Cross and Scepter (31 page)

Corresponding to the composition and import of romantic and chivalrous literature and the more elite character of the court and the aristocracy, there is evidence as well of new norms and patterns of behavior in courtly circles. The clearest example of this is
The King's Mirror.
In it, for example, we find the Father urging the Son to address the king and great men in the plural and himself in the singular, a custom that was introduced at this time. The use of different pronouns for addressing different categories of people—or at least the attempt to establish such a custom—clearly signals a heightened awareness of hierarchy. An even greater change was the rule that a man should take off his cloak when appearing before the king. The Son finds this ridiculous, pointing out that if anyone did this among ordinary people, he would be considered a fool. He demands an explanation, and the Father gives three. One is purely practical and thus less interesting from our point of view: a cloak can conceal a weapon intended to be used against the king. Of the two remaining examples, the first has to do with hierarchy: taking off one's cloak means that one is willing to serve. The second—which in fact comes first in the author's presentation—is simply that this is done by good and noble people, and that one must follow their example if one wishes to be included in fashionable society, an answer that is also to be found in more recent discussions on such matters. It tells us that dress, custom, manners, etc., serve as symbols that distinguish the elite from ordinary people. The more pronounced this distinction, the greater the class difference.

The King's Mirror
also discusses fashions in dress, hair, and beard styles. The Father refers to German customs and clearly implies that fashions change and that it is important to keep abreast of them—although he finds it difficult to imagine that there will ever be a fashion more suitable than that of the present day. The importance of fashion is further demonstrated by a later source. In his great statute of 1308, issued in a moment of crisis and intended to secure the king full control over his men, King Håkon V strictly forbids anyone to introduce new fashions into the kingdom, threatening his own men with the loss of their aristocratic rank and his own friendship if they should do so. It is an important royal prerogative to be the trendsetter in such matters, and the king's men show their loyalty by following him. In a similar way, fashion serves to distinguish the king and his men from the rest of the population.

The use of fashion to set them apart evidently aims at creating a stronger sense of solidarity between the king's men and is in keeping with the king's aim of putting an end to internal conflicts. Some further rules more directly serve this purpose. The organization of the king's retainers (the
hird
) consists of different ranks, and it is important for each man to know his own place in the system. When these men are in the king's company, they should arrange themselves so that there is an equal number on each side of him. They have their fixed seats at the table, two together, and these two should also wash their hands together before the meal. They should walk to the table in the same order as their seats. At the table they should engage in quiet conversation, keeping their attention always directed towards the king, in case
he should require some service from them. And they should show moderation in drinking, taking care not to get drunk. This latter admonition is particularly significant. Although warnings against excessive drinking can be found long before the examples in
The King's Mirror
, drinking parties were an essential part of the culture of traditional kingship. They served to put the king and his men on equal ground of a sort, although at the same time they were competitive. These were the occasions when a man had to show how much he was able to drink while keeping his wits about him so that he could still tell a good story or respond to a verbal challenge, and it was here that the deeds of the participants and other men were discussed and evaluated.

Compared to the manners and etiquette at the great courts of the seventeenth century, the rules in the
Mirror
were quite simple, but they had essentially the same aim, to make obedient royal servants out of unruly and quarrelsome warriors. Thus, through a number of more or less complicated rules of etiquette and behavior, the contemporary Norwegian monarchy sought to unite the aristocracy under its leadership, teaching them respect for the king and urging them to mutual solidarity. This aim was achieved in part by the rules, but also through the emphasis placed on the difference between the king's retainers and the population in general.

The King's Mirror
gives a glimpse of how exactly these rules were formulated and transmitted to the members of the court. The chivalrous literature that was introduced during the same period, and which gives evidence of a new literary taste, also provides examples of behavior that accords with the same rules and attitudes. This can be illustrated by a story from
Strengleikar,
the song of Gujamar. Gujamar is a noble and courteous young man, strikingly handsome and such a brave and skillful knight that he defeats all others. However, he lacks one quality; he is unable to love a woman. One day he goes hunting and shoots a white hind.
The animal is wounded, but the arrow flies back and hits Gujamar in the thigh. Before she dies, the hind tells him that she has avenged her death by giving him a deadly wound that can only be healed by a woman. Severely injured, Gujamar walks away and at length sees a beautiful ship with a lavishly decorated bed on board. Tired from walking, he lies down on the bed and is suddenly transported to a strange country and brought before its king, who is old but has an incredibly beautiful wife whom he jealously guards against all other men. “For old men who have no appetite for women and want what they cannot do and nature denies them, they hate and envy those who are young.” Gujamar and the young woman fall in love and start a relationship. The jealous husband learns about it, Gujamar has to flee, and only after a much danger and suffering do the two lovers become united.

This is a kind of fairytale, similar in many ways to the folktales collected by the brothers Grimm and others in the nineteenth century, but it also contains reflections on the nature of love. The two lovers belong to each other as they are the best man and the best woman. Their fates are similar, but also different: the man rejects love because he finds no one who is worthy, while the woman rejects love because she has been given to an unworthy husband. Gujamar's wound is apparently his punishment for killing the hind—it is no coincidence that she is a female animal—but in reality love's revenge. The hind is also described in a way that makes it a symbol of love. Its white color as well as the fact that it has only one horn points to a similarity with the unicorn, the symbol of pure and innocent love. Thus, Gujamar is punished on account of his contempt for love, a punishment that is both physical and spiritual, but which also makes him a better and nobler human being. His perfection in the beginning of the story turns out to be an illusion, for he lacks love. Only the experience of love can make him perfect and at the same time give meaning to his warrior skills; he must defeat an enemy and conquer his castle to
be united with his beloved. Finally, the mysterious ship that leads to the meeting between the two lovers shows that the whole order of the world serves love, which is the strongest force in the world.

It would be difficult to imagine two forms of literature more different than this fairytale and the classical saga with its terse, matter-of-fact representations of wars and conflicts between men ruled by a combination of honor and interest. Courtly culture was indeed a radically new phenomenon, and it had a close connection with the new monarchy. To some extent it may be regarded as a kind of “cultural rearmament” directed by the king. This is explicitly mentioned in some of the prefaces, e.g., that of the
Strengleikar
. There the translator points to the importance of reading the stories of the past so as to learn virtues and the fear of God from them, adding that his translation was made on King HÃ¥kon's initiative. Considering the actual contents of the collection, one is not quite convinced of this noble purpose, for the stories celebrate illicit love and sensual pleasure. It is matter for debate to what extent this literature was introduced because its contents were considered suitable and to what extent it was attractive simply by dint of its foreignness. This latter possibility accords with Gellner's theory that elites were created by increasing the separation of their members from the ordinary population, while increasing their similarity to elites in other countries. The widespread use of the vernacular in the Nordic countries might seem an argument against this. But writing in any language was exclusive to the elite, and the contents of this imported literature was more different from popular taste than the sagas, although it would be an exaggeration to regard the latter as a genuinely popular literature. There is thus a clear connection between political, social, and cultural development. As the court was an important instrument in linking the aristocracy to the king's service, courtly culture may be regarded as a further means to this end. One might then assess to what extent this connection was
a result of the king's deliberate policy and to what extent it can be understood instead as the result of the changing tastes of thirteenth-century Norwegian aristocrats, who were becoming more closely attached to the king and more exposed to foreign influence.

Some modern scholars, notably the famous Norwegian writer Hans E. Kinck (1857–1924) had only contempt for the romantic literature and regarded its introduction as a tragedy because it destroyed the authentic Old Norse culture represented by the sagas. Implicit in this criticism is the romantic notion of a
Volksgeist
, the spiritual essence of a people. Whereas the Norwegian elite had previously been part of a larger national community, it had now become isolated from the people under the influence of a foreign elite culture. It may be objected to this that the sagas and the skaldic poetry were also mainly for the elite and that there are traces of romance in some of the sagas. We do not know how contemporaries reacted to the two cultures, but there is no direct evidence of cultural conflict in thirteenth-century Norway. Maybe people at the time were able to enjoy widely differing literary genres, in much the same way as we can enjoy Shakespeare, Ibsen, Beckett, and popular detective stories. Nevertheless, the introduction of courtly literature does point to some changes in the direction of a more exclusive aristocratic elite, similar to the introduction of new rules of behavior in
The King's Mirror.

Whereas
The King's Mirror,
despite its concern for the king's honor and proper manners at court, gives little impression of great luxury, and chivalrous literature mostly describes a world far removed from the Scandinavian kingdoms, the
Chronicle of Erik
represents a courtly culture nearer to home. When Duke Erik visits his future father-in-law, King HÃ¥kon, in Oslo for the first time, the townspeople are full of wonder, remarking that “God has made him well.” He completely charms the queen as well, who “addressed sweet words to him from her rosy mouth.” His failure
to delight his fiancée in a similar way was caused by the fact that she was only one year old. When he leaves, the queen calls him her “friend and Christmas brother,” and he addresses her as “my dear sweet mother,” and promises to serve her wherever he finds himself. As he goes his way out of town, all the ladies lean out of their windows to watch him.

The Chronicler also dwells in some detail on the dukes' wedding in Oslo in 1312. Before leaving for Norway, the dukes give their men two or three new outfits. The brides are the most beautiful women ever seen; no man, however full of sorrow, can watch them without joy in his heart. The guests receive beautiful clothing as well, and good horses; they leave richer than they have arrived. There are tournaments, dances and games, pleasant words and great joy. Even more magnificent are the festivities Duke Erik gives the following year. He builds a large hall for the purpose and fills it with velvet and beautiful textiles. In a cellar under the earth, he stores wine, mead, and all kinds of food. The king and the court arrive from Norway. The celebration lasts for four days with feasting, drinking, tournaments, and rich gifts for the guests. The first dish is served by knights, followed by gifts of horses and clothes. Many men are knighted, including two Germans who receive the accolade from Duke Erik.