non-historical) events and
persons, combined with a strong consciousness of his countryâs history and
social institutions. He apparently also worked with written sources, including
genealogies, a book of laws, accounts of the Conversion (Chs. 100â105) and of
the battle of Clontarf (Chs. 153â7) and works in Icelandic based on foreign
sources such as the
Dialogues of
Gregory the Great
(see the note to Flosiâs dream in Ch. 133). It is impossible to disentangle
the four components in the saga â authentic history, the inventions of oral
tradition, written sources and the contribution of the thirteenth-century author
â but the saga shows so many signs of careful artistry that one is inclined to
believe in a master craftsman at the final stage, perhaps even a writer who, as the
Swedish poet and critic A. U. Bååth put it long ago, had the last line
of his saga in mind when he wrote the first.
The last sentence of the saga in most manuscripts refers to it as
Brennu-Njáls saga
, which can be translated either âthe
saga of the burning of Njalâ (with an emphasis on the act of burning) or
âthe saga of Njal of the burningâ (i.e. of Njal who endured the
burning). In either case this term (used as the title in most modern editions) points to
the two things which are central, a man and a burning. The laws make it clear that
burning a manâs house was a heinous crime, punishable by full outlawry even if
no persons were burned (
Laws of Early Iceland
, p. 169). The saga itself shows
burning to be shameful as well as heinous. In the attack on Gunnar in Ch. 77, the option
of burning was proposed by the malicious Mord Valgardsson, but firmly rejected. In the
attack on Bergthorshvol, Flosiâs own words before starting the blaze reveal
his awareness of the shame attendant on such a deed (Ch. 128). The saga, like the
tradition behind it, was fascinated by this horror. In one way or another all the events
in the first part of the saga lead to the non-incendiary killing of Gunnar; all of the
subsequent events, as well as many of the earlier events, lead to Njalâs death
by burning. After this climax there are still twenty-nine chapters in the saga
(131â59); these are more than a coda, they are a necessary settling of scores
and a hard-won return to equilibrium.
The man Njal is not the hero one expects from a work called
âsagaâ. His introductory description (Ch. 20) shows him to be an
older man (or at least a man with grown children, as becomes clear in Ch. 25), known for
his wisdom, his gift of prophecy, his skill at law, and â a surprising
physical detail â his inability to grow a beard. Further, the beardless
titular hero of this saga never kills, never fights, and is only once shown to carry a
weapon, a rather useless short axe (Ch. 118). His neighbour and good friend Gunnar, on
the other hand, is thevery model of the blond, blue-eyed Viking,
described chiefly in terms of his unmatched physical skills (Ch. 19). His two battles
against Viking raiders abroad (Ch. 30) prove him to be the greatest of Icelandic
fighters. His tragedy is that back in Iceland he is dragged into quarrels with men of
inferior worth who envy his greatness and eventually bring him down. Njal and Gunnar
form an ideal complementary pair, wisdom and strength, and Gunnar profits from
Njalâs advice and legal skills as long as he can â and then, in
effect, gives up.
The presence of Njal at the centre of the saga is a sign that the emphasis
is not on overt displays of masculine prowess, though of course there are a generous
number of personal combats, carefully described with a connoisseurâs eye to
every movement, every swing of the sword and thrust of the spear, every gaping or
severing wound. Many of these encounters, however, are not altogether heroic. Gunnar is
on his own when he