The Story of Thor, in the Voice of Neil Gaiman
This content was originally published by LIDIA YUKNAVITCH on 15 May 2017 | 11:00 am.
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The prime character tales begin with Loki stealing Thor’s wife’s hair. Waking up one morning to find his wife, Sif, bald to the scalp, Thor goes straight to that conniving troublemaker, the shape-shifting crafty misanthrope who lives among the gods, and threatens to break every bone in his body. Thor being Thor, he extends the threat to include every single day for the rest of Loki’s life, should he fail to return Sif’s gorgeous golden locks. Thus begins the story “The Treasures of the Gods,” which goes on to reveal the origins of some of the most important magical objects in all of the myths: Odin’s spear and arm cuff, Thor’s hammer.
In “The Master Builder,” a newcomer arrives in Asgard right about the time that the gods are discussing the need for a wall to protect their kingdom. He is “a big man, dressed as a smith, and behind him trudged a horse — a stallion, huge and gray, with a broad back.” The smith offers to build the gods a wall in a seemingly impossible amount of time. Loki talks the gods into promising the smith the sun, the moon and the goddess Freya’s hand in marriage should he complete the wall in time, an effort he persuades everyone will fail. Only Freya seems to suspect that Loki is terribly wrong. “I hate you so much,” she tells him, a line that made me laugh out loud to no one because that’s just what I’d say in her position, and Gaiman’s deadpan voice correctly conveys a flat yet homicidal tone.
I do wish there were more women-centered stories in the collection. Gaiman concedes this omission in his introduction, explaining that he would have liked to retell the tales of Eir, the doctor of the gods; or Lofn, the comforter; or Sjofn, the goddess of love; and Vor, the goddess of wisdom, but he didn’t have enough to go on. Still, he does an admirable job weaving the women in, including Freya.
And really, the listening is the thing. Sure, I was stirred when I curled up with the book and read about the death of Odin’s second son, Balder, how his wife “saw her husband’s body carried past, …her heart gave out in her breast, and she fell dead onto the shore. They carried her to the funeral pyre, and they placed her body beside Balder’s.” But when I listened to it, nestled in my bed in the dark with no light but my blue wave projector (what?) casting rhythmic cerulean images on my ceiling and walls, I bawled. Hearing the great myths spoken in a language from my present with a trace of ancient history physically broke me open, Gaiman’s voice bringing the characters to life.
In the introduction, Gaiman emphasizes how the passing on of oral traditions is a vital art. He dedicates the book to his grandson. His hope is that readers will feel compelled to retell these stories. He doesn’t mention something else, but I can hear it in his voice, something we could all use a little more of just now, in the dark: delight.
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