Tag Archives: Oracle

Norse Seiðr

Norse Seiðr Doll Project. Project and Photo by Scarlett Messenger
Norse Seiðr Doll Project. Project and Photo by Scarlett Messenger

NOTE: This journal entry was written as a companion piece to a presentation I gave in my Cross-Cultural Shamanism class. Since the subjects overlapped, I thought it would be an appropriate place to discuss at least one aspect of magick in Medieval Europe. This presentation also included a slide show and I created a doll with a costume based on the description of  Þórbjörgr Lítilvölva. The rather abrupt nature of the writing is due to it being designed as notes for an oral presentation.

Norse Seiðr

Seiðr (pronounced SAY-thur, or SAYTH) is the name for the system of oracle practiced by the Norse and Germanic tribes of Northern Europe from the Caspian Sea to North America in the Pre-Christian era. It was believed to be shamanic in nature. The practitioners of Seiðr were called Völva, and were almost exclusively female, as male participation in Seiðr was seen as taboo and “unmanly”. The position of the völva was held in high esteem by their communities, and they were compensated well for their services. They have historically been depicted as traveling oracles or soothsayers, which was one of the most critical services offered in Norse society. The Norse considered the nature of the world to be a woven tapestry, with each person representing a thread within the tapestry and each thread crossing and mingling with others to create the “big picture”. The importance of the völva in Norse society is illustrated by the fact that she carries a distaff, or Seiðstafr, as a symbol of her power and mastery over destiny. A distaff is normally used in the spinning of wool, and is associated with the Norse fates, or the Norns, who spin the the thread of one’s life.

Seiðr contains many of the shamanic traits we have discussed this quarter. The graves of völvas were found to contain henbane and cannabis seeds, which when burned could create altered states of consciousness (ASC). While the use of drums and bells is not explicitly spelled out in the historical record, there are allusions to their use, as well as some linguistic evidence to support this. The Norse were the original “appropriators”, and were known to borrow heavily from their neighbors the Celts and the Saami, both of whom did use bells and drums in their rituals. Yggdrasil, the world tree and the Axis Mundi of the Norse, is the location of the nine worlds. The name means “the Horse of Ygg (Odin)” and is kenning for the gallows, as it is also presumed to be the tree that Odin hung himself from in order to acquired the runes and the gift of oracle from the “other world”. He also sacrificed an eye to gain knowledge of the future and sees his own death in the jaws of the wold Fenrir. He is a man of great wisdom with the ability to speak to birds, and in fact gets his information about the world from 2 ravens that travel on his behalf. Odin is strongly tied to the practice of Seiðr in spite of its “unmanly” associations. He is the ultimate shamanic figure in Norse mythology.

I know that I hung on a windy tree
nine long nights,
wounded with a spear, dedicated to Odin,
myself to myself,
on that tree of which no man knows
from where its roots run.
No bread did they give me nor a drink from a horn,
downwards I peered;
I took up the runes, screaming I took them,
then I fell back from there.
-Hávamál

While the runes are used in the modern age for the purposes of oracle, the historical reality is that we don’t know for certain that they were the actual “lots” cast by the völva. However, between their frequent historical association with curses, hexes, charms, and spells, as well as their association with Odin’s ordeal on the tree, it seems likely that they are the symbols described by Tacitus and other historians. The various rune poems have told us what each symbol represented, and we can extrapolate how they may have been used, but the modern system of divination is not based in any real historical fact. We simply do not know if or how the runes were used for magickal purposes.

The account of Þórbjörgr Lítilvölva (“Thor’s salvation, little völva”), known as “The Seeress of Greenland” in Eiríks saga rauða (The Saga of Erik the Red) describes the arrival of a völva and discusses her costume in great detail.

“Now, when she came in the evening, accompanied by the man who had been sent to meet her, she was dressed in such wise that she had a blue mantle over her, with strings for the neck, and it was inlaid with gems quite down to the skirt. On her neck she had glass beads. On her head she had a black hood of lambskin, lined with ermine. A staff she had in her hand, with a knob thereon; it was ornamented with brass, and inlaid with gems round about the knob. Around her she wore a girdle of touch wood, and therein was a large skin-bag, in which she kept the talismans needful to her in her wisdom. She wore hairy calf-skin shoes on her feet, with long and strong-looking thongs to them, and great knobs of latten at the ends. On her hands she had gloves of ermine-skin, and they were white and hairy within.”
Eiríks saga rauða (The Saga of Erik the Red)

This description demonstrates the high status of the völva as well as the more practical elements that could facilitate the harsh realities of life in Norse society. She is described as wearing many beads, which were items of great value that Norse women collected and wore in what is now referred to as a “treasure necklace”. This was often used to fasten a cloak or overdress in place. These beads were also symbols of trade and travel, and beads from North Africa and Central Asia have been found in the graves of völva and high status women. Her fur lined gloves and hat would have provided a traveler with the warmth necessary to brave Greenland’s arctic climate. It also shows the transient nature of the völva. She is a traveler, a nomad, who goes where she is hired to go. This might also explain her belt, that is described as being made from “touchwood”. Touchwood is actually a material known also known as amadou. It is made from a type of inedible bracket fungus that is frequently used as tinder for fire starting. It has been proposed that wearing a long belt or sash of amadou would give the bearer a source of tinder in a rather barren landscape should the need arise. Ötzi the Copper Age natural mummy found in the Alps also carried items made from amadou, showing how far back use of this material goes. Amadou is a somewhat labor-intensive material to make, but could have been indicative of not only the status of the völva, but her itinerant nature.

Works Cited

Blain, Jenny. Nine Worlds of Seid-magic: Ecstasy and Neo-shamanism in Northern European Paganism. London: Routledge, 2002. Print.

Davidson, H. R. Ellis. The Lost Beliefs of Northern Europe. London: Routledge, 1993. Print.

Davidson, H. R. Ellis. Myths and Symbols in Pagan Europe: Early Scandinavian and Celtic Religions. Syracuse: Syracuse UP, 1988. Print.

Eliade, Mircea. Shamanism: Archaic Techniques of Ecstacy. Princeton, N. J.: Princeton U, 1964. Print.

Grammaticus, Saxo. “Gesta Danorum: Book Seven.” Online Medieval and Classical Library. Online Medieval and Classical Library, n.d. Web. 27 Nov. 2013.

Larrington, Carolyne. The Poetic Edda. Oxford: Oxford UP, 1996. Print.

Lindow, John. Norse Mythology: A Guide to the Gods, Heroes, Rituals, and Beliefs. Oxford: Oxford UP, 2002. Print.

Paxton, Diana L. “High Seat Seið and the Core Oracular Method.” Seeing for the People. N.p., n.d. Web. 13 Feb. 2016.

Price, Neil S. The Archaeology of Shamanism. London: Routledge, 2001. Print.

Schnurbein, Stefanie V. “Shamanism in the Old Norse Tradition: A Theory between Ideological Camps.” History of Religions 43.2 (2003): 116-38. Web.

Sturluson, Snorri, and Arthur Gilchrist Brodeur. The Prose Edda. New York: American-Scandinavian Foundation, 1916. Print.

Viðar, Hreinsson. The Complete Sagas of Icelanders. Reykjavik: Leifur Eiríksson, 1997. Print.

 

Magickal Pursuits in the Ancient World

 

Chateau, Aragon, France. Photo by Scarlett Messenger
Chateau, Aragon, France. Photo by Scarlett Messenger

Magickal Pursuits in the Ancient World

The age of Classical Antiquity is where the history of Western culture is first inscribed with the permanence of writing. The discovery of the 2,000 year old Magical Papyri in the late 18th through early 19th centuries revealed records of the spells, potions, and practices used by the Greco-Roman sorcerers of Egypt to confront the challenges of daily life at the dawn of Western civilization. Spells of protection, divination, healing, and prayers for self-improvement are all described as they were practiced by people who lived before Christianity was born. Even before that, the Classical and Hellenistic Greeks mused over the spark of modern high magick and occult practices with the art of “theourgia”, or “theurgy” (Russell 29). This is a highly ritualistic effort to unite with a god and achieve spiritual perfection or received knowledge, and will be a topic that we discuss more in depth as we approach the 19th and 20th century occult movement. Although this technique of magickal congress with god was eyed with some suspicion in Greek society, it was nonetheless utilized by some forms of organized religion in specific, controlled situations. At the Oracle of Delphi the priestess, or Pythia, would become possessed by Apollo, and her ecstatic prophecies were delivered in the first-person as if from the lips of the god himself (Cavendish 2823). This invocation of the god constitutes a theurgic magickal variant of divination. Allowing the mind of the god to enter your mind reveals knowledge and foresight. The Oracle was used by heads of state and great thinkers alike. The Pythia was feared and respected, unlike many of her later descendants who practiced such rites.

The Dionysian Maenads were feared for other reasons, but garnered less respect. Their frenzied rites included intoxication, manic dancing, and the bare-handed slaughter of sacrificial animals. They served to bind the revelers to the god in an intimate and euphoric experience for its own sake rather than for the purposes of oracle or healing. The Maenad’s reputation of nocturnal gatherings for moonlit blood rites and sexualized adoration of a phallic fertility god would become the core template for many of the wild tales of witch cults and covens of later centuries. These kinds of rites were not new to humanity; voluntary possession and direct ecstatic communion with the divine are seen around the world in shamanistic and spiritual traditions. However, the techniques the Greeks documented and the Romans later elaborated on would eventually become the core for many modern Western occult and esoteric movements, as well as having an influence on how future Western cultures perceived and treated the archetype of the sorcerer and the witch. The overlay of local cultures would give each region its own flavor of witchcraft, but much society’s reaction from the Middle Ages on could be found in the Roman influenced Catholic church.

Participation in public ritual was a lynchpin in the social indoctrination of Roman society, and sorcerers divided that loyalty. If prayer and sacrifice to the established Roman deities couldn’t get you what you wanted, taking your business elsewhere might. Controlling the participation of the citizenry in theurgical and magical rites became crucial to the survival of the status quo. In 186 BCE, the Roman senate strove to ban private participation in the rites of Bacchus, the Roman variant of Dionysus (Evans 112). Predominately the domain of women and what was viewed as the “feminized” man, the cult of Dionysus was comprised of the more marginalized members of Roman society who worshiped a mad, eroticized god imported from another land (most likely Etruscan). This “outsider” reputation made them a prime target for a witch hunt, as witnesses could be bribed into placing political opponents at the scene of blood-soaked orgies and human sacrifice. Adherents were frequently put to death or imprisoned with little to no evidence as to their involvement in what were usually manufactured crimes. This is one of the first recorded instances of a good old-fashioned witch hunt on the European continent, and as Christianity gained a foothold in the Roman Empire, the distrust of those who practiced magick only increased.

In a society as prone to patriarchal authoritarianism and paranoia as Roman society was, non-sanctioned practitioners of magick were viewed as wild cards. Their preternatural rites stood as a threat to the establishment, as attacks or assassinations by magick would be impossible to trace and could be used to seize power from those who opposed you. These practices grew to be mistrusted and eyed with suspicion, even when used for ostensibly benevolent purposes. Magickal actions have consequences, and if the practitioner was not adept or misjudged their target, the result could be dire. It has even been reported that the poet Lucretius allegedly hung himself in lustful agony after a love potion went horribly awry (Jerome). Because the potential of being held accountable for the occasional poisonous potion or spell that backfired, the people who concocted such things typically practiced in private. Daily life in Rome was incredibly public, to what we would consider an intrusive degree in our modern culture. Privacy was not to be sought nor trusted. If you had to do it in private, you probably shouldn’t be doing it. There are a reasons they call these “occult” practices. Not only do they rely on the revelation of hidden knowledge, the discipline itself is veiled from the sight of the uninitiated and unsympathetic. It was safer that way.

In the ancient world, we see the seeds of magick’s future on the European continent. From the maturation of theurgy and birth of the formal witch hunt to the prototype for the debauched nocturnal sabbat alleged to be practiced by the witches of early modern Europe, magick was changing with the increasing urbanization of Western civilization. And sadly for those involved with magick, these changes were not always for the better, as Christianity took hold of the continent and condemned those who claimed to have powers ascribed only to the Christian God.

References

Jordan, D. (2000). Ephesia Grammata at Himera. Zeitschrift Für Papyrologie Und Epigraphik, 130, 104-107.

Merrifield, R. (1988). The archaeology of ritual and magic. New York: New Amsterdam.

Oldridge, D. (2002). The witchcraft reader. London: Routledge.

Russell, J. B. (1980). A history of witchcraft, sorcerers, heretics, and pagans. London: Thames and Hudson.

Cavendish, R., Burland, C. A., Innes, B., & Eliade, M. (1995). Man, myth & magic: The illustrated encyclopedia of mythology, religion, and the unknown. New York: M. Cavendish.

Ogden, D. (2002). Magic, witchcraft, and ghosts in the Greek and Roman worlds: A sourcebook. Oxford: Oxford University Press.

Evans, A., & E. (1988). The God of ecstasy: Sex-roles and the madness of Dionysos. New York: St. Martin’s Press.

Betz, H. D. (1996). The Greek magical papyri in translation: Including the Demotic spells. Chicago: Univ. of Chicago Press.

Jerome, St. “St. Jerome ( Hieronymus ): Chronological Tables.” St. Jerome: Chronological Tables (2). Attalus, 25 Feb. 2014. Web. 01 Feb. 2016.