Work Text:
Froskakona þáttr
1. Arrival of the Frogwoman
There was a man Skapti, son of Thorodd. He was a skilled skald, and learned. Such that when his uncle died, he became lawspeaker in Iceland for many years. It happened one day, as he tended to his farm, his servants brought him a strange woman, who spoke as well as any other. Yet she bore a strange form, as if a frog. Her skin was bright, and she bore with her a strange box, with many jewels. Some spoke of taking it from her, but she insisted that it was cursed so men feared to touch it.
Skapti asked for her name, and although she was a woman she named herself as Leif. He asked from whence she came, and she replied that she came from far away.
Skapti asked if she was a Christian, and she said she was not. And although the priests affirmed she was no devil nor demon, men still feared her. Skapti suggested that she be sent to King Olaf, who ruled Norway at the time. And so it was agreed. Skapti sent his son Steinn, who had already visited the King along with the frogwoman so as to introduce her.
And when he was ready, Skapti took the frogwoman to his ship, to take her to Trondheim to see the King. The men aboard the ship feared her at first, for she was strange and knew strange things, but was ignorant in others.
“Why do you not fly?” She asked.
And none of the men knew how to answer until Steinn answered.
“Because we have no wings.”
And she laughed.
After that the winds were good and they arrived in Trondheim to meet the King.
Although she knew little of the lands of Norway, she feared the King. But she was assured that the King was a good Christian man, who would do her no undue harm. They entered the hall, where the King sat at his table, and greeted them well. King Olaf greeted them well in turn. He knows Steinn, but does not know who this strange woman is. She declared herself and her name.
“I have come from afar, sent by urgent need so as to avoid great calamity,” She says, and begged for the King’’s aid.
The King did not answer, but instead called for food and drink. He showed Steinn and the frogwoman to their seats. He brought forth his counselors and his bishop, and bid them seat themselves. Then he bid the frogwoman to tell her tale, so that he might make a judgement.
2. The Frogwoman’s Story
This is what the frogwoman said.
“Tell us,” said the King. “From where did you come?”
“I come from far away,” Said she. “A place where those like me are common, and you would look as strange to them as I do to you. I served at the court of a great king, Baldur Erikson. He ruled over many vast lands, Newtland, Mossland, and Shadowland. He had ruled for many years, as had his ancestors. He was a great King, but a terrible one. He took tribute from his lands in excess of what they could give, and slew all who might not obey him.”
“I have never heard of any king named Baldur Erikson,” The King said. “And I have gone a viking in many a place, in England and in Normandy. And my subjects have been from beyond Greenland in the west, and to Miklagard in the east. Yet none have ever told of a King of such name, nor any Kingdoms of such names as you told me.”
“That is how he wishes it,” said she. “For he is powerful in magic, and so is so concealed from the view of you, until such a time as he comes to conquer. Yet he knows of you, and all the other Kingdoms as well. For he covets them all.”
This was not good, the King admitted.
“I was a companion of his son the Prince Andri,” She said. “Alongside Bjarni the Bold, a sworn guard of the King. Mighty was he with a warhammer. Andri bore a sword of fire and power. I tended the gardens of the palace, but when called to fight I bore my sling mightily.”
“I swear it is so,” said Steinn. “She killed many birds on the voyage from Iceland.”
The King bid the Frogwoman continue.
“It came to pass that Andri was going to go a viking. And because Baldur was great of magic, he arranged to give a gift of great magic to his son. This box.”
And so she showed the King her box. Dark wood, covered in gold, expertly carved in the shape of frogs. Three great gems, ruby, sapphire, and emerald laid fixed upon it.
“Many powers this box has. It can lend strength to a warrior. It can conceal an army. It can make an entire fleet move so swiftly that the wind cannot keep up. In this box was all of Baldur’s power and his malice.”
“It is such a small box,” remarked the King. “Yet I do not doubt there is power inside. Continue your story.”
“Andri brought us to the box, so that we might see its power, and might revel in his new command. Yet when I touched it, I was struck by visions of death. Cities destroyed, the moon crashing down upon our heads, fire and destruction. I knew then that the box was of a great evil.”
She continued.
“I pled my case to the King, that the box was dangerous and not to be used. But the glory and the power had seduced him and all of his court. Too great was the magic for them to ever give it up. Even Andri dared not oppose his father. So I resolved to take the box and fly far away.”
“It is a grievous sin to betray one’s lord,” One of the King’s men said. “To steal from a King is death, as it should be. Doubly so for a woman to so defy a man.”
“Peace,” said the Bishop. “Do we not praise the martyrs who defied the pagan kings of old? Let us here her story before passing judgement.”
“I took the box from its hiding place,” Leif explained. “But Andri and Bjarni discovered me. I was forced to come to blows with my friends, and flee the castle by tricks and dodging. I have not seen either since.”
“How came you here?” Asked the King.
“I sought the aid of Mother Olfa,” She replied. “A most ancient and wise woman. Alone her people did defy the wickedness of King Baldur. So I fled to her, to seek her wise counsel. She spoke that there would come a time when the heavens would open and light would use the power for good. But today was not that day. And she said to me ‘you must take this box far, far, away, where neither Baldur nor Andri nor any others may find it’ and so she showed me how I might use the box to flee here. And so I came to Iceland with great haste, and thence to here, where I tell you this story, oh King.”
3. The Disposal of the Box
The King's Court was in uproar at her tale, and there was a great clamor. Some called her a witch, or a demon.
“Has she not admitted that the box is of evil magic?” One asked.
But the King calmed his men.
“It is easy enough to see whether or not she is a demon. For it is known that they cannot drink something blessed by a bishop. So let the bishop bless her cup, and let her drink.”
And it so happened that the bishop did as was instructed, blessing the Frogwoman’s cup in the sight of all, and the sight of the Lord. The Frogwoman drank with no issue or discomfort. And all were convinced that she was no demon. And all marveled at the King's wisdom.
“It is clear to me,” The Bishop said of the box. “That this is no relic of God, but foul devilry. Although this woman knows not the light of Christ, she is right that it cannot be used for good. Only for the ill of humanity. It must be destroyed.”
“Do you not think I have tried?” The Frogwoman cried out. “I have labored to do so, but nothing has yet destroyed it. I hope you find more success, but I doubt you shall.”
It so happened that all the men of the King's hall tried to then destroy the box, to no avail. Men brought down their swords, and their swords shattered. Axes chipped and broke upon the box. The Bishop's Holy Water did nothing. A smith tossed the box into the fire and yet it did not burn.
“She speaks the truth,” The King declared. “It cannot be destroyed by any man, we must await when God deems it time to be destroyed.”
“Mother Olfa counseled me to hide it away,” the Frogwoman explained. “So that it is not found and used until it should be.”
“A wise queen then,” said the King. “For I fear it is not only Andri Baldursson who might misuse this box’s power. Even some good kings would be tempted into tyranny.”
“It is a small mercy,” the Frogwoman said. “That none here know it so well as those in my homeland.”
“Time may change that,” The King warned. “Should it be studied men will find use for it.”
“Perhaps I might lay a trap for the unwary,” the Frogwoman says. “I know little of the box’s magic, but Mother Olfa told me how I might use it to travel to other worlds without hazard. But should I leave it somewhere, ready but not made safe, one who seems to use the box would be sent into grave danger. Thrown into deep, dark places, and struck as if by lightning by the incredible power, which has turned frogs to dust in the past, if our sagas are to be believed.”
“It is not the unwary we must fear,” The King said. “But those who may use it for evil and for ill.”
“Then we must hide it somewhere no one might find it by accident,” The frogwoman says. “And then I must go when I am finished, so that none may find me and take my knowledge by force.”
The King said. “Take the provisions that you need and go North, beyond even Iceland. To Lappland where the pagans still roam, or to Vinland of the skrælings. Take this box of calamity and go until you go no farther. Be banished from my realm, although you are no outlaw. Unlike all others I banish, I wish you only the best, and for God’s blessing upon you.”
The Frogwoman nodded, and gathered herself up in as many furs as she could wear. King Olaf commanded that drawings of the box be made, with warnings that it was a danger and that any who sought it would be traitors. And this was not declared to the people, for it would have caused trouble, but rather given to every monastery and library, so that future men may be warned. Steinn Skaptisson again took her aboard his ship, and sailed as far north as he dared. He released her onto the shore and bid her fair fortune. And they say no one has seen her since, and the box has vanished too. And that’s all there is to be told about the Frogwoman.
Commentary from the Most Recent Translation
“Froskakona þáttr” (Tale of the Frogwoman) is something of a bizarre interlude in the Óláfs saga helga. Óláfs saga helga is a hagiographical work centered on the life of Saint Olaf Haraldsson, King of Norway from 1015 to 1028. Several versions exist, with Froskakona þáttr first appearing in the version penned by Icelandic poet Snurri Sturluson in the 1220s AD, although it likely derives from a much older oral tradition. Like other þættir, Froskakona is a shorter interlude describing a story of a less notable individual or group who interacted with the King. These stories often feature Icelanders, and can serve as comic interludes or chances to round out the character of the King.
Even by the sometimes tenuous standards of the þættir, Froskakona is an odd text. It features what seemingly is a fantastical creature, some sort of talking frog creature. Yet the being is not presented as the sort of monster or demon that often populates the sagas, rather being a mere foreigner from far away lands. Although presented as unfamiliar with Christianity, the titular Frogwoman is presented far more in the mold of a Christian Saga Hero than a Pagan one. Certainly the author seems intent on playing up Saint Olaf credentials as a christian monarch, perhaps to compensate for the Frogwoma’s ambiguous faith.
The Frogwoman, named as Leif Griendóttir in the text, has been the subject of academic interest for the gender dynamics of her story. Although identified as a woman by the story, the name Leif was traditionally masculine in contemporary Scandinavian culture. And while active female characters are not unheard of in the sagas, Leif Griendóttir’s activities have been read as unusually masculine, although other scholars dispute this.
Given that Griendóttir is said to have been brought to the King “from the West” some have speculated that she was a Native American brought to court, with her story embellished with fantastical elements and her description as a frog. However at no point is the word “skræling” used to describe her, which means she was unlikely to be from Greenland or Vinland.
Attempts to identify the box mentioned in the text have proven frustrating. Initially is was dismissed as a strange literary choice, recent research has suggested such an item was at least thought to have existed. In 1875 researchers discovered a fairly accurate representation of the “Calamity Box” in the archives of Mont-Saint-Michel in Normandy with vague warnings of travel between worlds and danger. This document seems likely to have been copied from an older source, possibly English or Norse, although given the dissolution of the monasteries in those countries it becomes difficult to track the providence of this document. As archeology in the arctic has increased in recent years, there have been similar finds of pottery seeming to display the box and a frog, alongside viking warriors.
The box’s existence of course remains dubious, nor have any replicas been found to suggest widespread awareness of the story. It remains theoretically possible, of course, that such an artifact might have been found and sold illegally, unable to be opened due to rust until it arrived in the hands of someone able to clean it, and place it up for sale at which point it could have ended up in anyone’s unsuspecting hands.
- Dr. Sylvia Jan