Yggdrasill and the divine "food chain"

In my last article (http://andreamaraschi.hubpages.com/hub/Food-and-creation-in-Old-Norse-mythology) I analysed the role of food in Old Norse mythology for what concerned the creation of the cosmos. I thus made use of excerpts from the two versions of the Edda (prose and poetic) featuring the questions that king Gylfi, disguised as an old man by the name of Gangleri, asked High, Just-as-High and Third. They told him about the cow of creation, Audhumla, from whose udders sprang four rivers of milk which fed the first created being: the giant Ymir. She also gave birth to the ancestor of the gods, Buri, by feeding herself on the salty stones of Ginnungagap.

Therefore, it's quite evident that, in Old Norse culture, food had a deep symbolic meaning within the context of the creation of the universe. This was true for its destruction as well. High said that Ragnarok, the end of the world, would be announced by Fimbulwetr, the great winter. The wolf Fenrir would eventually be set free and would swallow the sun and deavour Odin; but still, two humans, Lif and Lifthrasir, would be able to survive by hiding in Hoddmimir's wood, where they would live on the morning dew («The morning dews | for meat shall they have») and finally repopulate the world.

Nevertheless, the role of food in the Eddas is not limited to such examples.

One of the better-known images Old Norse mythology has passed down to us is, without a doubt, that of the ash Yggdrasill: the holy place of the gods. There, as High said to Gangleri, each day the Nordic deities held their courts.

The worshipping of trees and other natural entities, such as springs and stones, was a peculiar trait of germanic and northern cultures in the Middle Ages. Christianity had to face it and, sometimes, accept and metabolize it. Its more elegant and significant expression was the world tree, which on its own, was at the origin of a fantastic food chain.

Let us not think of Yggdrasill as an ordinary ash tree: its branches stretched out over all the world, while its three roots reached, respectively, the land of the Æsir, that of the frost giants and Niflheim. This last root was greedily being gnawed at by the dragon (or serpent) Nidhogg, who yearned for the destruction of the tree. In substance, the annihilation of the world depended on the success or failure of two "alimentary" missions: a wolf trying to catch and swallow the sun; a dragon attempting to eat away at the world tree.

The root chewed on by Nidhogg is not the only one worth mentioning. Under the root that spread to Jotunheim, the land of the frost giants, was a magic well whose waters were referred to as mead. It was owned by the god of wisdom Mimir, who drank from it every day from a horn called Gjallarhorn. Mimir's well was so precious that Odin, literally thirsty for knowledge, had to give an eye as a pledge to have a sip from it.

The fact that mead was linked with wisdom is particularly interesting, since the liquor of poetic inspiration was mead as well (the so called mead of poetry, which will be the subject of one of my next articles). Does this mean that, in Old Norse tradition, such a beverage was culturally more relevant than ale and wine?

We could actually answer by making another similar question: does the miracle of Cana tell us something about the role of wine in Jewish (or rather, Mediterranean) tradition?

Well, in some senses, yes it does.

Many animals gravitated around Yggdrasill, and some of them lived on its foliage. This is the case, for example, of the four stags that stood on the top of the three: Dain, Dvalin, Duneyr and Durathror. Besides, according to the lay of Grimnir, many serpents helped Nidhogg gnaw at its roots, «more than any old fool imagines». We also know of two swans that fed on the water of the well of Urd, which lied beneath Yggdrasill. Indirectly, the world tree was nourishment to bees as well: they used to eat the honeydew which dripped in the valleys from its branches.

But the Eddas mention another tree, Lerad (or Laerad), which should probably be identified with Yggdrasill itself. The goat Heidrun loved to feed on its leaves, and from her udders flowed an inexhaustible stream of mead (not milk!) destined for the drinking horns of the heroes of Valhalla, the Einherjar. As Gangleri said, «That goat is especially useful to them, and the tree that she eats from must be remarkably good».

Lerad/Yggdrasill was also nourishment for a fifth stag. His name was Eikthyrnir and, just like Heidrun, he stood on the top of Valhalla and nibbled at the leaves of the world tree. Not differently from Audhumla or Heidrun itself, Eikthyrnir was somehow involved in this divine food chain which was also a vital chain: the moisture dripping from its antlers formed the source Hvergelmir, «whence all waters rise» and many rivers take their origin.

Life had started with Audhumla feeding the giant Ymir, and kept blooming through the figures of other mythological creatures and their daily diets. What we learn from the Eddas is that some animals were culturally more significant than others, plausibly due to their importance as economic and alimentary resources: their meat and milk made cows, goats and stags identity-making animals in a geographic area where climate was not as favourable to agriculture as it was in Southern Europe.

At the same time, mead seems to be the beverage par excellence, while ale and wine play a minor role within the whole cosmic picture - but this is not absolutely true, as I will show in my next articles.

In summary, if the "alimentary" missions of Nidhogg and Fenrir carry a negative meaning, in general, food and nourishment have definitely a positive and propitious aura.

And to think that Eve's apple wasn't exactly as auspicious!