In the dying days for the past year, we had yet another brew-up of that perennial comparative IE misapprehension that we can succinctly surmise as “Jupiter is Thor”, with a side-order of “because Tacitus said so”.

Now, as it should happen, Tacitus in fact said no such thing (and indeed, it’s the Hercules that Tacitus mentions therein Who ought be (correctly) taken as ‘Thor’).

But whilst we could tap out another suite of (no-doubt scintillating) rantology in relation to what’s actually in the text in question – this isn’t what this piece is going to be about.

Instead, it’s another suite of ‘Interpretatio’ – an ‘Interpretatio Germanica’, indeed, rather than an ‘Interpretatio Romana’ [i.e. an undertaking by a Germanic sphere person with relation to the Roman visages for the Gods, rather than – as with Tacitus – the other way around].

Which I was utilizing with a view toward demonstrating some of the problems with taking at an uncritical face-value various of these sorts of schemas sketched out by certain of the scholars of yore.

Because often-times, it helps to show us that what they were identifying via their ‘Interpretatio’ was not what we would consider a ‘theologically accurate’ understanding for cognate deific expressions (although it could also wind up being such – if somewhat inadvertently).

But rather, instead, some other attribute which they are seeking to draw into the clearest relief.

And that’s when they’re not simply misinformed and acting upon a most decidedly imperfect informational basis – particularly as compared to where we’re at here in the modern day.

In any case, I also felt it worth highlighting the … diversity of some of these potential ‘Interpretatio’ equivalencies sketched out over the years by pre-modern commentators precisely because there is so much ignorance out there as to their very existence. People just seem to presume that Tacitus set out X and the Days of the Week likewise, and that’s all there is to it. Often, anyway. So the idea that the whole thing was very much ‘in flux’ and disagreed upon between different source-materials even of relatively similar ages and origins, is useful in helping to deconstruct the iron-clad-certitude which some more contemporary comment-ers look absolutely determined to try and interject into the evolving comparative IE theological conversation because of their own personal objections to the status of Odin in relation to the Sky Father deific complex, &c.

But on with the show !

Saxo Grammaticus’ Gesta Danorum [‘Deeds of the Danes’] was written in the late 1100s by a Danish Christian, and takes something of a propagandtastic approach to both the pre-Christian religion of his forebears and the (still significantly and within living memory ‘pagan’) nation of Sweden to his immediate north.

Which is not to say that his words are inherently worthless to us when it comes to attesting the beliefs of the Nordic pre-Christian past … only that they must be, as they say, “handled with caution”.

Because whilst on the one hand, he had a rather significant advantage over Tacitus of actually being a Germanic[-speaking] person directly in the Germanic sphere (rather than having to rely upon intermediaries, and with greater vulnerability to ‘cultural/linguistic misunderstandings’ – as assumedly underpinned things like Tacitus’ mention for a Germanic tribe supposedly called the ‘Harii’ [i.e. ‘The Warriors’] ) … those twin biases aforementioned render his work a demonstrably ‘twisted’ presentation; and in a rather more intentional manner than Tacitus’ mere ignorance could hope to match.

In some cases, this is plainly obvious – where he euhemerizes Odin as a human chieftain of Sweden (and a sorcerer, at that … as, according to Saxo, Thor also allegedly was to have been) and Asgard as Byzantium, for instance. In other places we are left with lingering questions as to just how much of a given narrative is at least somewhat authentic(-ish) versus a product of Saxo’s own (re-)writing as to details.

Which is where the unique contribution of the comparative Indo-European theology makes itself known – and as we have demonstrated upon variuos occasions via the direct comparison of certain things found in Saxo with, say, the Vedic evidence. The net result of which has been to uncover some surprising Germanic mythic perspectives which would otherwise have proven lost to us. But again, more upon all of that some other time.

As applies Saxo’s ‘Interpretatio Germanica’ viz. Odin, there is a well-known feature for it of Odin’s being identified with Pluto – more particularly, the “Orci Plutonem” as at VIII 5 1 7, the “Stygius Pluto” as at VII 11 4 2, and the Phlegethon-linked Pluto encountered procuring the ‘noble dead’ as at II 7 21 5 (directly correlate with the Hárbarðsljóð [24] hailing, as noted by Wellendorf, that “Óðinn á jarla, þá er í val falla” – which should work out as something like ‘Odin owns [‘eiga’ in 3rd person sing. indicative] the Jarls [Nobles], those who in[to] [‘í’ being an ‘in’ of motion or station] the slain [‘val’] they fall’ ).

As it happens, this is … basically correct, as far as these (rather surface-level) things go. Hades / Pluto being a Facing of the Sky Father deific (as we have discussed, replete with direct Classical attestations upon the subject, many times previously) particularly salient for the Underworld / Afterlife (and, for that matter, the connexion viz. Oaths – ‘Orci’ in relation to ‘Zeus Horkios’, for instance) logically fits (ish) with Odin and Valhalla.

Even if, clearly, there’s some evident spate of differential between the ‘Heavenly’ (or, at least, ‘Celestial’ / ‘Upwards’) situation Odin presides over in the actual Nordic cosmology (as mediated via Sturluson) for Valhalla etc., and the literally Under World of the evolution for Greek / Roman myth (we’re not even going to touch Saxo’s questionable usage of ‘Tartarus’). And, of course, the manner in which Valhalla’s more ‘selective’ entry-criteria render it presumptively a better fit for Elysium / the Isles of the Blessed than the generally more ‘catchall’ (realm of) Hades. But I digress.

I also believe (as does Wellendorf) that the ‘Jove superos’ [‘Highest Jupiter’] referred to at II 7 7 1 would be Odin – mentioned there by Saxo in relation to Oaths sworn by warriors (and c.f. again that situation involving ‘Orci Pluto’ , which likewise involves a warrior and an apparent Oath [‘vota’]). If correct, then it would certainly not be the only such attestation for Odin as Jupiter – that well-known recension of the Icelandic Rune Poem [ AM 687d 4° ], for example, directly presents ᚬ ( Óss – the Younger Futhark continuation for ᚨ , *Ansuz) as Odin’s … and concludes the verse by hailing Him as “Jupi[ter] Oddviti” : that is to say ‘Imperator Jupiter’ .

However, the reason that I’ve felt myself somewhat compelled to pen this piece (on Christmas morning – at 04:47 , no less !) concerns another ‘Interpretatio’ equation made by Saxo within the course of his work.

That being Odin … Mars.

What’s the text say? Well, let’s take a look, shall we:

“[ At Biarco: ] At nunc, ille ubi sit, qui vulgo dicitur Othin
armipotens, uno semper contentus ocello,
dic mihi, Ruta, precor, usquam si conspicis illum.

Ad haec Ruta:
Adde oculum propius et nostras perspice chelas,
ante sacraturus victrici lumina signo,
si vis praesentem tuto cognoscere Martem.

Tum Biarco:
Si potero horrendum Friggae spectare maritum,
quantumcumque albo clipeo sit tectus et altum
flectat equum, Lethra nequaquam sospes abibit;
fas est belligerum bello prosternere divum.”
[II 7 25-27]

What’s all that work out as in English?

“[But Biarki retorted:] But now, where is the one whom the people call Odin,
powerful in arms, content with a single eye?
Tell me, Ruta, is there anywhere you can spy him?’

Ruta replied:
‘Bring your gaze nearer and look through my arms akimbo;
you must first hallow your eyes with the sign of victory
to recognize the war god safely face to face.’

Then Biarki:
‘If I should set eyes on the fearsome husband of Frigg,
though he is protected by his white shield, and manoeuvres
his tall horse, he shall not go unhurt from Lejre;
it is right to lay low the warrior god in battle.”
[II 7 25-27, Fisher translation]

As one can see, this is quite clearly Odin. Who else should be declared as “Othin”, or the Terrific Husband of Frigg?

And yet we clearly behold – ‘Martem’, that is to say ‘Mars’. Further, as pointed out by Wellendorf, there’s a rather curious situation for ‘Armipotens’ in relation to Odin – ‘The Warlike’ – which appears to be “an epithet connected with Mars in Virgil’s Aeneid (9.717), Saxo’s principal model when it comes to poetic expressions and phrasing.” He further adds: “The general parallelism established between Mars and Óðinn in this passage justifies reading Virgil as a subtext for Saxo and partly invalidates Friis-Jensen’s argument in Saxo og Vergil, pp. 46–7, that the adjective armipotens is quite common and that its Virgilian usage cannot be taken to be Saxo’s model.”

So what’s going on here?

Well, it would be simple enough to take it as it at first seems – namely, that ‘Mars’ here is not being utilized in the sense of Mars The God, but rather as a ‘quality’ of Mars : that of being a War-God. Certainly, that’s quite a logical method of interpreting the line in question.

Except here’s the thing. This isn’t the only instance we have for Odin being referred to as ‘Mars’.

Enter Adam of Bremen.

In the course of his ‘Gesta Hammaburgensis Ecclesiae Pontificum’ [IV 26] we encounter the following description as applies the worshipping at the famed Swedish temple-town of Uppsala:

“Wodan, id est furor, bella gerit hominique ministrat virtutem contra inimicos […]
Wodanem vero sculpunt armatum, sicut nostri Martem solent.”

What does this translate as ?

“Wotan – that is the Furious – carries on war and imparts to man strength against his enemies. […]
But Wotan they chisel armed, as our people are wont to represent Mars”
[Tschan translation]

Again, a Christian source – and again, and rather more expressly, an identification of Odin with Mars.

(This is also, as it should happen, a ‘main offender’ text for equating Thor and Jupiter – although it is interesting to observe that in the next section [IV, 27], the chronicler describes that “Si pestis et famis imminent, Thor ydolo lybatur” – that is to say, “If plague and famine threaten, a libation is poured to the idol Thor” (translation, again, as per Tschan), immediately following the Thor-Jupiter (mis-)identification. I mention this because, of course, one would not usually think of Thor in relation to these fields … but one would think of Rudra (and Apollo), and we do have direct occurrence in the Ynglinga Saga (47) for Odin being propitiated in relation to the alleviation for famine by the Swedes.

Given Adam of Bremen never actually went anywhere near Uppsala, and phrases his presentation for the place immediately following his passage [IV 25] declaring the eastern frontier of Sweden to be overrun with “Amazones” [‘Amazons’], “Cynocephali” [‘Dog-Headed [Men]’], and “Ciclopes” [‘Cyclopes’] … we can, perhaps, restrain our surprise that he might get some details rather askew of their actual reality.)

There are other (again, Christian) sources we might draw from. Battista identifies a rather amusing – to me, at any rate, for reasons we shall briefly annotate in a moment – situation for Athens being referred to as Aþenisborg within the context of the Páls saga postola [that is … the ‘Saga of [St] Paul’ – ‘postola’ being ‘Apostle’] and then Oþensborgar.

Why I find that amusing is because, of course, somebody’s effectively gone ‘Athens’ [“Aþenis” i.e City of Athena] / ‘Aþenisborg’ [which uh … yeah, ‘City of Athen(a/s)’, indeed] and then leaped straight over to terming it “Oþensborg” – that is to say, Odin’s City [the actual term utilized, “Oþensborgar’, being the genitive thereof]. Which is actually remarkably (accidentally) insightful – insofar as there exists a rather under-known situation of Athena resonating quite closely with Rudra [I shall not detail all of that herein – we have examined it in quite some depth elsewhere] in various respects (and c.f. the more overtly known points of Athena – Zeus concordancy, also) to the point that at least some of Athena’s mythos is ‘running off’ the underlying IE ‘Sky Father’ deific complex.

Although I really do rather doubt whether the scribal inputs responsible for this situation aforementioned within the Saga of the Apostle Paul … had ever stopped to contemplate the circumstance given at Iliad XIX 349-354 for Athena in Falcon ( ἅρπῃ – ‘harpei’) form coming to deliver Ambrosia & Nectar to Achilles in a manner directly reminiscent for Odin as Eagle bringing the Mead of Poetry … not least due to the fact they’d never have heard of Rudra(-Agni) in Falcon/Hawk (Shyena) form bringing the Soma … you get the idea. [As it happens, in her comment upon Saxo Grammaticus, Lessen picks up upon the same Friis-Jensen point viz. the “Armipotens” that we had earlier encountered – referencing the latter’s comment of this apparently also being prominent in relation to “Pallas Athene”.]

In any case, the reason we reference the ‘Páls saga postola’ herein is due to Battista’s observation (as applies AM 645 4° – the oldest version for the text which has come down to us) for the ‘Areopagus’ – the site of civic prominence upon the famed ‘Hill of Ares’ where one could find the similarly named stern court for serious crimes (most particularly murder) and religious matters – that this had apparently been rendered in the Nordic presentation, as “hof Oþens” [the version I have seen in the requisite language has “hofs Oþens”]. That is to say, as the ‘Temple / House of Odin’. Something which, again, would make almost accidental sense in terms of the actual nature for the site – of stern deliberation, wisdom, and judicial proceedings.

[This is notwithstanding, as it should happen, another (and subsequent) recension for the Saga (AM 234 – which I have not, myself, lain eyes upon) having the perhaps more expected ‘hof Tyss’ – i.e. House of Tyr – instead, as Battista also notes. Nor, for that matter (and again, per Battista – although this, I have personally checked in the original language), a page earlier in AM 645 4°, the same source as had the ‘Hill of Ares’ as the Hof of Odin also choosing to present the famous incident for Paul & Barnabas being mistaken for Mercury & Jupiter, as Oþin and Þor , respectively]

There are an array of further Saints’ Sagas that we might make reference to for their occasionally rather … eyebrow-raising ‘Interpretatio’ efforts; as well as for their more anticipated reaffirmations of that which we know to be generally accurate. To speak to both suites but briefly … the former includes occurrences like that within Sebastianus Saga [Heilagra Manna Søgur II 230 14], wherein Odin is presented as Saturn / Saturnus – “Saturnus Cretensibus” in the original Latin becoming “Odin […] i Krit”, the second word in each instance referring to the Cretan locale ruled by the Roman-ish figure. Evidently, the logic here was quite simple and straightforward – “if, then” as anchored upon an unsecure foundation. More specifically, “if” Thor were to be Jupiter, “then” that would logically entail that the Father of Thor should be the Father of Jupiter. Which, to be sure, does neatly address the objections raised to the most obvious difficulty of the Jupiter-Mercury relationship being utilized to stand for Thor and Odin – namely, that Mercury is quite clearly not the Father of Jupiter (a point picked up upon with some gusto by Saxo Grammaticus [VI 5 4] in arguing against the Thor-Jupiter and Odin-Mercury equations [“Cum ergo Latini contrario opinionis tenore Mercurium Ioue editum asseuerent, restat, ut constante eorum affirmatione Thor alium quam Iouem, Othinum quoque Mercurio sentiamus extitisse diuersum”]; and also seized upon by Archbishop Wulfstan II of York with an ill-disguised glee in his ‘De Falsis Diis’ (‘On False Gods’) [143-149], in a bid to make out that the religious beliefs of the unconverted Norsemen were incoherent and that they did not know their own theology … which is a rather unanticipated attempted ‘weaponization’ of a [flawed] ‘Interpretatio’).

Clearly, while it did occur on at least some occasions, endeavouring to hang an entire ‘Interpretatio’ equivalency off such a single strand of data-point in such a manner did not produce much of a ‘resonant’ conclusion.

Another (and, if anything, even more) ‘unanticipated’ ‘Interpretatio’ effort comes down to us per per two recensions for Clemens Saga [AM 655 XXVIII a 4° 280 4 ; AM 645 4° 146 31-32] – wherein, singularly bizarrely we encounter Odin as the apparent translational rendering for Hercules. Which, (Hanuman notwithstanding) one would have to say would simply present a blatant theological incoherency. Certainly, one would more usually interpret it as a sign that the translator ‘just didn’t care’ (or otherwise was hopelessly ignorant) – and given that the (original, Latin-language) context for the occurrence is Saint Clement having allegedly incited a riot by insisting the Gods not to be Divine … well, you can see why a Christian translator might have just figured it didn’t matter too much which set of ‘false’ Gods were equated with what if it’s all ‘false’ anyway and gotten careless.

Except here’s the thing. It doesn’t look like “Hercules” was actually what they were translating there. As in – they weren’t going for a straightforward ‘this character is Hercules – this is the same figure in a different name’ as we might anticipate. Instead, what they appear to have done (per Battista, and also Wellendorf) is something somewhat more intriguing.

Hercules, in the original Latin text, is presented like this – “Herculem conservatorem nostrum dicit esse immundum spiritum” : “he says our protector Hercules is an unclean spirit” [Passio sancti Clementis, XVI 2; translation as presented in Wellendorf].

This is rendered in the Old Norse as “Óðin óhrein anda” and “Óðni órlausnafullum ok hvarfsemi […] óhreinan anda” [AM 655 XXVIII a 4° 280 4 ; AM 645 4° 146 31-32, respectively ]. And as applies what that means … óhrein / óhreinan is the “unclean” – “o-” for the ‘negation’ (‘un-‘), and ‘hreinn’ providing the ‘clean/pure’ (and not to be confused with the other ‘hreinn’, which means ‘reindeer’).

Anda (more properly, ‘Andi’ – ‘Anda’ being the verb, or various cases for the noun) meanwhile, is a term which at once can mean ‘Spirit’ or ‘Breath’ [c.f. the ‘önd’ granted to Askr & Embla by Odin in the course of the Voluspa’s account for the raising of humanity to sapience] and potentially ‘spiritual power’ (we would, perhaps, say ‘Siddhi’) – one of a suite of Indo-European terms in various IE cultures which connote both ‘Breath[ing]’ and ‘Spirit’, often with an additional saliency for ‘Fury’ or other such strong emotion; as we see for its Old English cognate, ‘Anda’ – which has gone down a slightly different trajectory and therefore more exclusively focuses for the ‘Fury’, ‘Zeal’, ‘Hatred’ (‘Animosity…’) which are the active expression for such a (Hot) Breath of Spirit. (You can see the same thing in the Latin cognates for ‘Andi’, ‘Anima’ & ‘Animus’ – the former of which in particular maintains the ‘spirit’ and ‘breath’ shadings; the latter of which focusing more upon the (‘animating’) ‘spirit’ and active-expression for such through overt potent mental / emotional states. Ancient Greek ‘Thumos’ (‘θῡμός’), whilst not linguistically cognate, nevertheless should prove strongly functionally coterminous; featuring, as it does, both this ‘Soul’ and ‘Breath’ suite of sense along with the ‘passionate’ active-emotions – not only fury, but also, as it should happen, love, too . And there are, almost needless to say, salient Roudran terms & theonymics which we might also draw from, for the Hindusphere.)

In essence, it is a very Odinic term indeed. As it should be. And therefore, of course, rendering ‘Spirit’ into Old Norse and producing ‘Andi’ should seem to automatically conjure the spectre for Odin (that Deity famously of Fury, Wind, and metaphysical potency) – far more so than the rather more direct and ‘tangible’ Thor.

“Órlausnafullum ok hvarfsemi” with relation to “conservatorem nostrum” is a bit more figurative. Insofar as “conservatorem nostrum” renders with reasonable straightforwardness as “our protector” (as one would, quite likely, anticipate for the famously ‘Friend to Man’ Striker-Thunderer deific expression(s) such as Thor or Herakles / Hercules) – which is not entirely removed from how Wellendorf renders the effective ‘gist’ for the Old Norse line, viz. “the helpful Óðinn in whom we seek refuge”.

Yet there’s actually something rather more curious going on here, it should seem. Wellendorf observes the effective meanings for the utilized Old Norse terms to work out more along the lines of “‘‘full of forgiveness/help’ (órlausnafullr) and as one in whom you can seek refuge (hvarfsemi).” He goes on to add that (perhaps ironically): ” the ideas that lie behind the terms are of the same kind used in connection with the cult of saints or the Christian God. The lausn of órlausnarfullr is often used to translate Latin redemptio ‘redemption’ or remissio ‘forgiveness’, and lausnari is ‘the saviour’, while hvarfsemi recalls Latin words like adjutorium ‘help’, solatium ‘comfort’, and refugium ‘refuge’ without being an exact translation of any of them. These are all terms that are much more closely connected to the Christian faith than with Nordic paganism.”

Why’s that worthy of comment here? Because it would appear suspiciously like the translator’s intent was to basically connote Odin as being regarded as … well … a ‘false’ version of the figure a Christian Scandinavian would apparently more orthodoxly associate with the above-aforementioned suite of Old Norse terminology. That is to say – not only a ‘central figure’ for the (Roman … or at least ‘dressed up as Roman’) religion, but a ‘Savior’ [‘Soter’ to reference the Greek] one as well.

The former dimension – the ‘central figure’ connotation is quite interesting. Because what we have implied here is not only i) that aforementioned ‘Central & Most Important Deific’ notion , but also ii) a certain degree of seeming ‘approachability’ for Odin which would be rather at-odds with much of what people conventionally think of as applies His position in relation to the swathe of the Germanic people. It is usually Thor – that famed ‘Friend to Man’ – Who is thought of in the latter terms, being ‘approachable’ even by those not of noble station etc. We can only suggest that in order to sketch out the ‘parallel’ [if you like – ‘dark reflection’] for the deific at the centre of Christian religion, it was necessary to invoke such terms with relation to Odin. And would additionally make reference to the commentary of one Fredric W. Schlatter with more specifically pointed reference to the taboo complex that appears to have sprung up around what was connoted by ‘Conservator’ in (later) Latin usage – wherein yes, very much, it was narrowed in its focus to yon Christian God ; although in previous (i.e. pre-Christianization) usage, one would indeed encounter inscriptional / numismatic attestations for the epithet in-use for a variety of deities acting , for instance , as protector(s) / patron(s) for an emperor , the Roman armies, and so forth. But I digress.

The point is quite a simple one: that confluence for “Conservatorem nostrum” and “immundum spiritum” in application to the Roman deific of Hercules has lead to “Hercules” being identified via (mis)translation as “Odin” – because, as per usual, these sorts of “translations” are not entirely ‘literal’ , nor are they intended to be ‘theologically accurate’ with reference to the non-Christian religion(s) thusly entailed. And instead seek to marshal as effective ‘props’ of a sort, or ‘set-dressing’, the theonymics and associations of yore in the presentation of something more (or occasionally, seemingly almost entirely only) relevant to their own religious perceptions.

As I had once remarked with relation to one of the Scythian origin-mythologies presented by Herodotus:

“Legends do so often tell us more about the tellers than they do about the subjects ostensiably being mythologized.”

But let us move forward.

Within the aforementioned Christian literature of Saints one also finds a few more ‘conventional’ ‘Interpretatio’ equivalencies being made.

The ‘C’ recension for the Ceciliu Saga [AM 429 12°] has Jupiter being translated as Odin [“templi […] Iovi” => “Odens hof”, 289 n. 3; “Iobis Dei” => “Oþenn gud”, 287 30]; although the ‘A’ recension for the same saga instead renders the ‘Temple of Jupiter’ (‘Odens hof’ in the ‘C’ recension) as ‘hofi Þors” and with accompanying “blota Þor” for the incense offering to Jupiter . Confusingly, the Heilagra Manna Søgur has both the statement that “Er eigi Odénn gud” [287 30] as aforementioned, with this being specifically presented as the translation for “Jovis ergo nomen non est deus.” … and yet for its presentation as to the Temple two pages later, the “hofi Þors […] blota Þor” of the ‘A’ recension with the ‘C’ text for this section (featuring the aforementioned “Odens hof”) in footnote.

It is not, I think, to our interest to get too deeply into the relative iterations for the saga in question – for now it shall suffice to observe that the same element, one Temple which was 4 miles from Rome, which in order to gain admission to one had to carry out an offering of incense to Jupiter (as presented in the Latin text being translated, the Passio sanctae Caeciliae) … was interpreted and rendered two different ways by those charged with the transitional rendition for the narrative into Old Norse – a Temple of Odin and a Temple of Thor.

Clearly, the most logical way to approach this is to conjecture that each translator had basically taken a different approach, prioritizing different reasonings for their equivalencies attempted. The translator who went for Thor, assumedly, the rather overt ‘Thunder’ dimension, and/or the (fallacious, but prevalent) ‘Thursday’ style ‘Jupiter – Thor’ ‘interpretatio’ which was in familiar circulation in Christian circles as can be seen from the likes of Adam of Bremen and the aforementioned Archbishop Wulfstan II of York.

The translator who went (to my mind, of course, correctly) for Odin – well, the Kingship of the Gods (or / via Heaven) would be one consideration (and, indeed, this also shows up in the characterization observed in the course of that recension for the Icelandic Rune Poem which directly presents Odin as Jupiter – viz. ‘Asg[ar]dz iof[ur ok v]alhallar visi” – the Ruler/Prince of Asgard and Chief of Valhalla, immediately prior to “Jupi[ter] Oddviti” … ‘Imperator [Emperor] Jupiter’), however it is also – similarly – possible that they were relying upon a pervasive ‘interpretatio’ which had Odin as the equivalent to Jupiter.

Battista phrases the matter directly – viz. that these two recensions with their differing ‘translations’ for Jupiter “seem to represent two different traditions and therefore two alternative interpretations in the rendering of the Roman Jupiter.”

Meanwhile, in the Agǫtu Saga / Agathu Saga Meyiar we again encounter Jupiter as Odin – “et tu sis talis qualis deus tuus Iouis extitit”, per the Latin Passio Sanctae Agathae, becoming “Ver þu sem gud þinn Odinn, ” per the aforementioned Nordic text [Heilagra manna søgur I : Agathu Saga Meyiar 1 2 31-32]. (As a point of interest, Odin is therein encountered alongside Freyja as Venus [intriguingly, in Clemens Saga, we find Venus identified as both Freyja (146 34) and Frigg (viz. “Friggiar stiarna” as at 130 24 & 28), as Battista notes], and this Goddess phrased in terms of a ‘Wife’, ‘Uxor’ … albeit with a potentially rather pointed saliency to this intended by the spite-tongued saint. It would be tempting to contemplate that Odin was proffered by the translator for “Iouis” [i.e. Jovis] within this passage and this context precisely because Freyja as Wife was present once they’d rendered ‘Venus’ into ‘Freyja’ [‘Freyia’ as the text has it]; however this is not necessary to make sense of things, and is in any case purely speculative upon my behalf – although given that we elsewhere observe some … unexpected choices by these translators seemingly conditioned by contextual linkages entirely internal to the Nordic pre-Christian religious sphere, I do not think it ought be entirely ruled out.)

There is a further case to be observed within Vitus Saga – albeit with a complication. In one portion to it [that found at Heilagra manna søgur II : Vitus Saga 328 10-12], the Latin of Mombrius [II 635 17-19] , which is rendered “hactenus nescisti o fili deos esse inuictos Iouem et Herculem, Iunonem, Mineruam et Apollinem : quos diui principes et uniuersus excollit orbis romanus” : is presented as “Veizt þu eige odaudleg god vera Odenn, Þor ok Frey, Frigg ok Freyiu, er konungar gofga”. Which, as one can see, presents the “immortal / invincible” (“odaudleg” / “inuictos” – invictos, respectively) Gods, Iouem (Jove – Jupiter) and Hercules (Herculem), Juno (Iunonem), Minerva (Mineruam), and Apollo (Apollinem) of the Romans as being Odin (Odenn), Thor (Þor) and Frey, Frigg and Freyja (“Freyiu”), albeit with the perhaps interesting semantic shift between the “principes et uniuersus […] orbis Romanus” and “konungar” in terms of just whom was to have worshipped Them. In the former case, it is chiefs / ‘princes’, yes – but it is also “universus […] orbis Romanus”, all [the people of the] Roman World”. In the latter, it is the apparent (rhetorical, at least) preserve of Kings (“konungar”).

Now, the ‘complication’ emerges when one immediately observes that these two lists cannot be taken as strictly in the same order. Unless one wishes to present a sadly probably not entirely implausible to encounter somewhere out there in academia/tumblr radical re-reading of Frey as somehow being female. The order goes Jupiter / Odin, Hercules / Thor, Juno / Frey, Minerva / Frigg, Apollo / Freyja. Clearly, what has happened is the Norse translator has chosen to shift the masculine deity from the end of the list (i.e. Apollo, in Roman rendering – not that I necessarily agree with an equation of Frey with Apollo in general terms, I hasten to add) through to a perhaps more ‘logical’ (to their mind, at any rate) placement immediately following the other two masculine deities of the list, Jupiter & Hercules; and thus resulting in a shifting ‘backward’ in the order of Juno & Minerva to match up with Frigg & Freyja.

However, there’s another complication. Somewhat, at any rate. Insofar as the translator should evidently seem to have proven more of a “compositor” – as they appear to have cobbled in material from another treatment of St Vitus (that found in Henschenius – Acta Sanctorum Iunii: ex Latinis & Graecis aliarumque gentium antiquis monumentis, servata primigenia Scriptorum phrasi, Vol. II). And they’ve gone for a somewhat … different ‘Interpretatio’ therein, for those sections. Hence, what in the Latin at 1023a 9 13-15 is rendered: “Si sanus vis fleri, abrenuntia Jovi, Herculi, Junoni, Minervæ, Veſtæ, atque Apollini”, has become “Neit þu Þor ok Odne, Frigg ok Frey ok Freyiu” at 330 9-10 of the aforementioned Norse text. It is, as one can see, a … ‘truncated’ translation by this point – and I am leaving out other non-transposed portions of the Latin which surround this sentence which further show such. As, of course, did our Old Norse ‘translator’ in the first place.

Nevertheless, it would be tempting to infer that the equivalencies are thus, as they appear – Jupiter (Jovi) / Thor (Þor), Hercules (Herculi) / Odin (Odne), Juno (Junoni) / Frigg, … and then we run into rather a bit of trouble. Partially because, quite clearly, Minerva (Minervæ) is not Frey, but also because we have three female deifics in the Latin – Juno, Minerva, and Vesta – yet only two in the Old Norse, these being Frigg and Freyja (Freyiu). Clearly, the translator had gotten a bit ‘slap-dash’ by this point in their work – thus explaining the departure from both their previous seeming ‘interpretatio’ (which also happens to make … rather more logical sense) and the notion of ‘one-to-one’ renditions for the Roman deifics into Old Norse that came with it.

Although that said, I must concede that slightly earlier on in the work (329 40), “Þors hofs” appears to be standing in for “templum Jovis” (1022f 8 65), etc. Even as I scratch my head somewhat at i) where Vesta (Veſta – ibid. , line 69) appears to have disappeared off to in the Old Norse (this despite Vesta being given an ‘interpretatio’ to become Gefjon / Gefjun elsewhere – Battista highlights Nikolas Saga), and just where the translator has apparently plucked “Job” (330 5) from to have there in the Old Norse. Those … curious dimensions notwithstanding, the mention for the Temple of Jupiter does seem to present a ‘point of shift’ within the skein of ‘interpretatio’ within the translated Saga; whether due to a simple shift in the Latin texts being translated (from the iteration for the narrative of Vitus preserved via Mombrius to that which has come down to us via Henschenius), or something more pertinent upon the mind of the scribe.

It would be tempting to posit that what has happened is the scribe has encountered the bit involving the Temple of Jupiter aforementioned, and gone for that which was familiar to him. Hence, when confronted with the need to ‘culturally translate’ a large and civically important house of worship of a popular / integral deity that would be openly (rather than restrictedly) approachable … well, we have the relevant evidence from post-Christianization Icelandic (etc.) texts for Temples to Thor / Thor prominently and centrally in Temples as an evidently prominent perception. Or perhaps it was something to the nature of the offerings which had twingled a bell of familiarity – the cattle-sacrifices at the Thor(-centric) temple of Hofstaðir in Iceland spring instantly to mind. But it is not our purpose to get too heavily into this in our present work of text.

The final point I should make here before ploughing onwards concerns that scenario viz. Apollo which we had earlier countenanced. Insofar as, to quote Battista directly: “The god Freyr could in both cases be the equivalent of Apollo, but it is more probable that his name appears as a counterpart of Freyja, and for the sake of alliteration.”

We do not intend to delve in depth into the proper ‘interpretatio’ for Apollo amidst the Nordic/Germanic sphere (although this does become a pertinent consideration when we consider the exemplar of Widukind’s presentation for the Irminsul in the ‘Res Gestae Saxonicae’ below), but suffice to say we would agree with the point which Battista isn’t making – viz. Freyr not being proper ‘cognate’ / ‘co-expressive’ for Apollo, even as we may not go quite as far as her in suggesting that the scribe had ‘more probably’ only incorporated the name for ‘poetic’ purposes whilst effectively leaving Apollo unrepresented. It is, however, interesting to note – as Battista does in almost immediately her next sentence – that within the context of Clemens Saga, “Apollo” appears to go basically untranslated [Postola Sögur 127 33-34 ; we would presume 59 17-18 and 252 16 to be of the same nature] . She also notes the situation within Laurentius Saga for Freyr to be translation for Mars [Heilagra Manna Søgur I 425 2-14 : the “templum Martis” etc. of the original Latin text becoming “Freys hofs” in the Old Norse] – although considering the … seemingly rather wide array of Norse / Germanic deifics that wind up linked to Mars (yet also other Greco-Roman deifics as well in other texts) one might not, potentially, read too much into this.

Nevertheless, it is definitely a point well made that various of the incorporations & constructions which one parses within the Sagas of the Saints are very much there for reasons other than ‘strict’ theological accuracy – after all, much of the time, the purpose and intent for their incorporation is little more than ‘demonization’ (occasionally in directly literal terms) : perceived to be ‘false gods’ and just so much as ‘name-checked’ so as to pointedly underscore Whom the reader was not supposed to be positively contemplating. Yet let us move forward, in earnest.

Now, not all post-Christianization accounts are so axiomatically negative as to the Gods of the writers’ pagan forebears.

As an exemplar for this we might turn to the suite of commentary to be found within the ‘Historia de Gentibus Septentrionalibus’ (History of the Peoples of the North … Septentrionalibus referring to the constellation(s) of the Northern Bear(s) [the ‘Seven’] ‘turning’ [‘Trio-‘] about the Pole) of Olaus Magnus, which also makes the whole thing further complex in other fashions as we shall soon see.

Therein, at III 3, we hear of Odin “meaning ‘the strong one’, [who] holds sway over wars, affording men help against their foes. He was set at the right hand of Thor himself, and his reputation was of such splendour that all peoples cherished him exactly as if he were a light granted to the world, and there was no place on earth, as Saxo testifies, which did not submit to the might of his godhead.” [Foote translation] (“Alter Odhen, hoc est fortior, bellis præsidet, hominibus in hostes auxilia subministras, ipsi Thor a dextris collocatus : tanto opinionis fulgore clarus, vt ipsum non secus, quam datum mundo lumen omnes gentes amplecterentur, nec vllus orbis locus extaret ( Saxone testante) qui numinis eius potentiæ non pareret.”)

Magnus then goes on to add: “Odin is certainly sculptured in arms, as Mars was among the Romans by a similar superstition of the heathens, and he took for himself a day which has been dedicated to his memory for all time. ” [Foote translation] (“Odhen vero armatus sculpitur, vti Mars, simili gentilium superstitione apud Romanos: diemque obtinuit æterna memoria suo nomini consecratum.”)

We mention this latter detail (indeed, it is a rather prime reason for including the source all-up) due to the clear statement of Odin having the ‘Day of Mars’ within the context of the (Planetary-keyed) Seven Day Week rubric – elsewhere in the passage Thor and Frigg are linked to the Days of Jupiter and Venus, respectively.

Clearly, this is … rather out-of-keeping with how most of the Germanic sphere post-Christianization had tended to regard Odin within the aforementioned Days of the Week schema – one just has to look at ‘Wednesday’ to see the difficulty at play here. The situation is rendered all the more perplexing given Magnus’ evident knowledge of and direct referencing from from Saxo Grammaticus – given Magnus’ near complete lack of utilization for almost all of the actual ‘interpretatio’ equivalencies given within that source. Indeed, the closest we get to an actual mention for Pluto [other than the unfavourable descriptor in relation to Caligula and Vitellius at I 30] is a remark at III 4 which seems to attempt to correlate (if not necessarily directly co-equate) blood-sacrifice rites to Freyr [the alleged ‘Deus Sanguinis’ – ‘God of Blood’], offering-‘banquets’ [‘lectisemia’] and nocturnal [‘noctumi’] ‘games’ [‘ludi’] that were holy observances [‘feriarum’] of an annual variety … to the ancient Roman propitiations of Dis and Proserpine [Persephone] (“vti [uti?] aliquando Romas Diti, & Proserpinæ”).

And yet, there is something interesting and of use to us to be found therein – that being Magnus’ enthusiastic emphasis at the previous section [III 3, again] concerning the dual-contribution of ‘Mars’ to the Gothic race:

“Since in his lifetime he attained the honour of godhead throughout Europe because he yielded to none in the art of war, men believe this is why the Goths maintained (as Dio the Greek, Ablabius, and Jordanes testify) that Mars, whom antiquity regarded as the god of war, was the first-born among them, as the poet also states: ‘Father Gradivus, guide of Getic arms.’ ” [Foote translation] (“Et quia vivus tota Europa divinitatis titulum, quod nulli in arte militari cederet, assecutus fuisset: hinc evenisse creditur, vt Gothi ( sicut Dio Gracus, Ablabius, & Iordanes testantur) Martem, quem deum belli putavit antiquitas, apud se dicerent progenitum, prout etiam asserit Poeta: Gradiuumque patrem Gethicis qui prassidet armis. “)

Perhaps ironically, the salient detail which Magnus leads in with there – drawn from Saxo Grammaticus [III 4 13 1] – we have recently linked directly to the deed of Rudra (Dyaus Pitar) in His triumphant re-entry to the Heavens as attested at Katha Aranyaka II 100 and lead into via RV X 61 [c.f. Ait. Br. V 14] , forming the further portion to that narrative attested frequently viz. Rudra and His Wife in sad circumstances with relation to the Sacral Pyre and correlate with both Gesta Danorum I 7 3 1-2 and I suspect rather strongly a certain occurrence viz. Zeus (but more upon that some other time).

But to return to Magnus – Foote’s footnoting observes that “OM’s ‘progenitum’ is read as ‘primogenitum’, ‘first born’ (OM [Olaus Magnus] means that Mars was the divine ancestor of the Goths).” Something which he [Magnus] also has elsewhere [seemingly, XV 32 with its ‘Martialis ille populus’, for instance] – and with a rather interesting ‘echo’ of sorts to be found at V 31, speaking of what we might term ‘Amazons’ and observing these formidable warrior-women to be, per Virgil (himself referencing a long-standing Classical trope) “Qui Martem genuisse ferunt” (Who borne [begotten] by Mars were born) : with this situated in a context of the customs of (remarkable) ‘Gothic’ womenfolk by Magnus V 30-32.

Or, in other words – what we appear to have here is something quite pleasingly more complex than ‘merely’ the association of War with Odin and therefore the equation of Odin with Mars. Rather, this notion for Odin as the Divine Ancestor for the Gothic people(s) at once resonates with and replicates the Roman ‘founding narrative’ for themselves as the Sons of Mars, as well as serving to carry forth (somewhat, at least) that foundational role for Odin within the anthropogenic myth of the Nordic IE sphere (itself also resonant, as we have elucidated at length elsewhere, with the ‘Spear / Ash Race of Man’ [ref. Askr – Aescling / Æscling ] conceptry occurrent within the Classical legendaria in relation to the Sons of the Meliae … and the Melia(e) [‘Ash/Spear Nymph’] identified as Consort(s) to Apollo / Poseidon – Sky Father deific expressions, in other words, just as Odin is).

Similarly, that detailing pointedly incorporated viz. the Amazons as likewise descended of Mars and also correlate with the warrior-women of the Gothic sphere, we would take to be fundamentally resonant with the most obvious potential (‘endogenously Germanic’) mythic equivalent: namely, Odin’s Meyjar [ Óðins meyjar , per the Ásynja heiti of the Þulur] … the justly-famed Valkyries. ‘Meyjar’, whilst commonly translated as ‘Maids’, can also very viably render as ‘Daughters’ – and we have very good evidence viz. the Rudrakanyas / RudraGanikas of Rudra, the Daughters of Dionysus, and other such exemplars for confirmation as to this reading (I would also add the figure of ‘Apollo Amazonios’ – even despite the lack of an overt ‘Daughters of’ attestation in that particular instance; perhaps also the ‘Commander of the Nymphs’ – Nymphagetes / Nymphegetes – hailing for Apollo likewise, given the decidedly martial and/or otherwise scarily lethal bearing one not infrequently observes with various ‘Nymph’ clades within the mythoi, especially in the more archaic Anatolian where He originally hailed from and with particular emphasis for the potentially psychopompic role of the female figures so prominent within the Lycian inscriptional corpus).

We might also make reference to Magnus’ specification toward the end of III 3 that human sacrifice was carried out to the figure he identifies as ‘Mars’ (as the Foote translation puts it : “The Goths always sought to appease him with the harshest rites, that is to say with the death of their prisoners, supposing that the presider over wars was more fitly appeased with human blood. In return they learnt from him the whole business of waging war to such perfection that, in conquering the most powerful empires of Europe and Asia, they gained for themselves the highest accolade for valour.” – Quem Gothi semper asperrima placavere cultura, morte scilicet captivorum, opinantes bellorum prasidem aptius humano cruore placari, a quo vicissim omnem belligerandi industriam adeo perfecte didicerunt, vt devictis Europæ, & Asiæ potentissimis imperiis, summum fortitudinis gradum reportarint.”).

Why so? Because in Tacitus we encounter : “Deorum maxime Mercurium colunt, cui certis diebus humanis quoque hostiis litare fas habent. Herculem ac Martem concessis animalibus placant. […] lucos ac nemora consecrant deorum[…]” [Germania, IX 1, 3]

And, further in: “[…] nominis eiusdemque sanguinis populi legationibus coeunt caesoque publice homine celebrant barbari ritus horrenda primordia. […] eoque omnis superstitio respicit, tamquam inde initia gentis, ibi regnator omnium deus, cetera subiecta atque parentia. adicit auctoritatem fortuna Semnonum: centum pagis habitant, magnoque corpore efficitur ut se Sueborum caput credant.” [Germania, XXXIX 2-3, 5]

That is to say: “They worship Mercury as greatest among the gods, he whom they hold it right to propitiate on certain days with human sacrifice. Hercules and Mars they placate with whatever animal life is permissible. […] they consecrate woods and groves [to their Gods]” [Kline translation, IX 1, 3]

And, as applies the latter passage: “[…] all those of the same names and blood gather in delegations at the sacred grove, and publicly offer up a human life, as a dreadful beginning to their barbarous rites. […] the whole superstition derives from this, that here the race arose, here dwells the god of all; all else obeys and is submissive. The Semnones’ wealth adds to this authority: they possess a hundred cantons, a number whose size leads them to believe themselves the leaders of the Suebi.” [Kline translation, XXXIX 2-3, 5]

Phrased more directly – per Tacitus, we have the deity he appears to have identified as what we would call ‘Odin’ being propitiated in the manner which would seem to fit with what Magnus presents … but with the rather clear dysjunction of manifest incompatibility between the worship-style for the Germanic deific identified via the former as ‘Mars’ and what Magnus tells us. Presumably because, notwithstanding the prospect for one or both sources to have been slightly (or more than slightly) in error as to detailing (one’s ‘remote’ from the religion in question via distance – the other via the distance of time, and Christianization) , these aren’t the same deity being referred to as ‘Mars’ in each instance. As we should probably anticipate, given the near millennium-and-a-half occurrent between them (the writers that is).

Nevertheless, it is rather remarkable just how closely concordant the two accounts are (albeit possible that Magnus has deliberately modelled detailing within his own account in order to ‘match’ that found within Tacitus). In both cases – the deity is foundational to the people in question [an ‘All-Father’, you might say; He is quite literally ‘central’ thereto], propitiated via human sacrifice, and would appear to have favoured His chosen people with a fittingly expansive swathe of conquest in fairly direct result. This is not something one most directly anticipates of Mercury – with no disrespect at all intended to that intelligent and ingenious deity (nor planet), it is the “Regnator Omnium Deus”, the God Who is Ruler of All [‘Ishvara’] , ” cetera subiecta atque parentia” , to Whom all others are subjects and subject to.

[And, indeed, that last suite of phrasing – ‘Regnator Omnium Deus, Cetera Subiecta Atque Parentia’ – should serve to instantly remind one of that presentation within the Gylfaginning [XX]: “”Óðinn er æðstr ok elztr ásanna. Hann ræðr öllum hlutum, ok svá sem önnur goðin eru máttug, þá þjóna honum öll svá sem börn föður” ; rendered by Brodeur as “Odin is highest and eldest of the Æsir: He rules all things, and mighty as are the other Gods, They all serve Him as children obey a Father.”]

This, therefore, plausibly explains the ‘misapprehension’ and ‘misidentification’ for Odin as ‘Mercury’ / ‘Hermes’ within the ‘Interpretatio’ schema of Tacitus. In an assumed manner similar to how we got that notorious ‘tribe’, the “Harii” (i.e. ‘The Warriors’ – see Germania 43 6) – assumedly because a straightforward Germanic response was contextually misinterpreted via a Latinate interlocutor [i.e. “Who/What are you?” “We’re Warriors” (‘Hari’ – ref. PG *Harja(z) etc.) “…They say they’re of a tribe called the ‘Harii'”] , somebody probably asked (via intermediary, one anticipates) the Germanic source to name their most powerful God … and got a response along the lines of Proto-Germanic *Ermunaz (Pokorny has *Ermana- / *Irmino ), quite directly ‘The Great’ or ‘The Powerful’.

[The assumed Proto-Indo-Europrean root for which being, again per Pokorny, *er-³ (you’ll also see the relevant root as “*h₃er-” if we go by the likes of Rix) – with a meaning-field he presents as “to move *stir, animate, fight, struggle, rise; to spring up, be born”; we would customarily mention Sanskrit ‘Rti” ( ऋति – ‘motion’, ‘assault’, ‘conflict’, ‘struggle’) as an example of another derivation – and also Ancient Greek ὄρος (‘Oros’ – Mountain) as another. Whilst unrelated, Sanskrit ‘Ugra’ (उग्र) – a term for ‘fury’ and ‘savagery’, intimidation etc., as well as being a prominent Roudran theonymic also springs to mind – as it likewise carries a strong sense of power and ‘stirred up’ fury (indeed, it’s even utilized for a ‘Furor Poeticus’ impartment in RV X 125 5), is an epithet and associated quality for the cognate deific to Odin, and comes from a PIE root which, likewise, refers to ‘enlargement’ or ‘increase’ : Pokorny has *au̯eg- / *u̯ōg- / *aug- / *ug- , Mayrhofer, Rix etc. have *h₂eu̯g- ; I digress. ]

Said Proto-Germanic term eventually turns into Odin’s Old Norse hailing of Jǫrmunr [Þul Óðins 8] and the frequently familiar Saxon ‘Irmin’ [whence ‘Irminsul’, etc.]. As well as, per Pokorny, underpinning what’s reported by Tacitus [II 3] as the ethnonym ‘Herminones’.

You can see how closely this term – indeed, theonym – for ‘Great God’ resembles a certain Ancient Greek deific’s prominent name (i.e. ‘Hermes’) at the archaic Proto-Germanic level (i.e. much closer to what would have been being spoken around the time of Tacitus’ inquiries).

Indeed, one not need delve into the realms of modern Indo-European linguistics to see the potential for ‘confusion in motion’. The ‘Res Gestae Saxonicae’ of Widukind (himself of that origin, writing in the mid-late 900s AD and well after the events in question – occurring in 531 AD, so Bachrach’s footnoting informs me) attests the following:

“Mane autem facto ad orientalem portam ponunt aquilam, aramque victoriae construentes secundum errorem paternum sacra sua propria veneratione venerati sunt: nomine Martem, effigie columpnarum imitantes Herculem, loco Solem, quem Graeci appellant Apollinem. Ex hoc apparet aestimationem illorum utcumque probabilem, qui Saxones originem duxisse putant de Graecis, quia Hirmin vel Hermis Graece Mars dicitur; quo vocabulo ad laudem vel ad vituperationem usque hodie etiam ignorantes utimur.” [I, 12]

Which, in the recent Bachrach translation:

“When morning came, the Saxons placed an eagle before the eastern gate, and constructed an altar of victory following the error of their fathers [i.e. the ancestral pre-Christian Germanic religion]. They worshipped their divinities in their own manner. In worshipping one of them, called Mars, they imitate Hercules with an image of columns. They worship this deity in the place of the Sun, whom the Greeks called Apollo. From this, it seems likely that those, who think that the Saxons had their origin among the Greeks, have a point because the one whom we call Mars, is called Hirmin or Hermis in Greek. We use that word up to the present day both to praise and to condemn, although we do not know what it really means.” [I, 12]

Indeed, it is difficult to fault Widukind’s statement [per the translation] that the relevant term is one that his people [post-Christianization] seemingly use “although we do not know what it really means”.

Clearly, he is in error when he asserts that Mars is somehow called “Hirmin” or “Hermis” in Ancient Greek. This is absolutely not the case, as anyone knows (per literal ‘interpretatio’, Mars works out as Ares, and Hermes as Mercury) – and can only have come about due to an evidently misaligned conflation between the actual Saxon word, a la ‘Irmin’ (or ‘Hirmin’ perhaps), and the well-known Hellenic theonymic (with potential additional influence from the Herms [ ἕρμᾰ / ἕρμᾰτᾰ – ‘herma’ / ‘hermata’] of that culture also as applies raised constructions of a religious utilization) … a situation which one can evidently observe to quite plausibly have similarly ensnared the less-familiar-with-the-actual-Germanic-sphere Tacitus.

Potentially, on the part of Widukind, with an additional intent to ‘synchronize’ the evidently preferred (and understood) situation for this ‘Irmin’ as a war deity (with certain other pertinent characteristics, as we shall soon discover, that are quite distinctively His and not best fitting to Hermes or Mercury even as they do have Classical co-expression … elsewhere) and the ‘accepted wisdom’ in some post-Christianization perspectives which insistently cast Odin (Irmin) as Mercury instead.

Whilst also utilizing the above to lend at least contemplative supporting to his earlier reference to, to quote the Bachrach translation: “Regarding the origin of the Saxon people […] Others believe, as I heard someone saying when I was a youth, the Saxons descended from the Greeks. They say the Saxons were survivors of the Macedonian army that followed Alexander the Great, and was dispersed all over the world following his premature death.” [I 2] (De origine gentis Saxonice […] aliis autem aestimantibus, ut ipse adolescentulus audivi quendam predicantem, de Graecis, quia ipsi dicerent Saxones reliquias fuisse Macedonici exercitus, qui secutus Magnum Alexandrum inmatura morte ipsius per totum orbem sit dispersus.”)

This essential underlying conceit enables us to explicate much about what’s going on in that aforementioned passage [I 12] wherein Irmin (Odin) is connected not only to ‘Mars’ but also to these other Greek deifics … and with Hercules (Herakles) also, as applies the Pillar-raising, invoked.

Yet let’s return to the actual passage upon the Irminsul itself [I 20].

To ‘unpack’ it somewhat … the deific, evidently propitiated in thanks for military victory [given the circumstances / context, as attested immediately prior to and post the portion we’ve chosen to quote above] and identified via ‘Interpretatio Romana’ with Mars by Widukind for similar reasoning, is also apparently Solar in some dimension, and is to be embodied within a ‘Column’. I shall (forcibly) restrain myself from delving too heavily into all of this – but suffice to say these are well in accordance with that which we would anticipate for the Sky Father deific complex. We have good cognate occurrences with relation to the ‘column’ element, for instance, from the Hindusphere for Rudra, as we have detailed at some length elsewhere – and can add Classical comparanda to this also (again, as we have already done in prior works), most prominently around Dionysus / Liber, particularly as co-identified with Hades (per Heraclitus upon the subject with regard to the religious customs of his native Ephesus) and a ‘raving’ context. (The ‘imitation of Hercules’ component refers to the erection for such a pillar – c.f. Strabo’s explication for Alexander the Great’s efforts in a rather similar regard (” μιμούμενος τὸν Ἡρακλέα ” – ‘imitation of Herakles’) in India as at III 5 5 of his ‘Geography’, corroborated via the towering dimensions ascribed for the ‘altars’ constructed which are given in Diodorus Siculus [XVII 95 1]; and note, once again, that it’s Alexander and Alexander’s army that is involved here – c.f. Widukind’s apparent countenancing for this as being the Saxons’ actual ancestral saliency within the Classical sphere(s) … )

However, there’s one element which I do think deserves a bit more ‘drawing out’ – and that’s the point Widukind makes for the Saxon operation in question featuring this Irmin deific “loco Solem, quem Graeci appellant Apollinem”, that is to say ‘in the place [loco] of the Sun [Solem], Whom the Greeks call Apollo.’ Grimm approaches the whole thing a bit off-kilter [he has a rather …. bemusing blind-spot when it comes to the comparative theology and thus ‘Interpretatio’ rubrics for Odin], misinterpreting (if the Stallybrass translation is accurate) the Column element as connoting Hercules itself rather than the Saxons acting in emulation of Hercules by putting one up for triumph, and then goes on to have the relevant clause from ‘loco Solem’ as “the place where he was set up the Sun or Apollo” .

Grimm’s rationale for that latter detail appears to be to assert that “Apollo is brought in by the monk, because the altar was built ad orientalem portam,” : that is to say , at the eastern gate.

Except here’s the thing. Apollo, a deific that is significantly cognate with Rudra (and Rudra with Odin), is very much well-attested as being found i) in ‘Pillar’ (aniconic) ’embodiment’, and in relation to this, ii) at or about the gates / entryways to a place. This is Apollo Agyieus / Aguieus (amidst … a number of other immediately pertinent theonymics and epithets which we might care to mention – including, upon a slightly different note, those pertaining to Apollo’s role in relation to ‘wanderers’ … as well as, for that matter, the ‘Apollo Patroios’ hailed as the Father of the Ionian people ).

Apollo also exhibited quite the martial saliency for the Greeks as well – and while I initially had a rather more extensive examination for this in light of Odin comparanda included herein, I have chosen to excise that for future presentation on a more standalone basis. Not least because that shall enable me to work in more Iliad quotes.

We shall content ourselves, for the mean-time, with this verse of Limenios’ Paian & Prosodion to Apollo, from the Delphic hymnaic corpus via way of illustration.

The concluding lines [42-45] read:

“[…] come kindly
to the victorious servants of Bakchos’s,
increase the spear-crowned power of the Romans,
prosperous with victory, through ageless strength.”
[Massimo rendition]

And, further, with the observation that there existed an archaic custom midst the Greeks for the performance of paeans by an army – carried out immediately prior to combat in order to ask for Victory (and also, often, to intimidate the foe), with these often being (understandably) dedicated to Ares [often referred to as Enyalius – Ἐνυάλιος ]; and also, correspondingly, undertaken following the battle, in thanks for the Victory and dedicated to Apollo. There are various examples for this which might be drawn upon to illustrate – however we’ll just go for the succinct attestation for exactly this as given at I 50 5 b of the Scholiast commentary upon Thucydides.

So, as applies what Widukind has put in front of his reader viz. a Saxon military triumph (one wherein they would appear to have suffered at most only inconsequential losses of their own if we take ‘incruentus’ at reasonably face value) – it should make eminent sense (especially given Widukind’s insistent efforts at seeking to hypothesize a Hellenic ethnogenesis for the Saxons, as we have seen) for something which was a prominently and recurrently attested custom for the Ancient Greeks to be exactly what the rather Classically-literate Widukind had intended to draw overt parallels with at this point within his narrative.

The ‘Solar’ saliency for the situation should also appear to track rather well with both the detailing presented within Saxo Grammaticus for Odin with quite the celestial lustre of luminosity , and my own suite of observances viz. the Eye of the Sky Father and Odin’s all-seeing position at Hlidskjalf. But more upon that some other time.

Now, the obvious question having parsed through all of that is … where does it leave us?

I’d earlier made a point of the fact that the ‘Interpretatio’ schemas of yore had tended to suffer rather significantly from ‘distance’ issues. Tacitus was geographically (and culturally, as well as linguistically) remote from his subjects – he relied upon a decidedly incomplete informational picture. The Post-Christianization sources we’ve drawn from did not have quite these issues – they were geographically propinquate to the Germanic sphere (for reasons that ought prove readily apparent), even if they were not quite so to the Classical spheres they sought to draw from (hence, one presumes, part of the reason for such … eyebrow-raising occurrences as Athens, the City of Athena, becoming “Odin’s Borg” ), yet in terms of their actual religious understanding they could prove quite distant indeed; and in some cases, they suffered from the distancing of ‘time’, as well, into the bargain.

So, as I say – where does that leave us?

After all, most of us are to varying extents geographically and/or linguistically ‘distant’ from the realm(s) in question (whether Nordic/Germanic or Greco-Roman), and we are also a seriously significant swathe of chronological departure away from these when they were truly ‘living’ religions (a thousand years, perhaps, if not more, for much of the Germanic sphere – and that and half that again, and often then some into the bargain, viz. the Classical).

Yet, oddly enough, we’re actually placed far better today than we have been at any point since these were living religions (and arguably even then … ) to make a decent go of ‘interpretatio’ efforts and comparative Indo-European theology.

The reasoning for this rather bold contention being twofold:

First, and most obviously, because the tools and materials we’re able to bring to bear upon the challenge now are qualitatively different (in various cases, better) than those which the commentators of a thousand years, two thousand years afore could draw upon.

It’s true that we also have larger gaps than they did, in terms of living traditions and entire swathes of texts and understandings that have basically faded off into disappearance or fragmentary hardly-preservation.

Yet consider it this way – . Tacitus, whilst he did have access to the living literary culture of Rome (and its adjacent Mediterranean spheres), most certainly did not have access to Germanic texts ‘in their own words’. We do. Even though they’re a fraction of the materials which would have gone into the ‘living religion’ in its closing era (and with … exponentially escalatingly less than that the further back you go), we’re already a helluvalot further ahead in that specific regard. Not least because, unlike Tacitus, we can access reasonable-grade translations, lexicons, and so forth. Thus hopefully minimizing the chances for another “Harii” type misinterpretation. Even where we’re having to deal with texts somewhat … editorialized by Sturluson etc. (or myths twisted wholesale by Saxo Grammaticus) – we’re still in a better position than some of the second-, third-, fifth- hand inferency which, via necessity, informed some of the preceding generations of commentators (remember Adam of Bremen and his worrisome detailings as to Sweden’s eastern frontier being a land of cyclopes, dog-headed people, and other latter-day Herodotean Steppe stylings?) .

And speaking of those linguistic elements – whilst linguistics is no substitute for theology, it is still a vitally contributing component thereto, particularly when we’re operating upon a comparative basis. The Romans knew this – you just have to take a look through Varro & Aulus Gellius to see them making practicable (and pretty decent!) utilization for the linguistics they had available to them to probe and support then-faded theological understandings .

We’re able to do much the same thing – for instance, where it enables us instantly to observe that Widukind’s “Hirmin” / “Hermis” comment in alleged relation to Mars is plausibly something quite different than, as men closer to his time might have felt it, Ancient Greek “Hermes”. And thus avoid that entire (still with us) imbroglio resultant from Tacitus’ likely similar (mis)apprehension.

Yet there is one more vital ‘innovation’ that we can point to as rendering our efforts fundamentally distinct (and distinctive) from that which had gone before.

It is quite simple.

We are better positioned to engage in accurate comparative Indo-European theology … because we are actually (and intentionally) engaging in comparative Indo-European theology.

It is difficult to over-state the importance of this – or how distinguishing it is from the various earlier clades of contributors that we had been referencing (‘namechecking’ in more than one sense, it would appear) earlier.

Contrary to what you might be thinking, this isn’t simply a matter of being actually interested in the religions in question and believing them to have worth and merit … rather than, as various of those Christian scholars of yore had done, approaching the whole thing as effectively just an exercise in ensuring that their fellow Germanics ‘get’ that when the propaganda story says the Gods are ‘fake’, it doesn’t just mean the Roman ones but the Nordic/Germanic ones, too (as accomplished by slapping some familiar-sounding names over a foreign story from hundreds of years and thousands of miles distant origins). Or, as Saxo Grammaticus was doing – sketching out a suitably epic history for his own (Christianized) people (and somewhat literally ‘redefining’ them in the process) whilst getting in a fusillade of shots at both the pre-Christian religion of his forebears and the Swedes (and, especially, both at once) in the process.

Instead, it’s something rather more complex.

Consider it this way – an ‘Interpretatio Romana’ is, effectively, an exercise in identifying Roman correlates for non-Roman deifics. It has the Roman pantheonic perspective as its effective baseline and bedrock. That’s its ‘perceptional filter’ and its organizing rubric.

And that’s … not an inherently bad thing, necessarily – except for the slight problem that the Romans (as with every Indo-European people, it must be said) had a mythos, a theology, which was pretty ‘individuated’ [I don’t quite want to say ‘divergent’ due to the colouration which that might bring to proceedings] relative to various other IE groups’.

And therefore which can cause some potentially rather significant (occlusionary) difficulties when it’s incautiously utilized (especially in a more two-dimensional / ‘theme park version’ format) as the cognitive-theological default against which all others are to become compared as a result.

You see this most readily with the ongoing shenanigans which partially inspired this piece – vis-à-vis Thor, Jupiter, and the relevant Striker/Thunderer and Sky Father deific complexes, respectively.

While there are attestations for Hercules wielding a Thunderbolt [c.f. Seneca’s Hercules Oetaeus 1989-1996] (and being, well, an Olympian – post-Apotheosis, you see) and therefore rather more like what people tend to expect for the Striker/Thunderer deific [i.e. Thor, Indra, you get the idea … ] … this isn’t part of the ‘mental furniture’ for most people when thinking about the Roman (or, for that matter, broader Classical) mythos. Which instead goes “Wields Thunder … Must be Jupiter” … and then goes to edit Wikipedia (or, I suppose, an ecclesiastical commentary via candlelight) to assert for anyone and everyone just tipping their toes into the field that the Greek & Roman “equivalents” for, say, Indra are somehow Zeus [Pater] & Jupiter.

Or, to utilize a potentially more intriguing exemplar – the fact of the Classical mythoi having prominent Male Solar & Female Lunar deific tendencies … in rather stark contrast to much (if not most) of the rest of the Indo-European religious spectrum and particularly the oldest / most conservative traditions upon this matter. Something which has exhibited quite the ‘distortionary’ impact upon not just the general perception as to how things are allegedly “supposed to be” when it comes to the Sun and Moon in theological occurrence … but with tangibly specific manifestations also as applies how we think about one deific in particular even outside of the Roman sphere, effectively characterizable as “retroactive overwriting of the actual archaic perceptions due to insistent perceptional bias” – but more upon this some other time (it’s Hekate in case you were wondering).

Where I’m going with all of this is that there’s been a rather foundational misapprehension as to just what the ‘Interpretatio Romana’ approach actually is.

It’s NOT – strictly speaking – a hard-baked statement of direct and correct theological co-equivalence for any given pair of Roman and non-Roman deific(s). What it IS is an effort at managing to ‘understand’ or ‘conceptualize’ a given non-Roman deific within the Roman theological space by having it adopt the identifying signifiers of a deific already encountered therein. It’s a ‘masking’.

And sometimes, that’s basically all that’s needed to have a fairly sensible, useful ‘interpretatio’ for a figure. The Greek Dionysus is quite clearly the Roman Liber – same actual deity underpinning each of these expressions. It’s just that in ‘Interpretatio Romana’ terms – the Romans would not tolerate the more allegedly ‘disorderly’ dynamics to the Greek style of ‘Bacchanalia’ and so moved to forcibly clamp down upon things (in the early 2nd century BC, 186 BC) and fostered a more ‘properly Roman’ reconfiguration as a result. Another instance would be Mars and Ares – reasonably viewable as the same underlying deific (for the sake of argument / illustrative exemplar, at least) … and yet ‘When In Rome’, the God otherwise known as “Ares” should appear to ‘behave Himself’ in a somewhat more ‘orderly’ (dare we say – ‘Roman’) manner.

If these are ‘Maskings’, then, then it is simply a God ‘Masking’ as Him (or Her) Self – just with ‘local visage.’

Where things are perhaps a bit more ‘indirect’, it might feasibly be viewed as a case of the Romans “making sense of the unfamiliar/foreign in terms familiar to them”.

Yet on other occasions, it is clear something ‘different’ is happening. Augustine, in his ‘De Consensu Evangelistarum Libri Quator’ [XXII 30] notes two ‘Interpretatio Romana’ for the Jewish God – “Alii dicunt: Saturnus est, credo propter sabbati sanctificationem, quia isti eum diem Saturno tribuerunt. Varro autem ipsorum quo doctiorem apud se neminem inveniunt, Deum Iudaeorum Iovem […]”

That is to say – “Some say that He is Saturn. I fancy the reason of that is found in the sanctification of the Sabbath; for those men assign that day to Saturn. But their own Varro, than whom they can point to no man of greater learning among them, thought that the God of the Jews was Jupiter, […]” [Rev. Salmond translation]

Augustine then goes on to point out the obvious and manifest ridicularity for the proposition from within the Romans’ own theology & mythology itself – and with this, I would have to agree. Yet I do not truly think that everybody advocating for the identification of the Jewish God with either Saturn or Jupiter had pushed for such through purely ‘theological’ motivation. The ‘interpretatio’ schema was a way of ‘reading in’ not only Gods and customs, beliefs … but also the people who bore and practiced them. Making them ‘Romans’ – or, at least, an ‘understandable’, somewhat ‘known quantity’ for the Romans and “not so different after all” in alleged practice. Hence, regardless of whether it was felt by an individual that there was much merit to an ‘Interpretatio’ for the Jewish God as Jupiter (or Saturn, for that matter) … it was a useful tool with which to seek to enmesh the Jewish subjects of Rome within the Empire. At least – from the perspective of the Romans. Jews often appear to have been pretty … unimpressed at the whole thing. Occasionally violently so.

This, then, is why I had felt it useful to more fulsomely explore various of these ‘Interpretatio Germanica’ (mis)understandings … both to demonstrate that there isn’t just one “x Germanic deific = y Roman deific” schema in historic occurrence, and also just how fraught these approaches often evidently were in practice.

Because all of a sudden, the ‘firmness’ of such an insistently regurgitated ‘identification’ starts to look a fair bit more shaky when i) it turns out that (for instance) there’s not just one Germanic deity identified as, say, “Mars”, but several … potentially within the course of a single source; ii) it likewise becomes apparent that the effective underpinning isn’t a genuinely in-depth comparative theological analysis – but rather “war deity”, and that’s it. With the obvious ‘complication’ that, of course, for the Indo-Europeans (and the Germanics especially), seemingly almost every deity is / can be a War Deity … but I am rambling, somewhat, towards a point no doubt already well-made several paragraphs (and/or pages) earlier.

The simple truth is that whilst various ‘Interpretatio Romana’ efforts may or may not work for given deifics or circumstances – it is on a very much a ‘bilateral’ basis [in fact, more properly speaking, it’s more usually “unilateral” ] .

As I had been endeavouring to arcen towards earlier – this is not (usually) our approach.

That is – we do not seek to simply identify this Germanic deific with that Roman deific (or vice versa) and call it a day.

We instead seek to understand deities – where ‘Interpretatio’ undertakings are called for (and this is not always – it is not our intention to seek to assert that deifics are only approachable through a complex and multi-dimensional rubric of comparanda) – through this much more expansive approach. [A good exemplar for which being the seeing how much our perspective changes when we view Odin in relation to the broader Indo-European Sky Father deific complex as also informed by Rudra – and, for that matter, the other canonical Classical ‘Sky Father’ deific ‘refractions’ including Hades etc. … rather than just via a more strictly limited concordancy between Odin and Jupiter / Zeus.]

Which does not, of course, entail the axiomatic rejection of all previous (and less ‘multi-faceted’) efforts – indeed, we can (and do) actively draw from same.

Rather, it necessitates situating these within their proper and appropriate context; and being keenly aware for certain of the inherent ‘limitations’ to such perspectives as advanced through same.

Due to the sheer cultural currency and attendant weighting which the Romans (and Greeks) have within the modern Western (and, indeed, pre-modern Western) psyche – it would be somewhat difficult to make the case for this only by considering the ‘Interpretatio Romana’ angle itself. Hence, we turned from ‘outside-in’ – and through a somewhat in-depth examination for the ‘Interpretatio Germanica’ efforts voluminously aforementioned, we have sought to demonstrate these sorts of limitations in a manner which one hopes should lead to their more readily being considered as applies elsewhere also.

Neither to reject the past, nor be mislead by it – but, rather, the better to understand it in order to inform our present and thence guide our future.

A remark, I am sure, of a most pervasive (and multifarious) potential application.

In All Indo-European Spheres.

As it should be.