Author: Gretchen Brown

Berserkers — Men or Myth? Part One

“There was a man named Ulf, son of Bjalf… Ulf was a man so tall and strong that none could match him and in his youth he roved the seas as a freebooter….he was a berserker.”    Egil’s Saga.

In The Serpentine Key, and the two books following, the Norse mercenary, Sven Thorvaldson and his son struggle with being ulfhednar, wolf berserkers, something they were born to and that have shaped who they are.

Most people have at one point in their lives used the word berserk. But what does it mean? In our culture it is someone who flies off the handle, becomes irrationally angry. The berserk shows up in the role playing game Dungeons and Dragons as a playable class alongside Runemasters and Skalds. They have magic abilities and special roles. In European legends, the werewolf has much in common with the ulfhedinn, the berserk who identifies with the wolf, including his tremendous strength. In Russia, colonized in the ninth century by the Norse, the werewolf is called the oberot or bodark which translates into “one transformed”.

Nor are such accounts isolated to Norse society. The Celtic Cuchulain’s Riastradh of Irish myth shared many of the same characteristics as berserkers. Both berserkers and members of the Riastradh were known to go into a battle frenzy seemingly unaffected by injury and take sometimes days to come down from it, during which time they would be weak and defenseless. Perhaps this was even what was described for the Irish warriors of Ulster who are cursed by the goddess Macha when they refused to help her as she went into labor. She cursed them to be as weak as a woman upon whom labor pains have come when they would be in their greatest hour of need. Those who fought Norse berserkers regularly knew about this “Kryptonite” of theirs and knew to engage the berserkers just long enough until the gangr would wear off and then they would be weak, diminished and unable to fight. For this reason, their use was as shock troops, often to break through shield walls. A berserker was reputed to be the one who, single-handed, held off a portion of the Saxon army at Stanford Bridge in 1066 until reinforcements could arrive.

From Egil’s Saga: “So it is said of those men who were shape-strong or on any of them on whom was the berserk-gang that for so long as they held, they were so strong there was no holding against the, but forthwith when that was passed over, then they were unmighter than of wont. And so it was with Kveldulf that as soon as the berserk rage was gone from him, then he knew he his weariness of those onslaughts he had made and he was altogether without might, so that he laid down in his bed.”

Romans spoke of crazed Celtic warriors who went into battle naked, unafraid of death. They called them Furor Celticus. The triple goddess Morrigan was said the be the one who inspired this battle frenzy, possibly brought about by deep mediation. She had much in common with Freyja, both being deities of death and transformation as well as the battle frenzy. There are also stories of the Maylasian warriors who “ran amok” and the African “leopard men” with similar proclivities.

The etymology of the word berserker differs depending on who you talk to. Some say it means “bare of shirt” for the practice of these men fighting without the protection of either leather armor of ring-mail shirts. Others insist that it referred to to the “bear nature” of some berserkers or perhaps wearing the skin of the bear. Those who embraced the spirit of the wolf in the almost shamanic practice of their warrior tradition were known as ulfhednar. In The Serpentine Key, Sven Thorvaldson is ulfhedninn, as is his son. For him, it is a curse as much as it is a gift of Odin. Like many modern day sufferers of IED, he has a tendency to alcoholism. Suicidal tendencies also seem to be a mark of a man afflicted this way. Egil Skallgrimson tended to deep depressions. Prone to volatile emotions, he keeps himself so tightly restrained as to appear withdrawn and devoid of emotion. Years have training have taught Sven to school and control the gangr. With training, the berserk can deliberately induce the state, as well as hold it off when necessary. Most weren’t so disciplined. In the sagas, it was said to be brought on at unexpected times, including even by hard labor. Yet the berserker state cannot be chalked up to only an explosion of rage, or even excess of adrenalin, though the latter two do seem to factor in the wiring and neural impulses of these men. The berserker was and is perhaps the man who takes the IED to another level due to the spiritual mechanics of meditation and shamanic trance. He becomes one with Odin or perhaps with the wolf or bear with which he identifies himself. The greater strength with which the berserker seems to be granted, is only one side affect. Perhaps it is the unitary state into which he enters that also grants him an almost sixth sense. In The Serpentine Key, Sven is able to sense an enemy’s next move before he makes it. His movements are sure and coordinated, hardly the result of a man drunk on alcohol or slowed by hallucinogens.

Next time we will examine a medical angle on the berserks. If so, do they still exist today? Share your thoughts below.

Sources:

Germanic Warriors: Warrior Styles from Trajan’s Column to Icelandic Sagas by Michael P. Speidel

Egil’s Saga

Ynglinga Saga

Byzantine Cuisine –And Now Dessert

Dessert is an apt conclusion to the series on food. Desserts, including sweetmeats and honey cakes were eaten by the higher classes, including koptoplakous, the ancestor to baklava still eaten in Greece today. It would have certainly been on Theophana’s table:

Theophana smiled indulgently at her. She seemed to be in an especially good humor. “Since Constantine will not be returning, I think it best that we look elsewhere to marry you. There are so many good matches to be had for a young woman of your position in the world and I hardly think any suitor will find your looks displeasing or wanting. Now,” She picked up a two-tined fork and prodded a dish in which lay koptoplakous in golden, honeyed splendor. “Won’t you try this, Davit? It is very good.” She smiled at him. Normally the koptoplakous, filled with nuts and honey, soaked with bay leaves and resting between layers of pastry would have made Sophia’s mouth water. She watched as a servant prepared to cut and serve the sweetmeat. Theophana’s eyes were bright with anticipation, but Sophia did not think it was the koptoplakous that inspired her.

Speaking of forks, to the imperial family the fork would have been a recognizable implement, yet still hundreds of years away from regular use in Western Europe. The wife of the Holy Roman Emperor in the West, Otto II was a Byzantine princess. (Her name was Theophano Sclerina and she was a member of the Scleros family. Not to be confused with my fictional Theophana nor to the historical Theophano who was mother to the emperors Basil II and Constantine VIII). She used a fork as a matter of course at a banquet in 972 in Germany and caused no little astonishment (and perhaps scorn) to her Western in-laws.

If women were present at banquets, they were most often served at a separate table. Then as now, social rules might often be disregarded however. Women’s social standing in the Byzantine Empire presents an interesting subject for another article outside the scope of this one. They were certainly excused from post dinner festivities which were often the venue for riotous drinking and dancing girls.

A whole book could be written regarding the gastronomic and culinary delights of the middle Byzantine empire and suffice to say there is not room in a blog. Food says much about a culture. What could food say about the Byzantines? That they enjoyed fine food in an age when much of the world dined on simpler fare, perhaps? Or does it say something about the abundance of the empire during the reigns of Basil II and his brother Constantine? Basil II was known to give special preference in taxation to the common farmers versus the large plantation farms of the nobility. He recognized that agriculture was the foundation of his empire. Truly the Byzantines have bequeathed to us a legacy not least of which was their food. Perhaps except for the garum.

I highly recommend reading from these resources:

Daily Life in the Byzantine Empire by Marcus Rautman

The Book of the Eparch

Geoponika (translated by Thomas Owen)

Let me know your thoughts below.

 

Byzantine Cuisine – Drink and Tavernas

An example of a Roman thermopolium

The poor of the cities were often discouraged from cooking in their own homes, often shabby flats, for fear of fire. For this purpose, Roman fast food joints known as thermopolia, sprang up. Here common people could obtain a hot meal for a cheap price. The tavernas also catered to the common people. Here you could buy alcohol as well as a hot meal. For a bronze follis or two you could obtain salted fish, beans and coarse black bread, washed down with cheap acidic wine. If you had a few extra folles you might also be able to obtain the attentions of the dancing girls, as prostitution was often one of the services offered by the tavernas, in spite of the supposed prudery of the times. An effort was made to limit the time tavernas could be open to prevent mischief especially on Sundays and during Lent. Even so, tavernas continued to offer diversions such as dice, singing, cock fights and of course sexual entertainment.

If you had enough coin, you could afford a specialty drink such as phouska. Those who catered to foreign tastes, might offer the drinks of their choice. The Norse Varangians from Russia and Scandinavia as well as Anglo Saxons, disenfranchised after the Norman Conquest in England, favored the strong fermented honey drink, mead and so as men from the northern lands flooded Constantinople in search of a position in the famed Varangian Guard, honey mead came to be a popular offering in the tavernas. A Varangian might have lingered for a while in such a taverna, as Sven does here:

Sven found himself again in a taverna as the late afternoon light lengthened the shadows. He hurt all over. He turned again to wine for solace, as well as a favorite past time of his: listening to the conversations of others. The taverna keeper lit the oil lamps swaying from the rafters on their chains. Sven basked in the glow they cast over the well-worn wooden tables and benches. He liked tavernas. They stank of wine and reeked of the odor of unwashed humanity. But they were pleasant places overall for people watching. Two infantrymen played at dice in a corner for bronze coins. Men creaked over the wooden floor boards, rattling the tables and making the wine slosh in his cup. Behind him, three men sat down at a bench opposite the door. Without looking at them, he could tell they were better educated and better paid than most of the men within the confines of the establishment. He could tell that one man was quite a bit younger than the others, but higher in status. They all spoke a higher dialect of Greek, not the peasant variety spoken by most others there. They ordered better wine than he himself drank. It was phouska, a drink flavored with cumin, anise, fennel and thyme. It had never been to his taste. He closed his eyes and sipped his own harsh wine. 

The ambassador, Liutprand of Cremona mentioned in a previous post who objected to garum,  also did not care for Byzantine wine which he described as “mixed with pitch, resin, and plaster was to us undrinkable”.  Perhaps the ambassador was merely difficult to please.   He must have been alone in his assessment, as Byzantine wines were much favored by Western Europeans.  He may have been referring to Retsina, a type of wine that got its unique flavor from sealing the wine jars with pine resin.

Next we will look at dessert, everyone’s favorite! Let me know your thoughts below.

Sources:

The Complete Works of Liudprand of Cremona (Medieval Texts in Translation) Liudprand (Bishop of Cremona)

Tastes of Byzantium : The Cuisine of a Legendary Empire by Andrew Dal

Daily Life in the Byzantine Empire by Marcus Rautman

 

 

Byzantine Cuisine – Bread and Eggs

Vegetables were eaten by citizens of the Eastern Roman Empire and in a wide variety. Most of them were well know to the modern diet, such as cabbage, carrots and greens. Artichokes were well known and Antioch was famous for its cucumbers. Melons were cheap and readily available. Lentils were a staple in the diet of the poor. Those that could afford them seasoned their food with spices, some brought in from Asia. These included cinnamon, caraway, cardamom, cumin, ginger, nutmeg, saffron, pepper, clove, coriander, among many others that can still be find in our spice cabinets today, though now far more easily and cheaply obtained. Those with less money would use onions, leeks and garlic for seasoning their food. Eggs were favored by all classes and came from hens, geese and pheasants. The Byzantine omelet known as the sphoungata was stuffed with olives and goat cheese and perhaps chickpeas salted and cooked in olive oil. It would even have been on the table of the Emperor himself as mentioned in The Serpentine Key:

Little else was said as servants came in bringing great dishes of food. First came the platters of delicate cheese and also sphoungata, omelets made with olives and goat cheese. Anna picked up her spoon and found she had no desire to eat. For the time being, all talk of politics was dropped. Now was the time for the repast and no polite host spoke of business or politics until the figs and pomegranates had been brought forth. Alfaar looked hungrily at the great quantities of food placed on the table. A steaming platter of fish, surrounded by quail stuffed with their own eggs was set before them. Their cups were always kept filled with wine.

Bread has always been a staple of the diet as long as there have been civilization. White bread was the choice for the higher up, while dark bread served to feed the masses. Rye, barley and millet made the “dirty” bread known as ryparos. Flour of any kind was stored in earthenware jars to protect it from insects and rodents. Farm families baked their own bread and in the cities bread was mass produced in bakeries.

In any case, it seems the Byzantine diet was a varied one. While garum might not appeal to, there would have been plenty of food that would and would have been familiar to us.  Constantine originally provided bread rations to every citizen of Constantinople, but as the city grew, it became increasingly difficult to keep up with this demand. Hunger did not seem to be as much an issue as it was in other parts of Europe. While there were ninety-five famines in Britain alone in the medieval period, there seems to be little record of similar widespread devastation in the Eastern Roman Empire.  The comparative mildness of the Mediterranean climate may have had something to do with it, but also the relative political stability as well may have been a contributing factor.

Next time we will look at alcoholic beverages favored by those who lived in the Byzantine Empire. Let me know your thoughts below!

Sources: Everyday Life in the Byzantine Empire by Marcus Rautman

What life was like amid splendor and intrigue: Byzantine Empire, AD 330-1453 by Ellen Anker, Time Life Books

Byzantine Cuisine – Meat and Fish Sauce

Since I mention food so often in my books, and I have spent so much time researching Byzantine cuisine, I thought the food of the time period would make an interesting article. Eating is a subject is of prime interest to everyone. Not only is it important for sustenance, but it occupies a space in human life that comprises a social aspect. It was no less important to the people of the middle Byzantine period. Food in Byzantium was abundant and of a particular quality few in Western Europe enjoyed at the time. Even the poor often ate better than some better off individuals might have eaten at the same time in say, England. Nevertheless, meat occupied a place of more prominence on the table of the upper middle class than it did the poor, and even then, meat such as beef was not often served. Cattle were more often used for dairy and draft animals. As Constantinople and indeed much of the Empire was in some way close to the sea, one should not be surprised to find that much of the diet was comprised of seafood. All manner of shellfish, mackerel, tuna and mullet were among the general bounty of the Mediterranean. The Eastern Roman Empire, while not as vast as the Roman Empire had been before the split, covered a good piece of real estate and the diets of the inhabitants would be varied according to the culture at that particular time and place. Even in Constantinople, much of the customs regarding food were influenced by Arab cuisine. Constantinople was a cosmopolitan place akin to cities like New York or London today. There were many cultures and languages flowing in and out of her gates daily. From the south and the east came traders bring goods such as spices and dates from India, from Arabia and Africa. Honey was brought in from the Baltic countries, and pickled herring from the North Sea. Figs and pomegranates were brought from the Aegean coast and Anatolia supplied grapes, pears and apples that were much sought after. From the coast of the Euxine Sea (Black Sea) came hyssop, aloes and asafetida as well as fish roe. The rest of the western world was befuddled by the Byzantine predilection for salads. Interestingly, there is no mention of coffee in Byzantine sources, though it seems they would have been familiar with it from close association with the Arabs. Perhaps they did not care for it.

While there was of course the usual care taken to comply with requirements of Lent, the well off diner could expect to eat three meals a day, the latter two consisting of three courses. Even the better off in Western Europe rarely ate more than two meals a day, the largest being at midday.

The fish sauce known as garum was well known and widely consumed, though the best garum was produced for only those who could afford it. Garum, sometimes also known as liquamen was apparently an acquired taste. Either you loved it or you hated it. In simplest terms, it was the fermented innards of fatty fish such as anchovies, sardines and mackerel. Mixed with salt, pepper and old wine it was left in the sun for two to three months, after which it was served mixed with oil or wine. A tenth century Byzantine collection of agricultural lore, the Geoponika, gives the following description for the manufacture of garum:

What is called liquamen is thus made: the intestines of fish are thrown into a vessel, and are salted; and small fish, especially atherinae, or small mullets, or maenae or lycostomi, or any small fish, are all salted in the same manner; and they are seasoned in the sun, and frequently turned; and when they have been seasoned in the heat, the garum is thus taken from them. A small basket of close texture is laid in the vessel filled with the small fish already mentioned, and the garum will flow into the basket; and they take up what has been percolated through the basket, which is called liquamen; and the remainder of the feculence is made into allec.

This mixture sounds foul to our modern palate, but fetched a high price in the markets of Constantinople. It was obviously not to everyone’s taste. Liutprand of Cremona, an ambassador from the Holy Roman Emperor, Otto I, disapproved of his food being covered in an “exceedingly bad fish liquor.”

Next time we will discuss the most common foodstuffs in the empire — bread and eggs. Let me know your thoughts on Byzantines and gastronomic subjects below!

Sources:

The Complete Works of Liudprand of Cremona (Medieval Texts in Translation) Liudprand (Bishop of Cremona)

Everyday Life in the Byzantine Empire by Marcus Rautman

Was Trajan’s Gate a Conspiracy?

Trajan’s Gate By Vassia Atanassova – Spiritia

In  The Serpentine Key, I take the idea that the Battle of Trajan’s Gate in August 986, was actually part of a conspiracy by some of Basil’s nobles to discredit him or even cause his death as part of the coup that was fomenting back in the capital city, Constantinople.

There is little historical record to go on and one of the main historians and eye witness to the battle itself, Leo Diaconus was actually not a supporter of Basil and was in fact, quite a harsh critic of him later on.

Map showing the routes taken by Byzantine and Bulgarian armies

What we do know is that Bulgaria was an extensive threat to the Byzantine Empire and the young Basil, so new at taking the reins to his own empire, set out with 30,000 soldiers to lay siege to Serdica (modern day Sophia). The siege was a disaster. Historians tells us the the generals were inexperienced and incompetent (purposely so?) and placed the siege engines too close to the city walls. This left them vulnerable and the inhabitants destroyed them. They were further put at a disadvantage when their own supplies were destroyed by insurgents who sneaked out of the city at night. Before long, the besiegers were in as a dire situation as the besieged. Furthermore, the commander who was in charge of their retreat, Leon Melissinos, had pulled back his troops to Phillippopolis (present day Plovdiv). The commander of Basil’s western army, a man whom history only records as Stephen Kontostephanos, or Stephen the Short, urged Basil to head back to the city with all haste, with the advice that Melissinos was hastening back to take part in a coup brewing there.

Basil decided to cut his losses early and after a failed siege that had lasted less than three weeks, began a retreat through Trajan’s Gate. This was to prove to be a disastrous move. By marching his men through the mountain pass known as Trajan’s Gate, Basil had effectively set up his remaining army for a strategic ambush. It wasn’t long before the word came back to the army that Samuil’s troops had circled around and lay in wait, blocking every exit from the narrow defile through the mountains. This is not in dispute by historians. From all I have read and researched, I have yet to find anyone questioning the actions of Leon Melissinos as he pulled back the men who were supposed to guard the retreat and prevent this very disaster. Nor has anyone questioned the actions of the shadowy Kontostephanos as he urged the young and inexperienced emperor to hurry into what must surely have been a trap laid for him.

Could there have actually been a conspiracy between the supporters of the nobleman Bardas Phokas who was fomenting the rebellion from afar in Anatolia and the followers of Samuil of the Bulgarian Cometopuli dynasty? This seems unlikely, given the Byzantine attitude towards the Bulgarians at the time. Was Melissinos merely incompetent like the generals who had left the siege engines vulnerable to the besieged? Or was there something more sinister afoot? Did Kontostaphanos have his emperor’s best interest in mind when he urged him to hurry back to Constantinople? Or was this a way to funnel the emperor and his army very neatly into a pass flanked on either side with waiting archers and spearmen?

We do know that the nobles were very upset that the young emperor, Basil would go on campaign against the Bulgarians without their consent. This was likely a matter of control that they sensed they were losing over him. The emperor had already banished his powerful great uncle, the Imperial Chamberlain, Basil Lekapenos from court the year before. The young Basil was nothing if not determined and as the years in his later reign would show, he was not above eliminating any who stood in his way. He had to be stopped. Regicide was hardly new to Constantinople. Only a few years before, Basil’s step-father Emperor Nikephoros II had been the victim of just such a conspiracy having been beaten to death by John Tzmiskes. Later, Tzmiskes himself was rumored to be the victim of assassination. Some said the Imperial Chamberlain himself was behind it. So why not get rid of the young upstart Basil once and for all and make it look like a battle plan gone horribly awry?

As it turns out, the ambush did go badly. Basil, though possibly wounded, was not a casualty however. There was but one mountain pass either left unguarded or very poorly blocked and with the help of his elite advance guard, the emperor made his escape, though at a very great personal and political loss. Many of his soldiers were captured as well as the baggage wagons and the imperial insignia. He limped back to Constantinople with what remained of his army to find the whispers of rebellion echoing in the shadows of her streets. It would be three more long weary years before Basil could finally feel that the power of empire lay firmly in his grip. He had proved after all that he was a man capable of winning and holding the throne of the Eastern Roman Empire.

Let me know your thoughts below. I would love to hear from you!

Sources: History of Leo the Deacon: Byzantine Military Expansion in the Tenth Century by Leo Diaconus

The Bulgarian-Byzantine Wars for Early Medieval Balkan Hegemony: Silver-Lined Skulls and Blinded Armies by Dennis P. Hupchick

 Byzantium: The Imperial Centuries, AD 610-1071 by Romilly James Heald Jenkins

Mythical Characters as Archetypes

Delving into mythology always brings one to discover interesting archetypes. In The Serpentine Key, Odin plays a minor, yet pivotal role in helping my main character discover something about himself. Odin is a study in contradictions, a multifaceted being who seems to shift and change, perhaps as he is interpreted. But putting such a mythical being in fiction is hardly new.

J.R.R. Tolkein was an English author noted primarily for his Lord of the Rings trilogy as well as its prequel, The Hobbit. He had been known to lament that England had no myth of her own, so Middle Earth was created, based extensively on The Ring of the Nibelung cycle as well as the Norse and Anglo Saxon myths that left them indelibly printed on Tolkien’s native soil.
It was natural to find the Germanic stories wending themselves in the work of an English author. Much of Celtic lore had been repressed by four hundred years of Roman occupation and Norse and Saxon tales were England’s most recent arrivals.

Many character archetypes can be found in Tolkien’s writing, most notably Gandalf known as the “wanderer” as was Odin himself. Like Odin, he wore a broad brimmed hat and wandered the earth with a staff. It is a hallmark of such a god that when he comes to your door such as he did Bilbo Baggins’ you must heed the call. He is not easily driven away. Like Gandalf, sometimes Odin’s messages to us seem keenly like warning when we are inclined to feel to sorry for ourselves and or too smug or simply too comfortable in our own personal status quo and we need a spiritual lesson taught.

Perhaps this “Consciousness” as Jung taught has come down to other authors, such as J.K. Rowling, also English, who depicted Hagrid, a man who comes knocking at your door and cannot be ignored. Like Odin, he is born of giants, large, bearded and closely associated with the natural world. Like Odin and Gandalf, he comes to Harry Potter’s door with a mission and won’t take no for an answer. Also he is associated with the natural world like Odin,

Odin shows up in long loved childrens’ tales such as Jack and the Beanstalk. To me, as a child, highly imbued with the old tales, the beanstalk seemed to represent the “world tree”, Yggdrasil, reaching up into the cosmos and yet the cosmos itself. At the top was a giant who possessed various magical articles that Jack was to try to obtain. Odin himself was born of giants and could easily have crept into such tales. As Christianity came to the British Isles, many of the old stories went underground, cloaked in mystery as much as the Old Man himself. He never entirely went away though, only cloaking himself in the tales. He comes to us still as Santa Claus. Before that, he was Father Christmas, a bearded, hooded figure, surprisingly benevolent. In the old tales, Odin was said to leave gifts to children in their shoes, taking the proffered hay for his eight legged horse, Sleipneir. To this day, Dutch children put out shoes for Sinterklaass, who rides a gray horse and who has two black faced helpers, listening at the chimneys to see who has been naughty or nice” who perhaps evolved from Odin’s two raven messengers, Huggin and Munnin, “Thought” and “Memory”. Over time, Odin, like all the old gods was made more palatable for the Christians of Europe by making him a saint and he comes down to us as Santa Claus or Saint Nick.

The gods received a heavy handed veneer by the coming of Christianity, never completely annihilated, but woven into the fabric of Old Europe. Our own planet Earth was named for the mother of Thor, a goddess named Jorth, one of Odin’s lovers. Most of the days of the week were named for the old gods. Even customs like “knock on wood” which almost everyone has heard, may go back to the custom of touching wood and calling on the god of the woods, the Saxon “Woden”, the spirit of all things wooden and a deity closely related to the Norse Odin.

I always found the “Old Ones” of Europe’s Iron Age cultures to be captivating fodder for character archetypes. They reveal something about the people who revered them, aspects of their daily lives that even archaeology sometimes has a difficult time revealing. They reveal stories of their own and forge a path that any writer can enjoy.  Let me know your thoughts below!