Njal's Saga (Penguin Classics)

Njal's Saga is a justly famous work; the issue here is the translation from Old Norse to English. I give 3 stars because the buyer could easily think that the Kindle edition was the same translation as the paperback.The Penguin paperback edition here ($14.99) is Robert Cook's much praised 1997/2001 translation, with extensive useful footnotes, an introduction, and other useful apparatus. The sample will give you a good idea of how helpful the footnotes can be.The Kindle edition ($0.99) was published in2015 by Xist Publishing. The translator isn't identified in the Kindle text, but the Amazon page says that he is George Webbe Dasent, a British scholar who published a translation in 1861.I think most modern readers will prefer Cook's translation; the samples will also show you that Cook's footnotes are much more extensive and useful. (Xist Publishing may have omitted much of Dasent's original apparatus; the Kindle text begins with Chapter 1, with no introductory material at all.)On the other hand, the Kindle edition is essentially free, and gives you editable text if you are doing analysis..

One of the greatest novels written - and one of the earliest - this darkly funny saga of Viking life follows a series of offences and counter-offences that gradually form into a fatal vendetta. From its first line: "There was a man called Mord Fiddle" (Mord means 'murder'…) it gallops along.One of the highlights is a horribly hilarious account of the Battle of Clontarf, in which Brian Boru and his men - including many friends and relatives of his opponents - fight off invading Icelanders hired by his divorced wife to back her sons' claim to kingship. One of those being chased by another with battle-axe raised stops to do up his shoelace. "What are you stopping for?" asks yer man, axe still held ready to drop, and the shoelace-tyer shrugs and says: "I wouldn't reach home by nightfall anyway." The axeman laughs so much he has to let him go.Brilliant book.

I am grateful for this English translation of Njal's Saga, which makes this epic story accessible to so many. Though written in spare and simple language, the saga is breathtaking in scope, describing a remarkable series of triumphs, tragedies, intrigues, and unintended consequences over several decades. Though the saga is now nearly 1000 years old, it gives the Viking world it depicts a vigorous and compelling immediacy. The foreword and introduction to the saga are especially helpful and are worthwhile reading on their own. Despite the clarity and simplicity of the text provided in the translation, this is not an easy read because of the numerous characters introduced and the sheer scope of the story. Having first read the saga in a Norwegian translation, which I believe was likely to hew fairly closely to the old Norse writing of the original, I am impressed with how well this English translation seems to reflect the idiomatic worldview and expressions of the Norse.

I recently became interested in Norse mythology, and after acquiring a number of books on the subject my interest spilled over into Norse, particularly Icelandic, sagas. I bought the hefty Penguin "The Sagas of Icelanders", and since all the reviewers for it lamented the exclusion (understandably, for space reasons) of Njal's Saga, I bought that separately, and I've just finished reading it.I bought this translation, Cook's. There seemed to be two main choices, this or Magnus Magnusson's, and I noticed a few reviewers quite bluntly trashing Cook's translation, promoting Magnus's instead. I decided to start with Cook's anyway, figuring that, even if it was inferior to Magnusson's, I wouldn't know what I was missing, since I hadn't yet read Magusson's. Admittedly, I still haven't read Magnusson's translation, but I enjoyed Cook's translation very much and did not by any means think of it as lacking.In fact, in Cook's notes on the translation presented in the book, he explains his motivation and justification for translating the saga the way he did, in a way that seems to anticipate the disfavor of his translation by loyal Magnusson fans:"[This translation] differs from previous translations of Njal's Saga...in attempting to duplicate the sentence structure and spare vocabulary of the Icelandic text."After giving a few examples of the stylistic eccentricities in which the saga was originally written and demonstrating how he attempted to reproduce them in his translation--even contrasting an excerpt of Magnusson's translation with his own--he goes on to say:"It is hoped that the reader of this translation will accept--and even learn to enjoy--these and other efforts at fidelity, though they may seem strange at first. The intent has been to create a translation with the stylistic "feel" of the Icelandic original."Clearly, Cook did not set out to create a dry, inferior translation; rather he set out to create a more stylistically faithful translation, even if it meant sacrificing some of the flare and drama to which we as modern readers are accustomed.Regarding the story itself...what can one say? There is something immensely powerful about reading a piece of literature that was written over seven centuries ago and discovering that its author and the people about whom he wrote had many of the same thoughts, feelings, and problems that we do today. When a character responds emotionally to a situation, or feels frustrated because of a moral dilemma, we can still, despite the vast chasm of time separating us, so easily relate to him or her. Even the author's humor and wit are delightfully close to home. Stories such as Njal's Saga remind us that people from long ago and far away are just that: people. Just like us. In a popular culture that has a tendency to glorify the ephemeral, trendy Here and Now, it's a fact that's easy to forget.

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.

I'm a hopeless reader. When I read a good book, I tend to read it over again – several times. As I write this review, I'm reading Njal's Saga for the second time in a row. The book is fantastic; it is the longest and probably the best of all the Old Icelandic family sagas. The thing is, I have read it before: three or four times in Norwegian and parts of it in the Old Icelandic language. These are the first times I read the saga in English.Composed in the thirteenth century by an anonymous Icelandic writer, Njal's Saga is the story of long-lasting tenth century family feud. The blood feud was going on for generations. In the first part of the book, the families of Njal and Gunnar stand against each other, even if Njal and Gunnar are friends. It is their wives, Bergthora and Hallgerd, who are goading their people to fight, and a fatal spiral of law suits, killings and avenges gets more and more bloody and serious, until Gunnar himself is killed in a fierce battle.During this initial struggle over power and honour, many of Njal's and Gunnar's family members are dragged into the conflict, and in the second part of the book Njal's sons stand against Sigfus's sons, kinsmen of Gunnar. The feud gets out of all proportions and climaxes with the burning of Njal and all his family inside their hall. Now it is up to Kari, Njal's son-in-law, to avenge the burning, and he does a thorough job, to say the least. Reconciliation is first reached after the remaining fifteen of the burners are killed in the Battle of Clontarf in Ireland in 1014.I like Robert Cook's English translation. The grammatical structure gives a feel of the Old Icelandic original, and for a Norwegian reader it is a relief to meet a usage that is not weighed down by too many lengthy words of Latinate origin that have entered the English language centuries after the narrated events.For first time readers (as for all readers) the maps, family trees, the index, and the introduction (in the Penguin Classics edition) are of great help. There are so many characters, places and genealogies referred to in Njal's Saga that it is almost impossible to see all the family relations the first time one read the book. And these relations are essential; they are the underlying motor driving all the action in this extremely well-composed saga.

Epic Viking story that traces blood feuds, atonement and adventures through generations of the Icelandic folk.A bewildering cast of warriors and adventurers.Wonderful read.

This is one of the best of the Icelandic sagas. It displays all their characteristic strength of narrative and drama. The characters are real people from real communities living in identfiable places in Iceland around the year 1000. (No doubt the events have been slightly manipulated by the writer 200 years later.) Some of the key personalities in the developing crisis are women - strong and sometimes wicked women. Their personal animosities and intrigue lay the foundation for the tragedy which engulfs so many in the community. There is a large cast of characters, and personal names and blood relationships can be hard to follow (rather as in the great Russian novels), but the Penguin Classics edition supplies the help you need. This is a farming community of equals (but for the slaves) and personal honour is the force which drives forward the feuds which claim so many lives. Each free man is a warrior, prepared to assert his rights by force if necessary. This is not a modern novel, and one has to be willing to put up with what may seem digressions from the main track of the growing dispute betwen Njal and his neighbours. With patience, one sees how the various threads come together to contribute to the horrifying climax, when Njal and his wife lie down under an ox hide in their own bed and wait for the fire set by their enemies to reach them.

Nyal, a wise, sober and thoughtful man whose concern was for order, justice and traditional values of honour and fair play, finally burned alive within his home along with his sons, yet defiant to the end in a quiet and humble manner. This is an intriguing Saga full of nuances and juxtapositions at a time when christianity was beginning to replace the 'old' religion. Law (the "Althing) and a sense of fair play are at the heart of this Saga and it is ignominy of the murderers who even as they set light and watched the Nyalsons house ablaze feared to enter until the embers cooled as the echo of Skarp-Hadden's chant (Njal's valiant son) could be heard within the burning house. He had set his axe into the wooden timbers and continued to sing although his legs were burned out from beneath him and all that heard feared him. It is wonderful stuff and the fact that the sons of Nyal, out of respect for their father and aware that their foes lacked the valour to be expected of men of their position and would murder them by fire, still entered the property and accepted certain death, is both moving and heroic. This is a book of principal and honour and unlike Egil has a greater wealth of characters than the central figure alone. This is a must to read