Following article is published in the Norwegian scientific journal of art history,
Kunst og Kultur, nr. 1 2014. Copyright: Universitetsforlaget, Oslo.
The article is part of a larger ongoing art historical analysis related to a planned touring exhibition in 2015-16,
currently being produced by the Norwegian National Museum of Art, Architecture and Design in Oslo.
Old Icons in New Guises
From the Snorri illustrations to the film trilogy Lord of the Rings
Nina Denney Ness
[email protected]
In the worldwide blockbuster The Lord of the Rings, based on J.R.R. Tolkien’s book of the
same title, several scenes bear notable resemblances to illustrations in the 1899 Norwegian
edition of Snorres Kongesagaer (Heimskringla. A History of the Norse Kings, by Snorri
Sturluson). The illustrations in this edition were drawn by Halfdan Egedius, Christian Krohg,
Gerhard Munthe, Eilif Peterssen, Erik Werenskiold and Wilhelm Wetlesen.1 This article
discusses for the first time the intricate connections between the drawings, the books and the
film trilogy.
The similarities are apparent on a variety of levels; some are visually striking, others are more
a matter of motif or thematic content. In some cases the parallels are noticeable in terms of
mood. Sometimes the similarities are encapsulated in shots of just a few seconds, other times
in more extended sequences. Either way, the parallels involve various aspects of the culture
and mythology of the saga era, and it is obvious that the filmmakers were influenced by the
Snorri illustrations. In this article I shall examine the complex visual relationships between
the drawings, texts and film, and their common origins in the world of the sagas.2
The Lord of the Rings film epos is a trilogy consisting of The Fellowship of the Ring
(2001), The Two Towers (2002) and The Return of the King (2003). The basis for the films
were the books of the same titles by J.R.R. Tolkien, which were originally published in three
volumes. The first two volumes appeared in 1954, the third in 1955. The film version is
regarded as one of the foremost examples of recent years of the “fantasy” genre, the
characteristics of which are supernatural events and magic. As in “fantasy” stories in general,
the action of the books takes place in a fictional world , in this case that of Middle-earth. We
follow the young hobbit Frodo on his quest together with the Fellowship of the Ring. The
goal of their undertaking is to destroy the One Ring, whereby they will also eliminate the
master of evil, the spirit Sauron. With help from among others the good wizard Gandalf, the
confederation of the Free Peoples ultimately prevails against Sauron and his ally, the evil
wizard Saruman.
As filmmaker Peter Jackson himself has said, the literature of the Norse sagas was an
important source of inspiration for Tolkien: “Tolkien based so much of his story on the Norse
sagas.”3 Thanks to his position as university professor of Old Norse from 1922 to 1959,
Tolkien was familiar with Snorri, the main source of our knowledge of the Norse sagas.
When reading The Lord of the Rings, one encounters many echoes of the Icelandic poet.
Some of these are textual, others have to do with visual imagery that corresponds to specific
illustrations. Tolkien is particularly admired for the visually evocative power of his writing
style.
During the making of the films, the books of The Lord of the Rings where a veritable
“bible” for the members of the design team. Jackson and his designers wanted the films to be
as visually faithful to Tolkien’s books as possible.4 As one of the principal designers said:
“We tried to draw most of our design influences first from Tolkien’s written word […].”5As a
result of this approach, a link, albeit indirect, was also established between the film trilogy
and Snorri – via Tolkien’s books.
It is also highly likely that the film team became more directly acquainted with the
Snorri illustrations. One reason why they would have wanted to familiarise themselves with
this material is presumably that these drawings have exerted a defining influence on the
pictorial and visual representation of Saga Culture. Consequently, the Snorri illustrations
carry an aura of authenticity, which Jackson also wanted his films to convey. We know that
before starting on the actual design work, the film team immersed themselves in historical
sources relating to the various cultures and historical periods alluded to in Tolkien’s stories.6
Another relevant point is that filmmakers frequently seek inspiration from art history.
That this was also true in the case of The Lord of the Rings is implied in the following
statement by one of the chief designers: “[…] we were trying to hint at the whole notion of
art history.”7 The practice of basing film scenes on historical works of art helps to create a
patina of timelessness, or an aura of the epic.
How exactly the influence of the Snorri illustrations was transmitted is an interesting
question, yet one that falls outside the scope of this article. Work on the films proceeded at a
frenetic pace and involved complex collaborations between several departments, which
collectively employed some 200 illustrators and designers. Most famous among them were
Alan Lee and John Howe, but there were also many others.8 Influence may have occurred at
various stages of the film work – during the preparatory phase, the production phase, or the
editing and post-production work. In other words, the influence might have occurred in
conjunction with the initial “previsualising” sketches, during the drawing of the storyboards
and/or in connection with the final processing of the film footage.
Earlier research on the inspiration that Tolkien himself received from Snorri and the
saga literature has confined itself to the literary aspect. One book that addresses this theme is
Nancy Marie Brown’s popularly pitched Song of the Vikings. Snorri and the Making of Norse
Myths, from 2012. Another is Marjorie Burns’ Perilous Realms. Celtic and Norse in
Tolkien’s Middle-earth from 2005. I have been unable, however, to find any scholarly studies
on the subject of either the links between the Snorri illustrations and Tolkien’s books, or the
links between the former and the Lord of the Rings films. In other words, this article appears
to be venturing into previously unexplored territory.
In the following I shall analyse five representative motifs with reference to two visual
sources: the Snorri illustrations and the Lord of the Rings film trilogy. The analysis of the
film material will be based on images from the scenes: Eowyn outside the Golden Hall,
Lady Galadriel’s Mirror, Gandalf Riding Shadowfax and The Battle of Pelennor Fields.
These film images will be compared with Gyda sender bud til Kong Harald (Gyda Sends
Messengers to King Harald) and Kong Haralds menn kommer atter til Gyda (King Harald’s
Men Return to Gyda), both by Christian Krohg, Erik Werenskiold’s Dronning Ragnhilds
drøm (Queen Ragnhild’s Dream), Gerhard Munthe’s Odin, and Halfdan Egedius’
Bondehæren (The Vassal Army). All these drawings were done in pen and produced between
1895 and 1899. The visual analysis is augmented with text from Snorri’s Heimskringla and
Tolkien’s The Lord of the Rings.
The Snorri drawings
It has been claimed that the publication of Snorres Kongesagaer in 1899 made a greater
contribution to Norway’s struggle for freedom, independence and democracy than any other
single book. The drawings were produced for the so-called “deluxe edition” of 1899, with the
text translated into Norwegian by the historian and medieval scholar Gustav Storm. This was
the first thoroughly illustrated edition of Snorri. Admittedly, an earlier edition from 1838–39
had contained drawings by J. Flintoe, but these were not direct illustrations of the sagas so
much as depictions of landscapes and places mentioned in the text. In the same year as the
deluxe edition was published, a more affordable popular edition known as the national edition
was also launched. This carried the same illustrations, but lacked the margin decorations.9
The book quickly became popular, with as many as 100,000 copies being printed in the early
years of the 20th century. Since then, the book has been reissued in frequent new translations
and editions.
The huge popularity of this publication and the fact that it sold so widely help to
explain the immense influence it came to exert on how we visualise the Viking Age. The
depth and range of this influence is also due to the fact that the drawings gave the Viking Age
a new appearance, with the illustrators deferring to historical research far more extensively
than any of their forerunners. Under the strict guidance of Gustav Storm, the Snorri artists
studied every available source material, including weapons and other artefacts in the
Collection of Norwegian Antiquities at Oslo University Museum, and the depictions of
costumes in ancient manuscripts kept at the University Library. The Gokstad ship, excavated
in 1880, was also scrutinised and sketched in detail, as was the Bayeux Tapestry from the
years around 1070, which is among the oldest known visual representations of the Viking
Age. In other words, it is fair to say that the Snorri drawings depicted the Viking period more
accurately than any of the illustrations they superseded.10 Earlier illustrations had placed
greater emphasis on the artful use of figures, reminiscent of Greeks and Romans in tritely
theatrical poses. Moreover, they lack the atmosphere of a coarser, remote past that we
associate with the sagas, something the Snorri artists were more adept at conveying. Several
of the Snorri drawings offer faithful renditions of the most evocative passages in the sagas,
with their highly condensed, concise sentences and bold narrative devices. This is particularly
true of the drawings by Erik Werenskiold, Halfdan Egedius and Gerhard Munthe.
Dragons and heroism
One of the defining characteristics of Tolkien’s literary aesthetic is his refined use of
ambiguity. His fictional universe builds on a remarkably broad range of inspirational sources
– a dazzling myriad of intricately interwoven threads and influences. There can, however, be
no doubt that one of the contributing elements to this dense weave was Norse literature and
mythology. Tolkien belonged to what was then the international elite of specialists in Norse
literature and language. As a professor of Anglo-Saxon and English at Leeds University and
Oxford, he taught Old Norse from 1925 to 1959. It should also be noted that, as a professor at
Oxford, he managed to have Shakespeare partly replaced by Snorri on the curriculum.11
Given this deep interest in the literature of the sagas and his general fondness for collections
and archives, it is reasonable to assume that Tolkien would have ensured he had access to the
first richly illustrated edition of Snorri that came out in 1899, which means in turn that he was
most probably acquainted with the Snorri drawings. We know that the Oxford University
Library acquired the 1899 edition as early as 1900. Thus the illustrations were at least
available to him at his place of work in the years when he was writing The Lord of the
Rings.12
One reason to assume that Tolkien was interested in the 1899 edition of Snorri is his
general interest in the visualising of narratives, as we see in his highly evocative writing
style. Another reason is his interest in the art of illustration. As a keen amateur artist he
produced numerous illustrations for his stories in The Silmarillion, The Hobbit and The Lord
of the Rings. Like his narrative writing, Tolkien’s pictures are “products of a melting-pot,
where all the art he saw was combined”.13 Indeed, aspects of his own drawings may well be
attributable to familiarity with the Snorri illustrations, with their depictions of, among other
things, Nordic mountain scenery, snow and forests. Not least there is the characteristic use of
black lines and rhythmical, systematic hatching. There are clear similarities here to the use of
line in many of the Snorri illustrations and its prominence as a defining characteristic of what
is often referred to as the “Snorri style”.14 It should be noted, however, that although Tolkien
produced several drawings of scenes from The Lord of the Rings, these were never published
as illustrations in the book itself.15
Tolkien’s interest in the era of the sagas went back a long way. As a young teenager
he learned Old Norse in order to be able to read the sagas in the original. His passion for
Norse myths had begun even earlier, when as a child he read the Volsunga Saga about Sigurd
Fåvnesbane. Amongst the things that attracted him was the many heroic figures, their
fearless determination and frequent displays of bravery, even when all hope was lost. Tolkien
summed this up as “the theory of courage, which is the greatest contribution of early
Northern literature”.16
Tolkien’s enthusiasm for the culture of the sagas also has a broader context. Since the
period of the Enlightenment in the 18th century, interest in the saga culture had been
stimulated in England by the work of people such as Thomas Percy and Paul-Henri Mallet,
not to mention William Morris, who was a significant influence on Tolkien.17 Tolkien’s
fervent interest in the freedom and heroism of the Vikings thus fitted into a long tradition
stretching all the way back to Montesquieu, the first thinker of modern times to highlight the
Nordic countries as a moral example for Europe. In his De l’esprit des lois (1748),
Montesquieu describes Scandinavia as “having been the source of the liberties of Europe”
and Scandinavians as “those valiant people who sallied forth and deserted their countries to
destroy tyrants and slaves, and to teach men that, nature having made them equal, reason
could not render them dependent”.18 These words are strongly reminiscent of Tolkien’s own
portrayal of the people of Rohan and their allies, including among others the good wizard
Gandalf.
“Vikings of the plains”
Many of the film sequences that show the closest parallels to the Snorri drawings deal with
narrative episodes relating to Rohan. Whether or not we are meant to view the people of
Rohan as Anglo-Saxons or Vikings has been a topic of much debate within Tolkien circles.
Relevant here is Jackson’s statement: “The Rohan culture always seems to me to be very
much based on Norse, Scandinavia, Northern European civilizations. And that comes across
in the books, and we really didn’t want to deviate from that in the film.”19 This attitude is
supported by the head of the film company’s artistic department, Dan Hennah: “There was a
sort of theory that we should think of them as Vikings of the plains. Vikings without their
ships but with their horses instead.”20 Jackson expands on this by pointing out the numerous
horse motifs that feature in the design of Rohan, as elements in the roof ornamentation and as
architectural carvings.21
At the same time we see in the films that Viking elements are intermixed with AngloSaxon references, such as Sutton Hoo-style helmets, armour and decorations. This
ambivalence corresponds to Tolkien’s aesthetic of ambiguity and contributes to the films’
distinctive atmosphere. At the same time the ambivalence corresponds with a fundamental
attitude to Viking culture in England, the long tradition of bracketing Norse and Anglo-Saxon
culture together, due to their many points of overlap.22 Another reason for the confusion has
to do with a certain fusion of the two by Tolkien himself, since in his endeavour to create an
English epic, he was inclined to add Norse myths and legends to the mix.23 Despite this,
Tolkien let it be known that this type of intermixture did not apply in the case of Rohan. In
Appendix F of The Lord of the Rings, Tolkien writes about linguistic aspects of the various
cultures that feature in the book and explains that, for reasons of readability and overall
coherence, he chose to give the people of Rohan a language reminiscent of English: “This
linguistic procedure does not imply that the Rohirrim closely resembled the ancient English
otherwise, in culture or art, in weapons or modes of warfare, except in a general way […]”24
(author’s italics).
Tolkien also appears to allude to Scandinavia in his description of the horsemen of
Rohan on their first appearance in the book: “tall and long-limbed; their hair, flaxen-pale,
flowed under their light helms, and streamed in long braids behind them; their faces were
stern and keen. In their hands were tall spears of ash, painted shields were slung at their
backs, long swords were at their belts, their burnished shirts of mail hung down upon their
knees.”25 This description of Rohan warriors on their galloping steeds feeds into one of the
arguments frequently repeated in the research literature which questions the link between the
people of Rohan and the Anglo-Saxons, namely that whereas Rohan is a horse-based society
like the Vikings, the same was not true of the Anglo-Saxons.26
Gyda and Eowyn
“Tolkien based so much of his story on the Norse sagas,” Peter Jackson remarks.27 When we
consider that Snorri is our main source of knowledge about the Norse sagas, it is only natural
that Jackson, like Tolkien before him, should turn to Snorri for inspiration. That he did so
becomes evident when we compare, for example, an illustration by Christian Krohg from
Harald Harfagre’s Saga (fig. 1) with a scene from The Lord of the Rings (fig. 2). In the film
scene, we meet the young woman Eowyn, niece of King Theoden of Rohan. Dressed in
white, with long blond tresses, she stands framed in an portico-style gallery decorated with
Norse dragon motifs. The gallery is part of the king’s Golden Hall, which stands on a high
outcrop. The building is also known as Meduseld, which stands for “mead hall” in AngloSaxon. Eowyn’s gaze lingers on a group of horsemen in front of her, one of whom is
destined to become King Aragorn, with whom she will fall in love.
The film scene is strongly reminiscent of the drawing. In both cases we see a woman
in the setting of a covered gallery, wearing a long-sleeved white dress. With her fair hair
hanging loose over her shoulders, Gyda like Eowyn stands facing us on an elevation. The two
are seen from almost the same angle and vantage point, from slightly below. The women’s
expressions are also similar. They are presented as proud, upright and with raised chests. The
position of their arms is nearly identical. In addition, the facial features of both are soft, with
rounded contours. Their necks are long and similarly angled towards the collarbone. Eowyn’s
dainty necklace matches the little decoration on the upper edge of Gyda’s dress. Particularly
notable is the similarity between the patterns of Gyda’s belt and the vertical section of
Eowyn’s belt. Another resemblance is the meandering line of the river rising through the
picture to the left of Gyda, and the winding contours of the dragon motif similarly placed
next to Eowyn. Krohg’s drawing illustrates a pivotal scene in Snorri’s Harald Harfagre’s
Saga, when King Harald sends his men after Gyda, daughter of King Eirik of Hordaland:
Gyda […] was brought up as foster-child in the house of a great farmer in Valdres.
The king wanted her for his concubine; for she was a remarkably handsome girl, but
of high spirit withal. […] the messengers came there, and delivered their errand to the
girl […] Gyda said to the messengers, “Now tell to King Harald these my words. I
will only agree to be his lawful wife upon the condition that he shall first, for my
sake, subject to himself the whole of Norway […] for only then, methinks, can he be
called the king of a people.”
On hearing her message, King Harald replied: “I make the solemn vow […] that never shall I
clip or comb my hair until I have subdued the whole of Norway […].”28
Like Gyda, Eowyn is a foster-child in the house where we first see here. Both are here
relating to future kings. The parallels become still stronger when we compare Krohg’s
illustration Kong Haralds menn kommer atter til Gyda (King Harald’s Men Return to Gyda)
(fig. 3) with the next sequence in the film (fig. 4).29 In both we see a woman turning to the
viewer’s left, where she sees a horseman approaching along the road below. In the film the
presence of the horse is emphasised by the horse motif on the pennant fluttering beside the
woman. The motif on the pennant also reinforces the film still’s relationship to the drawing
by echoing the position and size of the horse relative to Gyda.
Both Gyda’s and Eowyn’ long tresses flutter in the breeze, while behind on the
horizon are mountains. In the film image, the two flag poles echo the vertical lines of the
gallery opening through which Gyda leans out. If we consider the terrace where Eowyn
stands, there is a further similarity between the shape and layout of the stones and the wooden
planks of Krohg’s gallery. There is also a correspondence in the perspective lines of the two
buildings, which in both cases converge towards a vanishing point somewhere behind the
woman in the right half of the picture space. And although Gyda stands inside a gallery while
Eowyn is placed on an open terrace, their heights relative to the horses beneath them are
similar. In addition, the images are related insofar as the horse motif of the roof decoration in
the film scene takes up the general Norse references in the illustration. The link to the Norse
theme is further enhanced by Tolkien’s description of Eowyn as the “shieldmaiden of
Rohan”. This allusion to female warriors and the Valkyries connects Eowyn directly with
saga literature.
Figure 3 relates to the following lines in Snorri: “When King Harald had now become
sole king over all Norway, he remembered what that proud girl had said to him; so he sent
men to her, and had her brought to him, and took her to his bed.”30 Here as well we recognise
elements from the film scene: the proud woman, sexual desire, an heir apparent on his way to
battle, and an entourage of horsemen. If we consider Tolkien’s other descriptions of Eowyn,
the pictures converge still further: “She is fearless and high-hearted. All love her.”31 “Grave
and thoughtful was her glance. […] Very fair was her face, and her long hair was like a river
of gold. Slender and tall she was in her white robe girt with silver, but strong she seemed and
stern as steel, a daughter of kings.”32 “Far over the plain Eowyn […] stood still, alone before
the doors of the silent house.”33
Ill.1. Christian Krohg, Gyda Sends her Message to King Harald, ca.1899. Penn on paper. Private ownership.
To the right: Eowyn in front of the Golden Hall in Edoras. From the film Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers, 2002.
© New Line Productions.
Ill.2.Christian Krohg: King Harald’s Men Return to Gyda,
ca.1899.Penn on paper. Private ownership.
Ill. 3. Eowyn in Front of the Golden Hall in Edoras.
From the film Lord of the Rings; The Two Towers, 2002.
© New Line Productions.
Ragnhild and Galadriel
One frequently overlooked aspect of Norse mythology is its references to elves. This theme
is, however, touched upon indirectly, if we compare Erik Werenskiold’s drawing Dronning
Ragnhilds drøm (Queen Ragnhild’s Dream) from Halfdan the Black Saga (fig. 5), with the
film scene Lady Galadriel’s Mirror (fig. 6). Both images show a tall, ethereally beautiful
woman in a white dress, with long, flowing locks of fair hair. She appears graceful and
distinguished, her facial expression is dreamy and remote. In both the film and the drawing,
the fairy-tale atmosphere is emphasised by the unusual tree beside which the woman stands,
its winding roots and branches twining themselves around her.
In both Snorri and Tolkien, the woman is a queen with clairvoyant abilities. In Snorri,
the drawing illustrates the account of a dream that Ragnhild had prior to the birth of her son
Harald Harfagre:
Ragnhild, who was wise and intelligent, dreamt great dreams. She dreamt, for one,
that she was standing out in her herb-garden, and she took a thorn out of her shift; but
while she was holding the thorn in her hand it grew so that it became a great tree, one
end of which struck itself down into the earth, […] and the other end of the tree raised
itself so high in the air that she could scarcely see over it, and it became also
wonderfully thick [… with] branches white as snow. There were many and great
limbs to the tree, […] and so vast were the tree’s branches that they seemed to her to
cover all Norway, and even much more.34
The dream described here was interpreted as a prophecy about the son whom Ragnhild would
soon bring forth – about the long life of Harald Harfagre, his numerous offspring and the
great influence he would gain throughout the land. Like Ragnhild, Galadriel is also a queen.
She is queen of the kingdom of the elves. Like Ragnhild, she is wise and intelligent and can
see into the future. But where Ragnhild is visited by dreams, Galadriel fills a silver basin with
water in order to see – in Tolkien’s words – “things that were, and things that are, and things
that yet may be”.35 Galadriel’s visions are also dream-like by nature. “Like a dream the vision
shifted […]” Tolkien writes.36 If we add to this his description of the elven queen Galadriel,
we are easily reminded of Werenskiold’s depiction of Queen Ragnhild: “Tall and white and
fair she walked beneath the trees. She spoke no word […].”37 “[…] grave and beautiful […]
clad wholly in white […] the hair of the Lady was of deep gold.”38
The description of the tree in the above translation of Snorri would be just as fitting if
applied to the mighty “mallorn” trees that grow only in Galadriel’s kingdom. Concerning
these, Tolkien writes: “There are no trees like the trees of that land […] its pillars are of silver
[…].”39 “Their great grey trunks were of mighty girth, but their height could not be
guessed.”40 The similarities with Snorri’s description are striking. Both authors describe
miraculous, whitish trees of supernatural thickness and height.
Ill. 4. Erik Werenskiold: Queen Ragnhilds Dream, ca.1899.
Private ownership.
Ill. 5. Lady Galadriel’s Mirror.
From the film Lord of the Rings; The Fellowship of the Ring, 2001.
© New Line Cinema.
Odin and Gandalf
If we now compare Gerhard Munthe’s Odin from Harald Harfagre’s Saga (fig. 7) with a
scene from the film showing Gandalf riding on Shadowfax (fig. 8), we notice other
resemblances. In both images we see a white-haired, bearded man in profile, a long staff in
his hand, leaning slightly back as he rides a galloping horse. His cape flaps in the wind
behind him, and he is wearing pale coloured leggings. In both images, the beards are similar
in terms of both length and the angular cut. In both cases, the hair falls towards the shoulder
in much the same way, curving up at the back of the neck. Further, the horse plays a similarly
dominant role in both compositions. But there is also a similarity in the cropping of the
images – just above the man’s head, at the tip of the horse’s trailing tail, and just below the
horse’s hooves.
Figs. 8 and 9 introduce one of the film’s principal characters, the wizard Gandalf,
whose name Tolkien took, by his own account, from the Dvergatal – a list of the names of
dwarves in the Völuspá, a poem in Edda. As Tolkien writes: “[…] Gandalfr is a dwarf-name
in Völuspá.”41 As an Old Norse word, Gandalfr can be translated as “white wizard”, “white
magic wand”, or “elf with wand”. Although Gandalf is not an elf, the other definitions are
very appropriate.42
Other literary similarities are furthermore brought to light. One relevant Norse
connection is the god Odin, who also appears in Snorri. The link between Gandalf and Odin
is a matter Tolkien is obviously aware of when he describes Gandalf as an “Odinic
wanderer”.43 Like Odin, Gandalf is one who embarks on frequent and distant travels. Both
ride the best horse – Odin the supernaturally fast, eight-legged Sleipner, Gandalf the
miraculously swift, glossy white Shadowfax. “Does he not shine like silver,” Gandalf asks,
“and run as smoothly as a swift stream?”44 The mere fact that Gandalf’s horse is named,
creates a connection to the sagas, where horses are so valued as to make this common
practice.
The link between Odin and Gandalf is further reinforced by the fact that both are
magicians or shamans with access to the spiritual world and the realm of the dead. As Snorri
says; “Odin understood also the art in which the greatest power is lodged, and which he
himself practised; namely, what is called magic.”45 Reference to magic helps us identify other
similarities between the Munthes drawing and a different scene in the film, which shows
Gandalf riding on a giant eagle. In his flight he is followed by two other huge eagles
reminiscent of the two ravens accompanying Odin in Munthe’s drawing. Hugin and Munin
were Odin’s most useful helpers in gaining knowledge of events taking place in the world.
The birds that follow Gandalf are likewise magical sources of knowledge about distant
occurrences.
.
Ill. 6. Gerhard Munthe: Odin, 1899.
Penn and pencil on paper, 70 x 83 mm
Nasjonal Museum of Art, Architecture and Design
Foto: Anne Hansteen Jarre.
Ill. 7. Gandalf Riding Shadowfax.
From the film Lord of the Rings; The Two Towers, 2002.
© New Line Productions.
Ill. 8. Gandalf and the Magic Eagles.
From the film Lord of the Rings; Return of the King, 2003.
© New Line Cinema.
Stiklestad and Pelennor Fields
Turning now to the many battles scenes in the film trilogy, one in particular is reminiscent of
a famous illustration in Snorri: Bondehæren (The Vassal Army) by Halfdan Egedius (fig. 9).
In this depiction of the Battle of Stiklestad taken from Olav den helliges saga (Saga of Olaf
Haraldson) we see clear parallels with the Battle of Pelennor Fields. Both images show a
scene of overwhelming dimensions, with warriors massing in their thousands, the motif
focusing on the moment just before an epic battle of crucial importance – the silence before
the storm.
Striking correspondences include the huge V-formation of the mass, pointing towards
the right, where it stops beside a brighter field in front of a rounded elevation, the slope and
precipitous right edge of which form another common feature. In both images, the upper
contour of the human formation subtly echoes the undulating line of the horizon. At the same
time, the lower contour of the massive army forms a diagonal at an identical angle towards
both the upper silhouette and the right picture frame. In both the drawing and the film image,
the warriors are arranged in serried ranks. In front of them, in the lower left corner of each
image, we glimpse a few isolated individuals. In the film image, the positioning of these two
figures relative to the front line corresponds with a cluster of warriors in the drawing. One of
the figures in the film image is Theoden, King of Rohan, actively rousing his men with the
cry: “Now is the hour come, Riders of the Mark […]”46 Egedius’ drawing answers to an
iconic moment in the saga narrative. It depicts the battle of Stiklestad on 29 July 1030, in
which King Olav Haraldsson met his death, a few years before he was beatified as Saint Olaf.
The battle would be remembered by posterity as the moment in which Christianity arrived in
Norway. And as such it is treated as highly significant not just by Snorri but by medieval
history in general, due to its many and far-reaching consequences. The drawing depicts the
armed forces that came to meet Olaf’s troops, the so-called vassal army, which consisted of a
broad alliance of various groups, led by Kalf Arnason. The vassal army is in the process of
preparing its battle formation. Concerning the immense size of this formation, Snorri says
that the army was so numerous that never before had anyone in Norway seen its like. It
represented a massive rebellion against what was perceived as Olav’s despotic attempt to
Christianise the country under protest. This was a rebellion against coercion and slavery,
pillage and murder. The drawing conveys the people’s determination to stand as one and to
march with a single will by depicting the army as a homogeneous mass. In the film it is
likewise a case of violent rebellion against coercion and destructive forces. The alliance that
faces the enemy is similarly broad and united, a condition that is visually communicated by
the same means as are used in the drawing, with an emphasis on the breadth and uniform
character of the assembled army.
If we consider the sky in these two pictures, we see that in both cases there is a
deliberate contrasting of light and dark. In The Lord of the Rings, dark skies are general
associated with “The Great Darkness”, or the dominion of evil. In this image the darkness is
already succumbing to the light, presaging the battle’s ultimately favourable outcome: “Time
seemed poised in uncertainty […] Then suddenly […] light was glimmering. Far, far away, in
the South the clouds could be dimly seen as remote grey shapes, rolling up, drifting: morning
lay beyond them.”47
In the Egedius drawing, the shift between light and dark carries a slightly different
symbolism. Snorri says: “The weather was beautiful, and the sun shone clear; but when the
battle began the heaven and the sun became red, and before the battle ended it became as dark
as at night. […] No common wonder in the sky / Fell out that day – the sun on high, / And
not a cloud to see around, / Shone not, nor warmed Norway’s ground. / The day on which fell
out this fight / Was marked by dismal dusky light, / This from the East I heard […]”48
The sudden darkening of the sky is therefore interpreted as a miracle, which later
contributed to Olaf’s beatification. Likewise in the film, the dramatic transformation of the
sky is explained in terms of magic. Another aspect shared by the drawing and the film image
is the linkage between heavenly transformation and the struggle between Light and Dark,
Good and Evil. This thematic similarity is emphasised by means of a kind of mirror inversion
in the two images: in the drawing, the darkness of the sky is encroaching from the left, while
the sun is vanishing behind the hill to the right. In the film image we see the opposite – the
darkness is fading over the mountains to the right, while the light is moving in from the left.49
One aspect of the Snorri drawings that probably contributed to their appeal for the
filmmakers is their numerous epic elements. The drawings convey the impression that the
events referred to are of immense significance and gravity. This reminds us of one of the
crucial parallels between Snorri’s Sagas and Tolkien’s The Lord of the Rings. Both works
belong to a tradition of epic literature, insofar as the stories take place in a heroic distant past.
The time that has elapsed between then and now is of enormous duration, and the events
described are of profound significance for the subsequent development of the narrative.
Several of the characters are also heroic in an epic sense. They have extraordinary powers
and are either immortal or live supernaturally long lives. Like the Snorri artists, one of
Jackson’s aims was to render this epic literary content in a visual form. Why then not
seek inspiration from these artists solutions?
Ill. 9. Halfdan Egedius: The Vassal Army, ca.1899.
Penn on paper, 171 x 211 mm.
National Museum of Art, Architecture and Design.
Foto: Anne Hansteen Jarre.
Ill. 10. Battle of Pellenor Fields.
From the film Lord og the Ring: Return of the King, 2003. © New Line Cinema
.
Identifiable and Scandinavian
“Rohan is based on Scandinavian culture […]”50
Peter Jackson
The following comment by one of Jackson’s principal designers is useful in illuminating the
many connecting lines between the film trilogy and the world of the sagas: “At all times, the
overriding design ethic was to never approach ‘The Lord of the Rings’ as if it was a fantasy
[…].”51 In other words, the aim was to make the films seem “real” and believable. The
material aspects of culture in the films – buildings, costumes, weapons and other artefacts –
should not give the impression of being products of pure fantasy. This was one reason why
the designers turned to historical sources, an approach for which Jackson must be given the
credit: “Jackson was clearly the driving force behind this historical/archaeological
approach.”52 As Jackson himself says:
It’s not fantasy. It’s history, and Tolkien himself thought of this as a prehistory and
mythology of Europe […]. We built on that and based everything in the movie in
reality. Rohan is based on Scandinavian culture. We tried to base it on things that
seem familiar rather than foreign.53
The aspects of Scandinavian culture on which Rohan is based are largely prehistoric and
mythological, which means they are derived from the Viking era. Jackson’s remark indicates
that his team searched for historical sources that would help them achieve a “real” and
authentic impression of Viking culture, for which purpose the Snorri drawings are especially
well suited. The enduring appeal and widespread distribution of these drawings due to the
numerous Snorri editions, means the impression the drawings convey of the Viking era is in
addition easily identifiable and recognisable.54 Jackson’s frequently repeated aim to create an
impression of authenticity seems to build on a major explanation behind Tolkien’s unusually
broad appeal: the impression Tolkien’s book give of being genuine and real. As the historian
Nils Ivar Agøy points out, his readers are led to feel “there is no cheating [...] It isn’t merely
‘invented’, but is rooted in genuine tradition, true stories […]”.
Agøy also adds that Tolkien’s books “seem to satisfy a yearning for the recognisable”,
and that they seem to “function by affirming identity. In a way they inform us about who we
are, making us aware of the roots that were once ours, but which we haven’t thought much
about, whether they be the fairy tales of childhood or excerpts from the sagas which we had
to read in school […] it is also interesting that beyond the English-speaking world, Tolkien’s
books seem to have sold best in Scandinavia.”55
Other art historical sources
It is important to remember that Jackson and the other designers who worked on this film
trilogy used numerous different sources of visual inspiration. As initially mentioned, we
know that before starting on the actual design work, the film team immersed themselves in
great quantities of historical source material relating to the various cultures and historical
periods touched upon in the story.
As far as the film scenes here discussed are concerned, it could be mentioned that
regarding the Pelennor Fields (fig. 10), Jackson has said he “was inspired […] by […]
Albrecht Altdorfer at the very beginning of planning in 1997. There was one painting in
particular (The Battle of Alexander at Issus).”56 He explains that this painting was particularly
a source of inspiration for one of the other battle scenes, Helm’s Deep, but points out that: “It
has also, to some degree, influenced what the Pelennor Fields look like too. It is wonderfully
evocative and moody.”57 Although the parallels between the film scene and the Battle at Issus
from 1529 are evident, the human masses in the latter are far more chaotic and restless than
the mass we see in the film sequence, especially in the still image we see here. The similarity
to Egedius’ drawing, with its atmosphere of silent calm is clearly more pronounced and clear.
The kinship is also evident what regards visual and compositional aspects.
Concerning the film’s depiction of Eowyn in the gallery, it is conceivable that the film
designers have seen August Malmström’s illustration Ingeborgs klagan (Ingeborg’s Lament)
in Esaias Tegnér’s Frithjofs Saga from 1888. In Malmström’s drawing, Ingeborg is shown
standing in an open gallery embellished with carvings reminiscent of the decorated gallery in
the film image. Ingeborg’s costume, posture and expression, on the other hand, are clearly
different from those of Gyda, who bears far closer resemblance to Eowyn in the film scene.
Conclusion
The similarities between the Snorri drawings and the Lord of the Rings film trilogy bring out
an aspect of these illustrations that is often overlooked – their allusions to magic and the
supernatural. The way is thereby paved for re-contextualising the drawings within the
contemporary “fantasy” genre. This is a type of fiction characterised by supernatural events
and fantastical creatures. Where narratives often take place in imagined worlds with medieval
traits, and the plots revolve around the struggle between good and evil.
Since the best known example of “fantasy” fiction of our time is Tolkien’s legendary
universe, first and foremost The Lord of the Rings, the close kinship between his universe and
the Snorri illustrations allows the re-contextualisation of these illustrations within a
thoroughly global and contemporary visual culture.
The fact that that the illustrations were in all probability a source of influence for the
films means that they have now achieved an enduring impact on an international scale, in
addition to their earlier role as highly significant markers of Norway’s identity in that
country’s nation-building process in the early years of the 20th century.
1
The vast majority of the original drawings are in the Prints and Drawings Collection of the
National Museum, Oslo.
2
The article is part of a larger work for an exhibition organised by the National Museum.
3
Brian Sibley, Peter Jackson. A Filmmaker’s Journey, 2010, p. 439.
4
The Fellowship of the Ring, DVD. Extended version. Appendix.
5
“We hunted out people who were passionate about the books […] backed them up with
extensive research into appropriate periods of history. […] Our process basically started with
discussions about the subject matter, then research, then sketching, then color illustration […]
then […] three-dimensional maquettes. […] We tried to draw most of our design influences
first from Tolkien’s written word […]” Film designer Richard Taylor, in Gary Russel, The
Art of The Lord of the Rings, 2004, p. 141.
6
Russel, op. cit.
7
Film designer John Howe, The Fellowship of the Ring, DVD. Extended version. Appendix.
See e.g. film designer Jeremy Bennet: “When conceiving the environment of The Grey
Havens we were thinking of J.M.W. Turner.” Gary Russel, The Art of The Lord of the Rings,
2004, p. 61.
8
The two most important designers in the film team, Alan Lee and John Howe, were enlisted
for the production as a consequence of the extensive illustrations they had done for Tolkien’s
books in the 1990s. Their illustrations were, and are, known worldwide, and are particularly
closely associated with Tolkien’s stories in the minds of his readers. This was something
Jackson wanted to build on so as to create a world that would already feel familiar to Tolkien
fans. He also wanted to refresh the artists’ visual material, and was himself deeply involved
in the design process. Other notable film designers included Grant Major, Richard Taylor,
Dan Hennah, Jeremy Bennet, Paul Lasaine and Christian Rivers.
9
The only feature lacking in the popular edition is the margin decorations for each saga.
10
Notable examples of artists who had illustrated the sagas prior to the Snorri drawings
included, among others, Johann Heinrich Füssli, John Wiedewelt, Peter Cramer, Nicolai A.
Abildgaard, Carl Peter Lehmann, Christopher W. Eckersberg, Johan Ludvig Lund, Christen
Købke, Lorenz Frølich, Constantin Hansen, Nils J.O. Blommér, Johannes Flintoe, JeanVictor Schnetz, Fredrik N. Jensen, Evariste V. Luminais, Peter Nicolai Arbo, Ole Peter
Hansen. See David M. Wilson, Vikinger og guder i europeisk kunst (1997), exhibition
catalogue, Moesgård Museum. See also Margretha Rossholm, Nordisk Sekelskifteskonst. En
motivhistorisk og ideologisk undersøking, 1974.
“Reading Snorri and his peers was more important than reading Shakespeare, Tolkien
argued, because their books were more central to our language and our modern world.”
Nancy Marie Brown, Song of the Vikings. Snorri and the Making of Norse Myths, 2012, pp.
ix.
12
Email to the author from Rachel Griffiths, Taylor Institution Library / Bodleian Library,
Oxford University, dated 19 Nov. 2013: “We know that the book (Snorri, 1899 ed.) was
acquired in 1900, which means that it would certainly have been in the library during the
period you are interested in (1922–1959).”
13
Hammond and Scull, J.R.R. Tolkien: Artist and Illustrator (1995), p. 10.
14
The Tolkien drawing that shows the greatest similarity to the Snorri illustrations, in its use
of line and its rendition of mountain scenery, is the pen drawing The Mountain-path.
Compare this with e.g. Gerhard Munthe’s Åsmund Grankjellsson kommer over hustakene til
Hårek på utværet, from St. Olav’s Saga.
15
“[…] he seems never to have intended these for publication, or at least never suggested to
his publisher that The Lord of the Rings be an illustrated book like The Hobbit, with drawings
drawn by himself.” Hammond and Scull, J.R.R. Tolkien. Artist and Illustrator, 2000, p. 154.
16
David Day, The World of Tolkien. Mythological Sources of The Lord of the Rings, 2003, p.
178.
17
See e.g., Thomas Percy, Reliques of Ancient English Poetry, 1765; Paul-Henri Mallet,
Monuments de la mythologie et de la poesie des Celtes, et particulierement des anciens
Scandinaves, 1756. The latter work was translated to English by Thomas Percy with the title
Northern Antiquities, 1770; William Morris, The Story of Sigurd the Volsung and the Fall of
the Nibelungs, 1877.
18
Montesquieu, De l’esprit des lois, Book 17, Ch. 5; (trans.: Thomas Nugent, New York,
1900, pp. 268-9).
19
The Twin Towers. DVD. Extended version. Appendix.
20
Ibid.
21
Ibid.
22
See Christine Fell, “The first publication of Old Norse literature in England”, in E.
Rosendahl and Sørensen (eds.), The Waking of Angantyr. The Scandinavian Past in European
Culture, Aarhus (1996); and Marjorie Burns, Perilous Realms. Celtic and Norse in Tolkien’s
Middle-earth, 2005.
23
Similar to Elias Lönnrot’s attempt to construct a Finnish national epic in the Kalevala,
Tolkien wanted to construct a collection of interrelated stories that would recount England’s
epic past.
24
Ibid., footnote 1. The footnote continues: “[…] due to their circumstances: a simpler and
more primitive people living in contact with a higher and more venerable culture, and
occupying lands that had once been part of its domain”. This is expanded on in the main text
of the same appendix: “[…] when Hobbits heard the speech of Rohan they recognised many
words and felt the language to be akin to their own, so it seemed absurd to leave the recorded
names and words of the Rohirrim in a wholly alien style.”
25
Tolkien, op. cit., p. 431.
26
See also Michael D.C. Drout, “The Rohirrim, the Anglo-Saxons, and the Problem of
Appendix F: Ambiguity, Analogy and Reference in Tolkien’s Books and Jackson’s Films”, in
Bogstad and Kaveny (eds.), Picturing Tolkien, 2011. See also Thomas Honegger, “The
Rohirrim: Anglo-Saxons on Horseback? An Inquiry into Tolkien’s Use of Sources”, in Jason
Fisher (ed.), Tolkien and the Study of His Sources, 2011.
27
Brian Sibley, Peter Jackson. A Filmmaker’s Journey, 2010, p. 439.
11
28
This and subsequent quotes from Snorri are taken from Snorri Sturluson, Heimskringla. A
History of the Norse Kings, translated by Samuel Laing, Noroena Society, London, 1907.
Available online at http://en.wikisource.org/wiki/Heimskringla
29
These two drawings are the only Snorri illustrations that form a kind of cartoon strip
sequence.
30
Snorri, op. cit.
31
This and subsequent quotes are from J.R.R. Tolkien, The Lord of the Rings, Harper Collins,
2007, p. 523.
32
Ibid., p. 515.
33
Ibid., p. 525.
34
Snorri, op. cit.
35
Tolkien, op. cit., p. 362.
36
Ibid.
37
Ibid., p. 361.
38
Ibid., p. 354.
39
Tolkien, op. cit., p. 335.
40
Ibid., p. 341.
41
Tolkien, “Drafts for a letter to ‘Mr Rang’”, (1967), in Humphrey Carpenter, The Letters of
J.R.R. Tolkien, 1981, p. 383.
42
In addition, there is an occurrence of the spelling Gandalf in Snorri, in the form of “King
Gandalf”.
43
Letter from Tolkien to Sir Stanley Unwin, 1946, reprinted in The Letters of J.R.R. Tolkien,
p. 119.
44
Tolkien, op. cit., p. 504.
45
Snorri, Ynglinga Saga, in op. cit.
46
Tolkien, op. cit., p. 836.
47
Ibid., p. 837.
48
Snorri, Saga of Olaf Haraldson, in op. cit.
49
The many visual similarities between the drawing and the film image were made possible
through the use of a computer program called “Massive”, developed by Steve Regelous,
which gave greater control when designing scenes.
50
Kristin Thompson, “Gollum Talks to Himself. Problems and Solutions in Peter Jackson’s
The Lord of the Rings”, in Bogstad and Kaveny (eds.), Picturing Tolkien. Essays on Peter
Jackson’s The Lord of the Rings Trilogy, 2011, pp. 39-40.
51
Richard Taylor quoted in Robert C. Woosnam-Savage, “The Matériel of Middle-earth.
Arms and Armor in Peter Jackson’s The Lord of the Rings Motion Picture Trilogy”, in
Picturing Tolkien, 2011, p. 154.
52
Woosnam-Savage, op. cit., p. 155.
53
Thompson, op. cit., pp. 39-40.
54
As Richard Taylor says: “Another design paradigm was the need for identifiability. We set
out to create the iconographic look of each of these cultures, so when you looked at the film,
you immediately would be able to tell the difference between them.” Woosnam-Savage, p.
154.
55
Nils Ivar Agøy, Mytenes Mann. J.R.R. Tolkien og hans forfatterskap, 2003, p. 159.
56
Dan Madsen, “Update with Peter Jackson”, “The Lord of the Rings” Fan Club Official
Movie Magazine 8 (April-May 2003), pp. 22-31, in Woosnam-Savage, p. 158.
57
Ibid.