Forging Rotted Flesh Anew: New Norse Myths

By T. Carl Hardy

The Norse god Odin recounts his early days when he was a fledgling deity. In a world of great potential but also great danger, he comes into his own as a collector of souls and a god of war and wisdom. Forging Rotted Flesh Anew expands upon the original Norse myths to create new stories that are relatable yet outlandish, comical yet uns

• Language: English
• Publisher: T. Carl Hardy
• Release date: Apr 21, 2024
• ISBN: 9798990208414

Book preview

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Forging Rotted Flesh Anew © copyright 2024 by T. Carl Hardy. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form whatsoever, by photography or xerography or by any other means, by broadcast or transmission, by translation into any kind of language, nor by recording electronically or otherwise, without permission in writing from the author, except by a reviewer, who may quote brief passages in critical articles or reviews.

Paperback ISBN: 979-8-9902084-0-7

Ebook ISBN: 979-8-9902084-1-4

Cover by Alex Dickson

Interior design by Jess LaGreca, Mayfly book design

Library of Congress Catalog Number: 2024905570

First Printing: 2024

Printed in United States of America

Contents

Author’s Note

The Rainbow Hammer

Ore

Driftwood

The Chant and the Shell

List of Images

A Note on Sources

Author’s Note

Since the height of their popularity in antiquity, Odin, Thor, and Loki have undergone dramatic makeovers. They were once (and still are) to some people very real, thinking, powerful entities that influenced how lives were lived and how decisions were made.

Contrast those entities with the Odin, Thor, and Loki that we now know as comic book and film heroes/antiheroes. The similarities could probably be listed on one hand. If the old Odin and the new Odin recited their life stories and their duties as gods, there might be a 5% overlap in content. I don’t wish to denigrate the modern depictions; I wish them well. But when reading this volume, you might leave the modern Odin, Thor, Loki, etc., here at the door, and start anew.

That is not to say that I speak for the original mythology. I should apologize for the tagline New Norse Myths, which is more expedient than it is true. But hopefully some of the spirit of those myths has made its way into these stories.

I include some photos relevant to the subject matter at the end of this volume. I find that viewing the landscapes and tools of those in the past can help us see from their eyes and perhaps get into their heads.

A note on word forms: I have opted to use the form Odin rather than Óðinn, Thor rather than Þórr, etc., in this volume. The Old Norse forms might be closer to the truth, but they are also very far from practical for an English-speaking audience. Gods forgive me.

The Rainbow Hammer

What did folk do before drinking-feasts? I can answer that: nothing. I know, because I was there. Don’t misunderstand me: it wasn’t that drinking-feasts were the first form of entertainment. It’s that, before drinking-feasts, there simply was nothing in the world. This makes a sort of sense because everything begins at drinking-feasts. Drinking-feasts are always where nicknames are coined, or where loyalty is pledged, or where love is declared, and so many other firsts. And for gods, so much more is created at drinking-feasts. The very first drinking-feast, at which I was present, was also the beginning of many things. But instead of nicknames, instead of pledges, instead of declaring love, we, being gods, made most of the things that came to inhabit the blank world. As they say, it all began on the rim of a cup.

The world before that first drinking-feast did indeed contain some things, but only a few: purple martins, sheep, and trolls. Who knows where the martins laid eggs or slept; there were trees too, of course, but they weren’t yet alive and could furnish no sticks or leaves for nests. I’m not even sure that there was wind. But this remains vivid to me: the world was completely grey and lacking color. The dirt was always midnight and the sky always dusk. Even the ocean was colorless: the only way you could tell that there was an ocean at all were all of the drowned sheep that had wandered into it. This was before decay, so the sheep accumulated over millennia, with their rigor mortis-heads always keeping those yellow eyes above the water like an army of peeping frogs.

One would think that the boredom back then would be terrible, and it was,