Tag: dragon

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From Grendelkin to the NorthFolk NightMarket: Storytelling, Wintering and an Immersive Dramatization of Beowulf

My newly formed theater company, FaeGuild Wonders, having successfully organized two RenFaires last year, Enchanted Orchard Renaissance Faire (annual) and Wyndonshire Renaissance Faire (year one), was ready to pursue one of my bucket-list items, an immersive and interactive full scale theatrical production of Beowulf.  We pitched this idea for a winter festival centered on medieval literature to our partnering venue, Red Apple Farm, and the NorthFolk NightMarket was born. This event, to take place February 22-23, 2025 (from 3-9 PM EST), while expanded and redesigned, is in a sense a development of an older project, Grendelkin, which I began to conceive during my graduate studies as the University Notre Dame. With support from the Medieval Institute, Grendelkin debuted at Washington Hall in 2017, bringing together scholars, artists, dancers, musicians and storytellers to create an avant-garde interpretation of Beowulf centered on issues of monstrosity and heroism in the poem.

Al and Nancy Rose, owners of Red Apple Farm, the partnering venue for the NorthFolk NightMarket. Image by Rajuli Fahey (2025).

So far as creative director, I have only done fantasy theatrical medievalism at this scale: the “Wyndonshire Wedding” at Wyndonshire and “Seeds of Wonder” at Enchanted Orchard. And don’t get me wrong, I’ll probably mostly (or always) do fantasy in my theatrical medievalism. But in the NorthFolk NightMarket, I get the opportunity to explore some of my favorite works of medieval literature in a playful, interactive and public facing way. In many ways it’s anachronistic, and as my intention is to follow certain works of literature, the fantastic is imbued into the story and the spirit of the event.

My approach to authentic medievalism expressed in public theatrical events is not to focus on historical accuracy but to bring works of medieval literature to life for modern audiences and ways that are engaging, relevant and exciting. I also feel that the performances and music which is incorporated into the event, add layers to the NorthFolk NightMarket shows. For example, there are two songs included in the Beowulf show, one sung by Frank Walker, and another by Melegie (Melanie Long) that come from my translation or paraphrase of sections of farewell. In particular, the “Lay of Sigmund” is a versification of my translation, while Hildeburh’s song is an abbreviated redaction of her experience versified and accompanied by harp.

The main plot of the NightMarket’s theatrical production is the story of Beowulf, and a dream of mine realized. Beowulf is of course the subject of my dissertation, as well as much of my published scholarship, which centers on the Old English poem and the intersection between Anglo-Latin learning and Germanic lore, as well as tensions between Christian and pre-Christian ethos and worldviews in Beowulf. I composed an original script for the poem, some of which comes directly from my translation of Beowulf, and which imbues some scholarship as well as my own critical reading in this adaptation of the story. I also strove to elicit the humor I perceive in Beowulf, though irony in the poem is a topic of much scholarly debate and discussion. The cast includes the protagonists, Beowulf (Dave Fournier), Hroþgar (Gary Joiner), Wealhþeow (Leanne Blake) and Wiglaf (Mitchell Long), as well as supporting roles and characters from stories within the story, such as Hunferth (Dan Towle), Wulfgar (Devon Barker), Hondscio (Sezo Veniche), Æschere (Bryan Fallens), Hroþulf (Jack Praino), Hildeburh (Melegie: Melanie Long), Modthryth (Sylvia Sandridge), Hygd (Elizabeth Lassy-Glazier) and the Beowulf-burglar (Richard Goulette).

The Green Sash: Sezo Veniche (Hondscio), Gabrielle Emond (Sif), Andrew Hamel (Thor), Gary Joiner (Hroþgar), Christopher Lassy-Glazier (Weland), Brawn Beserker (Tyr), and Sara Hulsberg (Freya). Image by Rajuli Fahey (2025).

The story starts with Hroþgar’s boast and the terror of Grendel, until Beowulf arrives to slay his Danish demon in Act I. Ironically, and unwittingly, the hero performs a handshake exorcism upon the monster, inspiring Grendel to flee and rip off his own arm in his terrified retreat. Grendel’s mother is in Act II, and her story is centered on the horror of maternal experience in the heroic world of Beowulf and the sorrow of mothers within poem, in particular, how Wealhþeow, Hygd, Hildeburh and Grendel‘s mother all lose their sons (or will soon lose their son) throughout the narrative, and this dread and trauma frames the act as a prominent theme in the story. By the time we get to Act III, featuring the Beowulf-burglar’s theft of the treasure-cup and Beowulf’s wrath in the dragon battle, the focus is on hoarding and the plunder economy. In this way, I emphasize my psychomachic reading of Beowulf, especially his encounters with the monsters, into a performance that highlights the ironic comedy that underpins my reading.

The Green Sash, our Viking troop for the NightMarket, celebrating a raid on Orchard Town. Image from Enchanted Orchard (2024).

The NorthFolk NightMarket is about storytelling and wintering—entertainment while holding up in a hall or homestead in the north in order to survive the harsh, cold winter season. As an event designed to become an annual tradition, the plan is to center a different medieval literature every two years, and so we selected a story frame that would be consistent each year: witches from different literary and folkloric contexts, who are together plotting an Imbolc Sabbath while they observe, interact, and tell whatever medieval tale is being told that year.

Mt. Wichusett Witches in front of the Brew Barn at Red Apple Farm. Image from the GALA Music Festival (2024).

The Witches’ Sabbath includes well-known magic women from myth and legend, including Baba Yaga (Jessa Funa), Gryla (Katharine Taylor), Befana (Kellie Carter), Grimhild (Davyn Walsh), Morrigan (Chelsea Patriss), Medea (Lauren Robinson) and the Norns (Siobhan Doherty, Chrissy Brady & Kate Saab). The story frame is the organization of the Sabbath, and especially the tensions between these witches, who wish to invoke spring, and the Snow Queen (Jen Knight) and her frost fairy court, who wish to preserve the winter. In addition to our cast of character actor witches, a local performance group is also integrated into the theatrical show, the Mt. Wichusett Witches, and they have organized two dances for the Sabbath at the end of each day, which is Act IV, the final scripted act of the event.

Nikolaus Chagnon-Brauer, assistant playwright who scripted and organized the Yule Lad skits. Image from Enchanted Orchard (2024).

Accompanying Gryla are the Yule lads, from Icelandic folklore and cultural tradition, who promise to bring a bit humor to the event. This group has a number of immersive skits right in Red Apple Farm’s store, and a high school student and my assistant playwright for the event, Nikolaus Chagnon-Brauer, has taken lead on scripting these scenes. One of the joys of organizing this event has been collaborating with Nikolaus on this aspect of the winter festival, as doing so has allowed FaeGuild to carry out part of its mission to engage young people creatively and to build a team that is multigenerational.

Skeleton Crew Theater with a green dragon. Image from Enchanted Orchard (2024).

In addition to wandering witches, fairies and Yule lads, there will be marauding trolls, thanks to the puppetry of Skeleton Crew Theater another local partnering theatre company, as well as the Celtic goddess-made-saint, Brigid (Micayla Sullivan), the German demon Krampus (Sasha Khetarpal-Vasser), and Old Norse gods and goddess, including Odin (Richard Fahey), Freya (Sara Hulsberg), Tyr (Brawn Beserker), Thor (Andrew Hamel), Sif (Gabrielle Emond ), Loki (Tom Fahey), Bjorn (Lee Mumford), Weland (Christopher Lassy-Glazier) and Hel (Kerri Plouffe), many played by members of the live theater group the Green Sash.

Our Art Team for this event, led by Art Director Rajuli Fahey, and including Sylvia Sandridge (Costume Coordinator), Micayla Sullivan (Stagecraft Coordinator), Dave Fournier (Groundskeeper), and Gary Joiner, has endeavored to construct a world derived primarily from Beowulf and folklore. There will be the mead hall of Heorot, a haunted barrow, a path of exile, a monster mere, snow queen court and a witches’ den, in addition to many other set pieces based on myths and legends surrounding characters featured at the event.

Music Director Leanne Blake (front) with FaeGuild singers (Alex Deschenes, Chelsea Patriss, Sylvia Sandrige). Image from Wyndonshire Renaissance Faire (2024).

The NorthFolk NightMarket, as with Enchanted Orchard Renaissance Faire and the first year of Wyndonshire Renaissance Faire, has been a community effort. We are blessed to have so many exceptional and creative organizers as part of the FaeGuild Wonders team. One example is our Music Director, Leanne Blake, and the FaeGuild singers, who have put organized an incredible show that weaves together all the threads of the NightMarket, and which is sure to be a highlight of the events.

Immersive Director, Michael Barbosa-MacLean, who organized the FaeGuild Players, with Jack Praino (Hroþulf) and Ayden Mel (Yule Lad: Sheepcote Clod). Image from Enchanted Orchard (2024).

Additionally, for this event, we have added a new component, organized by our Immersive Director, Michael Barbosa-MacLean and the FaeGuild players, who will be on the streets of the NightMarket to bring patrons directly into the world of the faire. Other event organizers include our Jessa Funa (Community Coordinator), Amy Boscho (Fairy Court Coordinator), Tom Fahey (Sound Manager), Tal Good (Administrative Assistant) and Siobhan Doherty (Administrative Assistant). Without such an incredible team of creative partners, this inaugural event would not be possible.

The Harlot Queens, who will be performing as Danish Women in Heorot at the NorthFolk NightMarket. Image by Harlot Queens (2024).

The NorthFolk NightMarket features a market of artisan vendors, and an array of other performers including the Harlot Queens, Shank Painters, Winds of Alluria, Dead Gods Are the New Gods, the Iconic Daring Divas, the Phoenix Swords, the Warlock Wondershow, fire spinners and more. Additionally, there will be several historical demonstrations, including two historical combat groups, Historical European Martial Arts (HEMA) and Bayt Al-Asad: Middle Eastern Combat Arts (House of the Lion), which will educate festival goers on different historical sword-fighting traditions. There will also be specialty ciders, historical cooking and blacksmith demonstrations as part of the event.

Map made with Inkarnate, designed by Rajuli Fahey (2025).

In carrying on our tradition from previous faires, our focus is on community building and sustaining the arts, and we are honored to have been supported by so many community sponsors. In particular, we would like to thank Atlantic Tent Rental (for the discount and donated tent rentals), Market Basket (for use of their parking lot), the Armenian Church of Haverhill (for the beautiful wood donated to build the Hrothgar’s meadhall, benches and throne), Central Mass Tree Inc. (for providing firewood to keep everyone warm in the cold night), Eastern Propane (for providing gas for heat lamps needed in vendor tents), Killay Timber Company (for the wood for signage), Belletetes Lumber (for wood to build the set) and Magnolia Studio (for providing the cozy rehearsal space).

Organizing public medievalism events like this has been a dream come true. And I can say with certainty that the theatrical production of Beowulf at the NorthFolk NightMarket will be unlike any theatrical adaptation of the poem, and far from the usual treatments of the poem in popular culture, as it is derived from my own criticism and scholarship (and including others’ scholarship that has influenced mine as well). As such, the NorthFolk NightMarket presents the story of Beowulf as an ironic critique of heroism rather that a glorification of a warrior ethos (especially the desire for fame, vengeance and wealth) those very aspirations that so frequently continue haunt our modern world.

Further Reading

“The Wyndonshire Wedding: Theatrical and Community Medievalism.‘” Medieval Studies Research Blog. Medieval Institute: University of Notre Dame (September 4, 2024).

“Crafting a New Kind of Renaissance Faire: Theatrical Medievalism and the Aesthetic of Wonder.‘” Medieval Studies Research Blog. Medieval Institute: University of Notre Dame (August 14, 2024).

Fahey, Richard. “Grendel’s Shapeshifting: From Shadow Monster to Human Warrior.” Medieval Studies Research Blog. Medieval Institute: University of Notre Dame (October 27, 2021).

—. “Enigmatic Design & Psychomachic Monstrosity in Beowulf.” Dissertation: University of Notre Dame (2019).

—. “The Lay of Sigemund.” Medieval Studies Research Blog. Medieval Institute: University of Notre Dame (March 22, 2019).

Griffith, Mark. “Some Difficulties in Beowulf, Lines 874-902: Sigemund Reconsidered.” Anglo-Saxon England 24 (1995): 11-41.

Gwara, Scott. Heroic Identity in the World of Beowulf. Leiden, Netherlands: Brill, 2009.

O’Brien O’Keeffe, Katherine. “Beowulf, Lines 702b-836: Transformations and the Limits of the Human.” Texas Studies in Literature and Language 23.4 (1981): 484-94.

Orchard, Andy. Pride and Prodigies: Studies in the Monsters of the Beowulf-Manuscript. Toronto, ON: University of Toronto Press, 1995.

Schulman, Jana K. “Monstrous Introductions: Ellengæst and Aglæcwif.” In Beowulf at Kalamazoo: Essays on Translation and Performance, 69-92. Kalamazoo, MI: Medieval Institute Publications, 2012.

Vinsonhaler, N. Chris. “The HearmscaÞa and the Handshake: Desire and Disruption in the Grendel Episode.” Comitatus: A Journal of Medieval and Renaissance Studies 47 (2016): 1-36.

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How to Slay a Dragon (and Reach a Public Audience)

If you ever fall asleep and wake up in a strange fantasy world, there is no reason to panic. Even if you have never rolled a d20 or published an article on Tolkien, you probably know you will be meeting your traveling party at an inn, dealing with a dragon or two, and feasting like it’s 1480 and you plan to commission a 124-folio illuminated manuscript account of your wedding that will also be printed for distribution to a wide public readership. [1] You know these things because a facsimile of the Middle Ages has been host to wizards, jinn, and paladins since Lord of Rings, since Gothic fiction, since 1000 Nights became 1001. And now you can know that medieval history holds all the answers you need to survive and triumph in a five-volume fantasy trilogy.

At least, this is the premise of my new book, How to Slay a Dragon: A Fantasy Hero’s Guide to the Real Middle Ages (Tiller Press, 2001). It is a handbook for heroes that uses fantasy tropes as allegory to teach medieval history–and a little bit about critical interpretation of sources along the way. Throughout the book, you take on the role of an illiterate peasant (a Chosen One?) called to a quest (slaying a dragon, saving the princess, figuring out what to do while the princess saves herself), and every chapter presents a common trope–the more magical, the better–as a problem to solve.

Befriending the Enchanted Forest might not be possible because enchanted forests do not exist, but Muslim and Christian rulers alike showed off their power and riches with silver forests filled with golden chirping automatons. Medieval patterns of evangelization and conversion demonstrate the exact opposite of Bringing the Old Gods Back, but the Sphinx guarded the desert outside the Fatimid capital, and Abu Ja’far al-Idrisi (d. 1251) wanted to know why. (Caliphs were more interested in staging races up the Great Pyramid and throwing torchlit parties at Giza.) If you have ever needed to survive some shrieking eels or use linguistic evidence to reconstruct Early English beacon warning systems, How to Slay a Dragon is the book for you.

From the standpoint of writing the book, on the other hand, one of the big advantages of working with an editor and sales team at a major publishing house was to see what did and did not appeal to them along the way. The ideas seem basic, especially from a classroom point of view, but the publishers’ explicit acknowledgment of them suggests both their necessity and a feeling that they are lacking in the overall public discourse on the Middle Ages.

The “medieval world”

It was vital to me to write about a “medieval world,” not just the western Europe that underlies traditional fantasy (or as I like to put it, A Fantasy Hero’s Guide to Fifteenth-Century Germany and Tenth-Century Cairo). What “medieval world” does and should mean in scholarship is constantly in flux, but I ultimately settled on a spiderweb approach: the economic and cultural networks that criss-crossed the world around the Mediterranean, with branches stretching out to the Sámi, Mali, Sumatra. My editor was thrilled that this approach acted as a counterpoint to narratives of the mythic white Middle Ages, and suggested that the push to diversify the fantasy genre has made average readers hungrier for a historical accuracy hunt in the medieval Islamic world as well.

Analyzing primary sources

Although most of the 1000-1500 word chapters bring together information from three to eight secondary sources and the occasional primary, several chapters zoom in on one or two primary sources, for example, John of Morigny’s Liber florum (“How to train a wizard”) and Bertrandon de la Brocquière’s Le Voyage de Outre-Mer (“How to cross the barren wastes”). [2] My editor thought readers would respond really well to my method of talking the reader through the source bit by bit, gradually revealing its own genre elements and how we should not take primary sources at face value.

Being specific about time, place, and origin

Because How to Slay a Dragon is essentially Medieval Studies 101 using a fantasy epic instead of a timeline as its narrative, I tried to be very specific about the time and place of every anecdote, event, or text. I was surprised at how strongly my editor stressed this point as well. But even more, she insisted that I include background information about primary sources. Once again, I think it’s a good lesson that people are hungry for firsthand access to actual medieval writing and material objects, but also to know how to understand them.

You, the hero

Throughout the process, the strength of the book’s quest through-narrative was the biggest point of contention between my editor and me. My original vision was to use the tropes as an excuse to talk about the “cool parts” of medieval history (need to cross a cursed swamp? Let me tell you about bathhouse ghosts and London’s public toilets). But the marketing team in particular pointed to the self-insert, immersive aspect of fantasy gaming (computer and tabletop) and even fanfiction, not just reading, in terms of how people engage medievalist fantasy. After all, as Tolkien himself pointed out in “On Fairy-Stories,” part of the eternal appeal of fantasy is the escape into another world–your escape.

Although the first three points are foundational to how I, a medieval historian, approach the Middle Ages, I find it significant that my editor and marketing team believe so strongly in their place in books aimed at a popular audience. And if you are interested, of course, I invite you to see an example of how they can play out in How to Slay a Dragon: A Fantasy Hero’s Guide to the Real Middle Ages.

Cait Stevenson
PhD in History
University of Notre Dame

—

[1] The text and its illuminations are translated in Jane Bridgeman, The Celebrations at Pesaro for the Marriage of Costanzo Sforza & Camilla Marzano d’Aragona (26 – 30 May 1475) (Brepols, 2013).

[2] Claire Fanger and Nicholas Watson (eds.), John of Morigny: Liber florum celestis doctrine / The Flowers of Heavenly Teaching: An Edition and Commentary (Brepols, 2016); C. H. Schefer (ed.), Le Voyage d’outremer de Bertrandon de la Broquière (Ernest Leroux, 1892).

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Yuletide Monsters: Christmas Hauntings in Medieval Literature and Modern Popular Culture

When one thinks of modern Christmas, warm images from Christ’s nativity to Santa’s midnight sleigh ride might come to mind. However, Saint Nicholas is not the only thing that goes bump in the night—Yule monsters represent another syncretized and modernized phenomenon, which corresponds to a medieval tradition that presents winter solstice as an ideal setting for monsters to emerge from the darkness of the long night. In celebration of the holiday season, my latest blog in our series on monsters will consider the tradition of Yuletide monsters and discuss some instances of Christmas haunting in vernacular Middle English and Old Norse-Icelandic sources, thereby catching a brief glimpse at a broader medieval tradition of monsters associated with the winter solstice.

Rima Staines, ‘Baba Yaga’ (2014).

Christmas hauntings have a deep cultural and literary history. One seasonal spook, the Slavic Baba Yaga—a present-stealing witch—is generally remembered today as a holiday monster, though her character has only become associated with Christmas and New Years in modern times. Another, perhaps the most famous Yule monster, is Krampus—the notorious, child-stealing Christmas demon and son of Hel (the Norse goddess of the underworld), who is still popular in modern Germany and increasingly abroad. These modern Christmas hauntings align with a robust medieval tradition of Yuletide monsters that come with the cold and specifically the long night of the winter solstice. Even Grendel in Beowulf, who notoriously terrorizes the hall of Heorot, does so for XII wintra tid “twelve winters’ time” (147) specifically. While this phrase surely refers to the monster’s yearlong assault on Denmark, it also seems to stress the dark and snowy season as the prime time for Grendel’s hauntings.

Gruss vom Krampus, 1900s greeting card reading ‘Greetings from Krampus!’

Today, I will mention three popular medieval texts—one poem and two sagas—which feature Christmas hauntings of all types, including by a green man, an undead revenant, a troll woman and a dragon.

Although most of the Christmas monsters discussed in this blog come from popular Old Norse-Icelandic sagas, the Middle English alliterative poem Sir Gawain and the Green Knight begins with a mysterious Green Knight, gome gered in grene “a man geared in green” (179), described as half etayn in erde “half-giant on earth” (140) and aluisch mon “elvish man” (681), who appears at Camelot on Christmas riding a green horse and wielding a green axe. Not only does the Green Knight come at Yule (284), he emerges in court wearing a fur-trimmed robe (152-56) and holding a holyn bobbe “holly bundle” (206) in his hand, as if he were the Ghost of Christmas Present from Charles Dickens’ A Christmas Carol.

Ghost of Christmas Present from film ‘Scrooge’ (1970) directed by Ronald Neame.

Moreover, he explicitly wishes to play a Crystemas gomen “Christmas game” (283). The passage describing the Green Knight’s arrival emphasizes his coming for the Christmas festivities, thereby linking him with the tradition of Yuletide monsters. The Green Knight declares that since there is no warrior who can match him in battle:

I craue in þis court a Crystemas gomen,
For hit is Ȝol and Nwe Ȝer, and here ar ȝep mony:
If any so hardy in þis hous holdez hymseluen,
Be so bolde in his blod, brayn in hys hede,
Þat dar stifly strike a strok for an oþer,
I schal gif hym of my gyft þys giserne ryche,
Þis ax, þat is heué innogh, to hondele as hym lykes,
And I schal bide þe fyrst bur as bare as I sitte (283-290).

“I desire in this court a Christmas game, for it is Yule and New Year, and you here are many. If any in this house holds himself so hardy, be his blood so bold—his brain in his head—that he dare stiffly strike one stroke for another, I shall give him my gift, this rich gisarme—this axe—that is heavy enough to handle as he likes, and I shall abide the first blow, as bare as I sit.”

Manuscript illustration of the headless Green Knight in British Library, Cotton Nero A.x f.94v.

Christmas stays a prominent theme throughout the poem, and it operates as a metric by which to measure time. Gawain spends the following Christmas with Lord and Lady Bertilak in anticipation of the subsequent Christmas game, when the Green Knight will deliver a return blow. Christmas feasting both begins and concludes this Middle English romance, enveloping the narrative with this holiday theme. Indeed, Christmas is mentioned nine times in the poem, demonstrating its role in framing the narrative. Yule is mentioned twice, and the first reference comes from the Green Knight himself as to the reason for his journey to King Arthur’s court.

The next text in our discussion is the Old Norse-Icelandic Grettis saga, which contains multiple Christmas haunting episodes, each featuring a very different type of Yule monster. In Grettis saga, the holiday of Yule is likewise a repeated fixture and marker of time, and Yule is referenced thirty-three times in the saga.

Grettir Ásmundarson as depicted in a 17th-century manuscript illustration, Reykjavík AM 426.

The major and most frequently discussed Yuletide haunting in the saga concerns the undead revenant Glámr, a Swedish herdsman who ignores Christmas traditions:

Nú leið svo þar til er kemr aðfangadagr jóla. Þá stóð Glámr snemma upp ok kallaði til matar síns. Húsfreyja svaraði: “Ekki er það háttr kristinna manna at matast þenna dag því at á morgun er jóladagr hinn fyrsti,” segir hún, “ok er því fyrst skylt at fasta í dag” (chapter 32).

“Now time past there until when comes the eve of Yule. Then Glámr stood up and called for his food. The lady of the house answered: ‘It is not proper that Christian men eat meat on this day, because tomorrow is the first day of Yule,” she says, “and thus they shall first fast today.’”

Glámr’s response marks him as explicitly unchristian, which may serve to foreshadow his untimely demise:

Hann svarar: “Marga hindurvitni hafið þér þá er ek sé til einskis koma. Veit ek eigi at mönnum fari nú betr at heldr en þá er menn fóru ekki með slíkt. Þótti mér þá betri siðr er menn voru heiðnir kallaðir ok vil ek mat minn en öngvar refjar” (32).

“He answers, ‘You have many restrictions, when I see no good come of it. I do not know that men fare better now than when they did not heed such things. It seems to me that the customs of men were better when they were called heathens, and now I want my meat, and no foolishness.”

Michael Davini, “Viking Village” (2011).

After his praise for heathenism, spurring caution, Glámr ventures into a known haunted region at Yuletide, and he never returns. We are told that kom hann ekki heim jólanóttina “he came not home on Yule-night” and soon we learn that he has died. After days of searching and a number of attempts to bring Glámr’s body to the church to be buried, eventually the townsfolk give up and bury Glámr where they find him, and Það drógu menn saman at sú meinvættr er áðr hafði þar verið mundi hafa deytt Glám “men drew from this, that the evil spirit which had been there before will have killed Glámr.” However, shortly thereafter, it is the undead Glámr who perpetrates Yuletide hauntings, as the saga reports:

Litlu síðar urðu menn varir við það at Glámr lá eigi kyrr. Varð mönnum at því mikið mein svo at margir féllu í óvit ef sáu hann en sumir héldu eigi vitinu. Þegar eftir jólin þóttust menn sjá hann heima þar á bænum. Urðu menn ákaflega hræddir. Stukku þá margir menn í burt. Því næst tók Glámr at ríða húsum á nætr svo at lá við brotum (32).

“A little time after men were aware that Glámr did not lay quiet. People become so greatly disturbed by this, that many fell into hysteria when they saw him, and some lost their wits. Even after Yule men thought they saw him at home on the farm. People became extremely scared.  Many men then fled. Next, Glámr took to riding houses at night, so that he nearly broke them.”

John Vernon Lord, illustration of Glámr riding roofs in ‘Icelandic Sagas’ 2, The Folio Society, 2002.

Grettir famously defeats Glámr, who is frequently associated with the Old Norse-Icelandic draugr, but not until the revenant has cursed Grettir with unceasing fear of the dark, as terrible light from Glámr’s eyes haunts Grettir until the end of his days and he becomes nyctophobic forevermore.

Another Yuletide monster discussed in the saga takes place when Grettir arrives at Sandhaug to investing a trǫllagangr “troll-haunting” (chapter 64), and he encounters a trǫllkona “troll woman” (65). This monster enters the halls of Sandhaug on aðfangadag jóla “Yule-eve” (64), and she plunders the halls during the long night:

Nú er frá Gretti það at segja at þá er dró at miðri nótt heyrði hann út dynr miklar. Því næst kom inn í stofuna trǫllkona mikil. Hún hafði í hendi trog en annarri skálm heldr mikla. Hún litast um er hún kom inn ok sá hvar Gestur lá ok hljóp at honum en hann upp í móti ok réðust á grimmlega ok sóttust lengi í stofunni (65).

“Now it is said of Grettir that when it drew towards midnight, he heard a great din outside. Then a great troll woman came into the hall. She had a trough in one hand, and a blade, rather great, in the other. She looked around when she came in and saw where ‘Guest’ [i.e. Grettir] lay and ran towards him, but he jumped up to meet her, and they wrestled fiercely and struggled together for a long time in the hall.”

John Bauer, ‘Troll Cave with Deer’ (1915).

Eventually, she drags Grettir from the hall, carries him off and tries to escape to her lair ofan til árinnar ok allt fram at gljúfrum “up to the river and all the way to the gorges” (65). Grettir is ultimately able to cut her shoulder, slicing off the troll woman’s arm, a fatal blow which sends her off a cliff and to her death. After recovering from his encounter with the troll woman, Grettir sneaks into her cave and slays her companion, a jǫtunn “giant” (66).

The final Yuletide haunting discussed in this blog comes from Hrólfs saga kraka, when a massive flying dýr “beast” (probably a dragon of some kind) threatens the hall. The cowardly Hǫttr explains how this night-terror returns during Yule to haunt the hall of king Hrólfr:

Ok sem leið at jólum, gerðust menn ókátir. Bǫðvarr spyrr Hǫtt, hverju þetta sætti. Hann segir honum, at dýr eitt hafi þar komit tvá vetr í samt, mikit ok ógurligt, “ok hefir vængi á bakinu, ok flýgr þat jafnan. Tvau haust hefir þat nú hingat vitjat ok gert mikinn skaða. Á þat bíta ekki vápn, en kappar konungs koma ekki heim, þeir sem at eru einna mestir.

Bǫðvarr mælti: “Ekki er hǫllin svá vel skipuð sem ek ætlaði, ef eitt dýr skal hér eyða ríki ok fé konungsins.” Hǫttr  sagði: “Þat er ekki dýr, heldr er þat mesta trǫll” (chapter 35).

“And as Yule neared, men became gloomy. Bǫðvarr asked Hǫttr what caused this. He said to him that a beast had come there for two winters in a row, great and monstrous. ‘And it has wings on its back and frequently flies. For two autumns now it has visited and caused great harm. No weapon bites it, and the king’s champions, those who are the greatest, do not come home.’”

Bǫðvarr spoke: ‘the hall is not so well guarded as I thought, if one beast shall here destroy the king’s realm and livestock.’ Hǫttr said: ‘It is not a beast, rather it is the greatest troll.’” 

A Winged Dragon in a bestiary, 1278–1300, Franco-Flemish. Tempera colors, pen and ink, gold leaf, and gold paint on parchment. The J. Paul Getty Museum, MS Ludwig XV 4, f.94.

This warning is quickly validated, for when jólaaptann “Yule-eve” arrives, King Hrólfr commands his warriors to stay inside and forbids them from fighting the monster, proclaiming that it is better to lose his livestock than his people. However, Bǫðvarr Bjarki sneaks into the night, dragging Hǫttr behind him, and the hero quickly slays the Yuletide monster terrorizing the kingdom. Then, at Bǫðvarr’s behest, Hǫttr consumes the flesh and blood of the beast, which strengthens and emboldens him, transforming him into a hero (in a way that recalls Sigurðr’s actions after Fáfnir is slain).

These medieval stories of Yuletide monsters participate in a robust tradition of winter-time (and even Christmas-specific) hauntings, which continued throughout the ages and manifests still today. Dickens’ Christmas Carol is perhaps one of the more memorable, with visitations by four ghosts at the home of the miserly Ebenezer Scrooge on Christmas Eve. Dr. Seuss’s Grinch renders its Scrooge-like antihero in the form of a green Christmas-hating monster bent on stealing Christmas, and Tim Burton’s Nightmare Before Christmas explores the theme of Christmas haunting when the pumpkin king and leader of Halloween Town, Jack Skellington, decides he would rather celebrate Christmas one year instead out of sheer boredom with his own holiday. Jack then proceeds to haunt Christmas transforming cozy festivities into a horror show as if he were a Yule monster of old.

Jack Skellington and Santa Claus from Tim Burton’s ‘Nightmare Before Christmas’ (1993).

More recently, in George R.R. Martin’s Song of Ice and Fire (and HBO’s corresponding TV series Game of Thrones), winter monsters known as the White Walkers (seemingly inspired by Old Norse-Icelandic revenants), led by the fearsome Night King, come with the cold in the long night to terrorize Westeros. Even Netflix’s edgy reboot of Sabrina the Teen-age Witch, appropriately retitled Chilling Adventures of Sabrina (2018), gives a nod to medieval tales of wintertime monsters when during the solstice the Spellmans place a protective candle in the chimney to prevent Yule demons from entering their home; however, this does not stop Grýla—an Icelandic giantess—from visiting during the night when the witches’ protective candle becomes accidentally extinguished.

Night King from season eight of HBO’s ‘Game of Thrones’ TV series (2018).

Yuletide continues to provide a haunting wintry setting for monster visits. Although often balanced by saccharine images of Christmas as a source of light and warmth against the cold dark, what lurks beyond the illumination of society during the long night seems to readily elicit horror in the modern—as well as medieval—imagination.

Richard Fahey
PhD in English
University of Notre Dame

Further Reading

Billock, Jennifer. “The Origin of Krampus, Europe’s Evil Twist on Santa.” Smithsonian Magazine (2015).

Carrière, Jean Louise. “Sir Gawain and the Green Knight as a Christmas Poem.” Comitatus: A Journal of Medieval and Renaissance Studies 1.1 (1970): 25-42.

Chadwick, Nora K. “Norse Ghosts (A Study in the Draugr and the Haugúbi).” Folklore 57 (1946): 50–65

—. “Norse Ghosts II (Continued).” Folklore 57 (1946): 106–127

Cereno, Benito. “The Legend of the Baba Yaga Explained.” Grunge (2020).

Fahey, Richard. “Medieval Trolls: Monsters From Scandinavian Myth and Legend.” Medieval Studies Research Blog (2020).

—. “Dragonomics: Smaug and Climate Change.” Medieval Studies Research Blog (2019).

—. “Zombies of the Frozen North: White Walkers and Old Norse Revenants.” Medieval Studies Research Blog (2018).

Firth, Matt. “Berserks, Revenants, and Ghost Seals – Surviving a Saga Christmas. The Postgrad Chronicles (2017).

—. “Monsters and the Monstrous in the Sagas – The Saga of Grettir the Strong.” The Postgrad Chronicles (2017).

Jakobsson, Ármann and Miriam Mayburd. Paranormal Encounters in Iceland 1150–1400. Kalamazoo, MI: Medieval Institute Publications, 2020.

—. “Vampires and Watchmen: Categorizing the Medieval Undead.” Journal of English and Germanic Philology 110 (2011): 281–300

—. “The Fearless Vampire Killers: A Note about the Icelandic Draugr and Demonic Contamination in Grettis Saga.” Folklore 120 (2009): 307–316.

Kirk, Elizabeth D. “‘Wel Bycommes Such Craft Upon Cristmasse’: the Festive and the Hermeneutic in Sir Gawain and the Green Knight.” Arthuriana 4.2 (1994): 93-137.

Palmer, Alex. “Why Iceland’s Christmas Witch Is Much Cooler (and Scarier) Than Krampus.” Smithsonian Magazine (2017).

Phelan, Walter S. The Christmas Hero and Yuletide Tradition in Sir Gawain and the Green Knight. Lewiston, NY: E. Mellen Press, 1992.

Squires, John. “Chilling Adventures of Sabrina” Brought Christmas Demon Grýla to the Screen for the First Time.” Bloody Disgusting (2018).

Su, Minjie. “Old Norse White Walkers? Draugr, the Walking Dead in Medieval Icelandic Sagas.” Medievalist.net (2017).

Troop, Sarah Elizabeth. “Monsters of Christmas.” Atlas Obscura (2013).

Villareal, Daniel. “These 20 Terrifying Christmas Monsters Will Haunt Your Holidays.” Hornet (2019).

Zarka, Emily. “Draugr: The Undead Nordic Zombie.” Monstrum, Public Broadcasting Station (2019).