footnotes in the earlier version tells of how archaeologists in the 20th century, excavating a sand spit on the Rand River (where Gunnar and his brother fought a large group of men, and Hjort died), came upon a lot of human bones showing signs of injury. One young skeleton still had a locket around his neck: a stone carved with the image of a young deer: a hart (="Hjort"). Coincidence maybe. Or maybe evidence that even a long narrative like Njal's Saga, passed down by word of mouth for centuries before being set down in ink, may indeed be about real events. And also discovered were the ruins of a burnt-out farmhouse where Njal would have lived; and beside it a small chapel - Njal's wife Bergthora was one of the first converts to Christianity on Iceland. Njal's Saga remains my favourite book ever. I would like to be buried one day with my copy of it beside me, dog-eared and coverless as it is now. I can't recommend this book highly enough. Do read it and enjoy it.