#Icelandic lit

[soracities]

Coral, spread fingers, birch twigs, a loosely knotted fishing net, crystals, river deltas, ivy, mackerel clouds, women’s hair…diverse as these phenomena are and formed from opposing elements, nevertheless they all revolve around the invisible joints, their opposite forms touch even though they are far apart…and if I imitate their form, reaching my arms to the sky—moving them together and apart in turn, waving them to and fro—then [I am] no longer alone…I am the brother of all that divides, all that curls, all that intertwines, all that waves…

Sjón, From the Mouth of the Whale (trans. Victoria Cribb)

[ardley]

Inside an iceberg carved off the end of a subglacial volcano. Southern Iceland.

Photographed by Freddie Ardley

[shiroganejpg]

the prompt was "den finally gets little a money and nor pickpockets him Immediately"

[nefja]

She's such a good sport helping me learn studio photography

[itty-britty-blog]

This seems like a good time to remind the world of Makt Myrkanna, or Powers of Darkness, the insane Icelandic Dracula fanfic by Valdimar Ásmundsson that managed to pass itself off as just a regular translation for OVER 100 YEARS and no one noticed.

Anyway, it’s a great read, check it out

[red-ibis-red]

She came, at last, to the cave. She rested just inside it, then took from out of her dress a fish head and laid it at the entrance to the cave.

"Let us live," she begged. "Let Helgi have luck with the fishing.”

—W.D. Valgardson, What The Bear Said: Skald Tales of New Iceland, “Sigga’s Prayer”

[dying-suffering-french-stalkers]

Hey people who have experience and know things, how stupid would it be to pursue a master's degree in something as up-my-alley but niche as Medieval Icelandic Studies (assuming they even let me and my French BofA B.A. into the program)?

[kominfyrirkattarnef]

going to goodreads after finishing a well-recieved book that I personally disliked and absolutely vaccuming up the one star reviews.

[2022dirt]

The Strokkur geyser in Iceland right before it erupts.

[apod]

2024 February 25

A Phoenix Aurora over Iceland Image Credit & Copyright: Hallgrimur P. Helgason; Rollover Annotation: Judy Schmidt

Explanation: All of the other aurora watchers had gone home. By 3:30 am in Iceland, on a quiet September night, much of that night's auroras had died down. Suddenly, unexpectedly, a new burst of particles streamed down from space, lighting up the Earth's atmosphere once again. This time, surprisingly, pareidoliacally, the night lit up with an amazing shape reminiscent of a giant phoenix. With camera equipment at the ready, two quick sky images were taken, followed immediately by a third of the land. The mountain in the background is Helgafell, while the small foreground river is called Kaldá, both located about 30 kilometers north of Iceland's capital Reykjavík. Seasoned skywatchers will note that just above the mountain, toward the left, is the constellation of Orion, while the Pleiades star cluster is also visible just above the frame center. The 2016 aurora, which lasted only a minute and was soon gone forever -- would possibly be dismissed as a fanciful fable -- were it not captured in the featured, digitally-composed, image mosaic.

∞ Source: apod.nasa.gov/apod/ap240225.html

[maniculum]

Pinned Post, or, What Is This Blog Exactly?

Given the recent influx of new followers, I figure I had better make us a pinned post so people know who we are and what we're doing. Because, as much as I enjoy just posting whatever, this is a podcast account and people should know that. Especially if they like weird medieval stuff, as that is our whole deal.

The Maniculum, available wherever you normally get your podcasts, is a show where we read medieval literature, make jokes about it, and then suggest ways to adapt it into TTRPG material (or other forms of storytelling). We try to pick especially strange medieval texts, most of which you would be unlikely to come across in your typical medieval-lit survey course, though we have done a few well-known ones (most notably our series on Egil’s Saga).

It’s hosted by Zoe and Mac. (This is Mac typing now; I do most of the Tumblr posting. Zoe sometimes posts as @meanderingmedievalist.) Both of us are medievalists with like degrees and stuff, so we at least kind of know what we’re talking about when we discuss medieval literature. Mac is in grad school, most of the way through a PhD. Zoe finished her MA a few years ago and got a job working on video games – she did narrative design on Pentiment, if you’re familiar with it.

The general structure of the podcast is that one of us (we take turns) chooses a text and reads / paraphrases / summarizes it for the other, who responds to it with comments & questions & jokes & digressive tangents. Then we close with a series of segments where we pull interesting features, ideas, etc. from the text for potential use in your TTRPG / storytelling projects.

If you want to check out the show but don’t want to start at the beginning where you have to listen to us figure out what we’re doing (the audio on the first handful of episodes is a bit rough, for instance), here are some suggestions:

Our 2022 Halloween special (link here), where we read a selection of medieval stories about undead creatures.

An episode (link here) about the dragon Fafnir and the famous slaying thereof.

The Story of King Constant (link here), a fairly short and obscure tale from medieval France. (The episode is still a normal length; the story is short enough that the full text fits comfortably into a single episode with no summarizing needed.) I include this one because I feel it’s a good self-contained representation of what we do.

The first episode (link here) of our two-parter on the Peasants’ Revolt, released to commemorate May Day 2023.

Lanval (link here), one of the most widely known stories by Marie de France. This is also good as a self-contained episode, and it's a story that may be familiar to you already.

And if you want to jump into a series:

The first episode (link here) of our seven-part series on the highly-regarded Icelandic text Egil’s Saga, about a Viking warrior-poet who is also kind of a dick.

The first episode (link here) of our ten-part series on Perlesvaus – our longest series on a single text so far, wherein we work through what might be the weirdest Arthurian romance out there.

If this just popped up on your dash, sorry for the long self-promotional post. Hope you come check us out. New episodes every other week.

[soracities]

“[Snorri Sturluson] says in his Skálda, or Handbook of Poetry:  ‘It is a metaphor to call the sword a serpent and name it rightly, so that the sheath is its path and the baldrics and fittings its skin. That is to stay true to the nature of the serpent, for it slides out of its skin and also to water [...] A metaphor is thought to be well conceived if the notion that has been adopted is maintained throughout the verse. But if a sword is called a serpent, and later a fish or a wand, or changed another way, people call it monstrous and regard it as spoiling the verse.’  Balderdash, I say, let the sword turn into an adder and the adder a salmon and the salmon a birch twig and the birch twig a sword and the sword a tongue…Let it all run together so swiftly that it cannot be separated again.

Sjón, From the Mouth of the Whale (trans. Victoria Cribb)

[ardley]

Iceland

Photographed by Freddie Ardley

[natequarter]

some random (mostly modern) headcanons about the ghosts:

julian is mildly allergic to dogs

robin is an astrophysicist with a background interesting in linguistics. due to adhd he tends to start learning languages on a whim. his current project is icelandic

julian and margot divorced because they both discovered the other person cheating on them at the same time

much like julian, thomas cannot be in the same room as a dog for long. it's not allergies, though, dogs just hate him. or they love biting off his nose. it's not clear

humphrey's father died in a car crash when he was a teenager, leading him to inherit a lot of wealth at a young age. whenever anyone tries to offer their condolences, he casually tells them that he hated his father (the feeling was mutual)

thomas is a lit student doing his degree on nineteenth century romantics. nobody knows why he has beef with a poet who's been dead for more than two hundred years, and at this point they're too afraid to ask

fanny is outraged when she discovers her husband has been evading taxes behind her back because she knows she could've managed the numbers better (and he didn't think to tell her!)

she's also very good with photoshop. julian is terrified that a) someday she'll use photoshop against him or b) she'll use her connections to get in him in trouble. or c) she'll yell at him, which is even worse

kitty really likes fizzy sweets

and pink dresses

and gore

she wants to become a surgeon one day

the captain's wardrobe is just the same turtlenecks in a few different colours (read: grey, green, and black)

nobody actually knows shit about the captain or robin's pasts, they both just sort of turned up one day

humphrey once lived in france and spain for a few years. he picked up spanish, but not french, because he can learn any language just fine... except french, for some reason

alison keeps on trying to drag her mates into her insane schemes to win the war against her neighbour

They Do Not Work

everyone is slightly terrified of her. except julian, who's decided to mentor her

yikes

[devouringbodies]

Missing Hannibal so much hours so here's some s4 musings and contemplations (even though I don't Actually want a s4, but I do, but I don't, but I'd do, so let's just pretend)

YES to locations in Cuba/Latin America, bright, saturated colors like in the first few episodes but instead of fall it's very clearly summer for the first time ever in the show. I just love this as a contrast to the forever winter the show seems stuck in.

Along with that, maybe contrasting back to Jack and the FBI back in the states still stuck in the winter?? Another allusion to Will and Hannibal being "free" together in some regard in their warmth.

Also With This mayhaps Margot and Alana somewhere in a safe house in Norway or Iceland somewhere.

Wound care flashbacks to after the fall, Will is the one who saves Hannibal from the water, forcing him to consciously make the choice for them both to live.

Will in turn struggling with the ramifications of having made that decision.

DOMESTICITYYYYYYYYY

Hannibal in linens. Will in hideous button ups. period.

I have this vision of an opening into s4 of a brightly lit saturated scene of a needle dropping onto a record, there's breeze coming in through sheer curtains from an open window, segue into a beloved familiar cooking montage, but the tones are different, the lighting is brighter, the kitchen, accents, and utensils are markedly more Spanish in design, shots of forearms and hands wielding knives, slapping meat on cutting boards, everything we're used to, but pull back, and its Will cooking, as familiar in this kitchen as anything, as he brings two plates out and serves both him and Hannibal, the latter of the two sitting at the table ready and beaming.

This is the song the needle drops and is playing through that above scene btw.

Scenes of Will at a farmers market speaking Spanish to vendors please. For science.

Therapy scenes and talk 2.0 only this time it is more Hannibal discussing and learning to express what he wants, what he desires, and Will entertains him and uses his empathy to barrow on Hannibal's psychotherapy techniques to help Hannibal express and "cultivate" these urges he has. I.e, that he wants to go hunting again, and wants it with Will.

Will, who's using these sessions as a distraction, is actually also DESPERATELY craving this too. I'm talking Will is full blown Dexter urges to kill feels it under his skin now, but of course, doesn't want to admit this, and is doing everything in his power to distract and hold it back, maybe even hallucinating a few familiar faces about it along the way.

Sex scene that is literally just almost entirely insanely close up shots of teeth and skin and mouths, hands and flesh, so close most of the time you can't even tell what's going on, it's so abstract, so soft and slow, before it gets increasingly suddenly violent, flashes in between tender love nips suddenly cut with skin ripping and tearing, teeth rending, chewing, swallowing, the music turns dark and terrible and quickens, and finally an enormous horrific wide shot of just them in a bed and there's blood literally everywhere, blood pouring down the walls, camera at the foot of the bed as it pans down and you just see blood continue to splatter the headboard as they slip from view.

That's all I got rn, just some stuff for fun.

[kirythestitchwitch]

Klaroline WIP Wed - Freaky Friday Time Travel AU - Klaus is a Master Baiter

It's been a while since put some of this out but i've been working on my plot issues and writing so here is some FFTT! as always @galvanizedfriend your tag!

Part One here Part Two here Part Three here Part Four here Part Five here

Pulling down a pink jacket, she wondered as she slipped it on if she’d be breaking any time laws if she brought it home with her. Shoes on, she went in search of Klaus.

The bedroom opened on a hallway lined with paintings with two closed doors and a staircase at the end, which curved around down to the landing. A living room was through one doorway, a kitchen and dining room through another. Klaus’ voice, sharp in tone, came from behind a door to the left that was cracked a smidge, and she padded quietly to the door to listen.

She needn’t have bothered, first off, he was speaking a language she wasn’t familiar with, and secondly, the moment she got within range of the door, he called out to her. “Caroline, do come in, love.”

Only slightly annoyed, she pushed the door open. The room was some kind of study or office, with a desk in the middle of the room and a couch over by the window and a corner fireplace, currently lit and casting patterns of light on the built-ins filled with books and small trinkets. A tumbler of some amber liquid in one hand, Klaus gave her a small smile, a phone held to one ear. It sounded like he was speaking maybe Icelandic or oh! probably Old Norse. She caught Kol's name flung out with irritation before he switched to English.

“I aim to enjoy time with my wife after that mess with the ifrit in Tehran that you elected not to join us for.” Klaus gestured to her to make herself comfortable, and trying not to think about how many times her future self had probably fucked Klaus on it, she sat down on the couch. Really tried not to think about it.

Looking at the firelight playing across Klaus' body, the jumble of necklaces tumbling over the neck of his shirt, Caroline very privately had to guess it was a lot of times for the couch. 'Stop that,' she told herself, 'You're with Tyler, and none of this has happened yet. You could make it all not happen.'

Kol's voice, heard by Caroline only once or twice before this, came through the phone clear to her hearing. "I knew you had it in hand, Nik. What's one teeny little fire spirit to the Original Hybrid?" His tone was mocking of Klaus' self-aggrandized title, and Caroline had to admit she was starting to see a future where maybe they could be friends, she and this nutjob brother of Klaus'.

"I don't suppose any of the Bennett witch's books happened to mention they're eight feet tall? Hmm?“ Klaus' voice was the epitome of murderous intent; he calmly took a drink, the corner of his mouth curling mischievously into a dimple that spoke volumes about how much he was enjoying leading his brother on.

”Uh. Eight feet? Really, they uh. Made them seem kind of... tiny.” Kol finished lamely. “We're at the Greek house for the month, don't have all the grimoires, you see.”

“So you've mentioned. I'll be sure to inform Caroline of your incompetence, little brother.”

“Caroline?” Kol's voice turned a little sharp. “She's okay, right? Nothing... happened?”

“Caroline's fine.” Klaus' voice was terrible and final, and for once Caroline thought he was speaking from the heart, like he was saying she would be fine because he willed it so.

“Nik, now just—”

“Like I said.” Klaus did a good impression of gathering himself. “I'd like to indulge in my wife without the family making a nuisance of themselves. Stay out of Brazil for the next month if you know what's good for you.” He hung up the phone.

“We're going to Brazil?” Caroline asked. She wasn't sure if that was a good thing or not. The part of her that desperately wanted to see the world was thrilled. The other part of her that was already freaking out from being in Paris didn't know if going to a second location was a good idea.

Klaus smiled. “No, we're going to the library. Kol is going to Brazil.” Beckoning with one hand, he pulled her to her feet. Pinching the edge of the fabric between two fingers, he gave her jacket a small tug. “Excellent choice, will blend you in nicely, and you look lovely.”

Caroline beamed at him, and he licked his lips, sighed almost regretfully, and then turned away, draining his glass and setting it on the desk. Tapping a touchscreen in the corner of it, the fire went out, and Klaus waved at her to follow him. Feeling a little off-kilter, she did.