Posts Tagged ‘glory’

Native Norse American Hard Cider

Saturday, August 17th, 2019

And the journey deep into the darkest…depths of Norumbega continues, with alcoholic apple-based beverages! What could be more enticing than that?

As my previous post so ineloquently explained, the myth, the legend, and the glory of Norumbega lives on in scattered locations and shape-shifting forms in the wilds of the state of Maine. Which, in a certain manner of thinking, actually kind of makes some sense, since Maine was basically once a colony of Massachusetts, which is the epicenter of Norumbega.

At any rate, this time the Norumbegan subject of focus is the Norumbega Cidery in New Gloucester, Maine. It is a quaint and lovely gård set at the edge of some dark woods that is working to bring traditional cider-making techniques back for modern Vinlandians to enjoy, including growing its own apples in its own orchard. And the cider is quite good, too. When I visited there were approximately half a dozen varieties available for sampling; the elderberry enhanced cider was a stand-out for me. They even have live music during their weekend tastings, which adds to the rural-rustic atmosphere and pairs extremely well with refreshing fruit-based beverages. It’s definitely a spot worth visiting, even if you’re not a geek of false New England Norse history.

So raise a horn and skål to Norumbega Cidery!

Heroes of Norse Proliferation: Jackson Crawford

Thursday, May 2nd, 2019

Lo there! Spring is finally back in the dark gray Norumbegan air and that can only mean one thing: that I don’t know what that one thing is, and so rather than trying to find out, I am instead updating this pathetic, little excuse of a blog. But it’s not all bad, because this update involves a rare addition to the digital hall of the Heroes of Norse Proliferation with the induction of the one (and probably only) person alive who describes himself as “like if you crossed a viking and a cowboy, but got all recessive traits:” Jackson Crawford.

I first became aware of Dr. Crawford’s work about a year and a half ago when I inducted Dr. Eleanor Rosamund Barraclough into this very same mostly unknown location on the outer fringes of obscure cyberspace. We succeeded in exchanging a few friendly messages through the digital ether (thanks be to the elves) and then she dropped an atomic Norse bomb by sending me a link to Jackson Crawford’s Tattúínárdǿla saga: If Star Wars Were an Icelandic Saga. Which is pretty much exactly what it says it is, and follows the story of the family of Anakinn Himingangari and Lúkr Anakinsson in proper saga fashion. Which is exactly the sort of thing I admire.

The aforementioned Saga of the People of the Tattúín River Valley was something Dr. Crawford penned back in his pre-Dr. days, and now he teaches Scandinavian culture and literature at the University of Colorado. He has also published his own translations of medieval Scandinavian myths and sagas (so far The Poetic Edda and The Saga of the Volsungs).

And he also provides numerous insights and valuable information about all things pertaining to Norse everything for the masses on his epic youtube channel, which is an especially potent platform of Norse proliferation. Particularly of interest (to me) is his rendition of the Hávamál in cowboy dialect since I like things that play with language in bizarre, geeky Norse ways, and his lessons and auditory examples covering the pronunciation of Old Norse. You just can’t get this type of information down at the Bunker Hill Community College.

And that makes it all the more worthy of raising a horn for a proper skål indeed!

Rekindling the Varangian Flame, Part 2

Friday, March 8th, 2019

“Send the Magyars to slaughter us all in our sleep. Slit our throats, trample our bodies, and string us up to dangle, windblown and decaying from the nearest tree.”

The upbeat positivity and general good vibes of the suicidal Viking metal death-wish music project continues as the band members of Varjagikaarti relate what happened when they finally ventured deep into the land of the Rus.

Experience the true Fennoscandian cultural insensitivity of Part 2 over at Metal Sucks now.

And for your aural pleasure, Varjagikaarti wouldn’t be what they are today if it weren’t for these guys…

And my prior interviews with other Modern Vikings are still sadly online too. Check them out if for some reason you feel so inclined. Here’s a direct link to the one about spazzing out in a Stockholm subway station:

Self-Condemned in the Tunnelbana

Rekindling the Varangian Flame, Part 1

Wednesday, February 27th, 2019

“Never have I seen a more complete denouncement of the meaning of human life than that murky, yellow obscenity that hovers above the rooftops of Miklagård like a celestial plague raining its poison down upon the feeble souls below during the darkest depths of the eternal night. It made me want to kill myself.”

And if that introductory quote doesn’t make you want to read all about the highly dysfunctional extreme Finnish metal band Varjagikaarti’s suicidal Viking metal voyage down the Dnieper River deep into the heart of old Varangian territory, then I don’t know what will.

Check out Part 1 over at Metal Sucks now.

And lest this post be wonting of a proper and thematically appropriate metal video…

And lastly, check out some of my prior interviews with other Modern Vikings too, if for some reason you feel so inclined. A couple direct links are below.

Fear and Loathing in Western Sweden

Dream Hard On

How to Dally with Whores and Lose Kingdoms

Tuesday, February 5th, 2019

“The sea was dark like iron, flecked with white horses, and with a livid band of light in the far distance. There was a biting wind blew from the north-east.

‘Wither shall we sail now?’ asked Biorn, ‘if we be not to be drowned?’

Styrbiorn answered and said, ‘We will sail North.’

Styrbiorn the Strong is a little gem of a book by E. R. Eddison that traces the epic sea-voyaging, philandering, and warmongering adventures of Styrbjörn Olofsson as he raises hell all over Sweden, Denmark, and the broader Baltic Sea region in general. An actual figure from the sagas, Styrbjörn features in the short Styrbjarnar þáttr Svíakappa and receives passing mention as a leader of the Jomsvikings in Eyrbyggja Saga and the Heimskringla, but because a proper saga was never actually devoted to his escapades (or was lost to the mists of time), Eddison decided to rectify the situation by creating one for him. This was way back in the 1920s and that version of the book has long since gone out of print, but fortunately the hearty champions of Scandinavian literature over at the University of Minnesota Press re-released it in 2011 with a new, special afterward by Paul Edmund Thomas.

Eddison was big on the sagas and even translated Egil’s Saga himself, so he was a guy who knew his source material and used it to inform much of what he wrote, both the historic fiction of Styrbiorn the Strong and a number of early 20th century fantasy novels that he wrote. His work was highly praised by J.R.R. Tolkien, C.S. Lewis, and Ursula K. Le Guin, and anyone who reads fantasy will understand that’s no small matter, so it’s a bit of a pity he that isn’t more widely known.

The novel itself is a blast to read for anyone who likes a good Viking adventure and enjoys fine, ornate word-work. But saga purists may appreciate a word of caution: this is not the taut and straight-forward, emotionally-detached story-telling of the sagas. Nor does it conform to the easy-flowing sort of narrative style typical of today’s novels. This is an old-fashioned sort of story-telling in both the styling of the language used and the way in which the content is handled, which tends towards a generally chivalric/romanticized mood more along the lines of Wagner than the harsh, medieval brutality more commonly associated with Vikings at present day. But for those who can appreciate that (or at least, don’t mind it), reading Styrbiorn the Strong is a very worthwhile venture. And anyone familiar with the Völuspá, Völsunga Saga, and The Saga of the Jómsvíkings will find even more to enjoy because those are all drawn upon in some manner as Styrbjörn journeys to and from his native Sweden.

And because Styrbjörn’s heart is always set on heading northe (as the quote up top makes clear)—back home to Sweden—and because Norse adventures, epicness, and metal go hand-in-hand, what would this post be without a lyrically appropriate video clip by the guitar-serkers of Stormwarrior?

But a few more passages exemplifying the glory of Eddison’s language are worthy of direct quotation here before condemning this post to its final resting place down at the far end of Hel-Road. For epicness’ sake.

This passage refers to a pivotal moment that occurs midway through the novel. And while the name-calling is fun, the chivalric attitude of Eddison’s writing prevails, when Styrbjörn declares (on the same page) that what he did was wholly foul and of his own doing, and really no fault of the woman whom he viciously claimed to be a whore:

“After a while Styrbiorn, still in his former posture watching the endless procession of surges, said in hard toneless accents, ‘Shall I tell thee what I did in Sweden?’

‘Am not I thy brother?’ said Biorn.

Styrbiorn said, ‘I dallied with a whore, and I lost a kingdom.'”

Eddison’s epic battle descriptions are pretty badass. This battle scene features livestock as weapons and takes place at Fyrisvellir, near Gamla Uppsala, which should ring a bell for anyone familiar with Hrólfr Kraki’s Saga:

“And now there was an evil din of cattle bellowing and horses squealing, and there was many a man slain there or trampled or maimed or limb-lopped and their array near broken, and much folk fell both of the Jomsburgers and of them that drave on the beasts.”

And this is just simply one of the most glorious descriptions of Valhalla that I have ever read:

“On a sudden our Father Odin lifted up a hand, and there was darkness in heaven all save the light of the Father’s face, and they all stood up and waited in the listening gloom. And now was a noise far off, like lashing rain among leaves in a forest, and with it a rolling as of thunders far away, and pale lightnings flickered afar and vanished and flickered again through the night. Very slowly at first, then with swift strides, it drew nearer, until the roar of the tempest was like the roar of cataracts fed to fury by a cloud-burst among mountains. The lightnings streamed in rivers of molten steel and silver from the roof-beams of that hall, which is lofty as the tent of night, and the Einheriar clashed their weapons together and shouted with a shout that was heard above the deafening thunder: ‘Hail the choosers! the storm-raisers! Hail to the shield-mays of the Lord of Spears, the Father of Ages, the Loving One! Hail to the lords of earth whom they bring to join our fellowship!'”

Bifrost Doth Beckon

Thursday, January 17th, 2019

Bifrost works in mysterious ways. Sometimes it reveals itself after a rain shower, leading to a place where gold may be plundered and leprechauns captured to be sold into slavery. Other times it takes the form of a stone cold rainbow bridge. But perhaps best of all is when it appears in the form of a beer bottle to soothe our weary souls on these cold winter nights.

I’ve actually been aware of this version of Bifrost’s existence for about a decade now, but this is the first time that I’ve ever actually encountered it in person, which for a sad individual who gets off on the combination of Norse anything with alcohol anything makes it a very special moment.

This liquid Bifrost is brought to us by those fine brewers at Elysian Brewing Company in Seattle (click the “seasonal” tab on their page if you want to read their official blurb about Bifrost). It’s a pale ale brewed for the grim and frostbitten season with some hints of spice and a nice medium level of bitterness, and really good. I enjoyed drinking it even more than I enjoyed taking the picture above to preserve its unadulterated glory for all digital prosperity. And no, I didn’t drink it straight out of the bottle, but rather poured it into my horn, as one should.

Norumbega Blót

Tuesday, December 18th, 2018

In the shadow of Leif Eriksson’s Tower at Norumbega, Vinland

Lo there did we honor the Leif the Lucky at the sacred site of his Vinland colony! Indeed, a make-shift blót was recently held to honor the colonizer of Norumbega with mead and metal along the banks of the not-so-swiftly moving Charles River. And though we made no actual sacrifices (unless the contents of a ceramic bottle of Dansk Mjød Viking Blod qualifies), Leif nonetheless did smile upon us by granting passage to the top of his tower, which is usually barred off because that is the era in which we live. Needless to say, the make-shift blót was a huge success and surely a bountiful harvest is in store for the coming year.*

The open-handed proginetor of barbaric nobility performed skaldic arts and generously bequeathed idols of Odin, Thor, and Tyr for alcoholic worship upon the altar of erroneous history

Hail Tyr! And how appropriate that this is being posted on a Tuesday—is this coincidence, or fate?

We also perfected the magical “Skull Splitter” disappearing trick

And what would a Norumbega blót be without a thematically appropriate song sung in Swedish but transcribed only in runes?

*Leif’s tower bears a striking resemblance to Frey’s most distinctive feature, so the fact that we intruded into what was supposed to be an “impregnable” stone shaft is ripe with all sorts of symbolic meaning.

‘Tis the Season for Classic American Paintings of Pagan Finnish Santa Look-Alikes

Thursday, November 29th, 2018

THE MAGICIAN AND THE MAID OF BEAUTY
“High in the sky he saw a rainbow, and on it the Maid of Beauty.” (Wainamoinen returns home on a sledge from his exile in the icy wastes of Pohyola and attempts—extremely unsuccessfully—to flirt with the most attractive woman alive in the sky.)

Normally this dreadful, little blog focuses only on the Scandia part of Fennoscandia, but since Yule is in the air (or at least the 21st century commercialized version of it is on the shopping aisles, airwaves, etc.), it seems appropriate to deviate from that rigid stance and benignly embrace the Fenno side. Which of course can only mean: The Kalevala, Finnish metal, and/or Finnish metal based upon The Kalevala. In this particular instance, it’s specifically about the Kalevelian paintings done by N.C. Wyeth in 1912 for James Baldwin’s The Sampo: Hero Adventures from the Finnish Kalevala, which is no longer in print under the original name but has been re-released by those mighty re-printers of archaic, copy-right-expired texts, Dover Publications.

Adding to the fun trivia side of things, the venerable N.C. Wyeth was also a genuine Masshole (from Needham) who not only illustrated The Kalevala, but also illustrated other great stories such as Robin Hood, King Arthur, Treasure Island, and The Last of the Mohicans, all of which are much, much better known than The Kalevala outside of Finland. And, to use the sort of parlance favored by medieval Icelandic scribes (which isn’t what this post is about, but still), N.C. also sired Andrew Wyeth in a fruitful union between the houses of Wyeth and Bockius, and thus produced a male heir to inherit his artist’s crown, which has since passed on to Andrew’s son, Jamie. Much of the art of the Wyeth lineage is on display and online at The Brandywine River Museum of Art, but N.C.’s less-Santa-like Kalevelian works are also depicted below; the phrases in quotes are words from Baldwin’s text, and I’ve provided my own clarifications in parenthetical yellow to help put it all in context.

THE HAG OF THE ROCK
“An old, old woman, gray-eyed, hook-nosed, wrinkled, was sitting on the rock and busily spinning.”
(To prevent Wainamoinen from leaving the land of the dead, the evil hag relies on the age-old trick of failed hero-capturing: spinning an insane amount of thread that her cohort, an evil wizard, weaves together into a massive and ultimately ineffective fishing net.)

THE SLAVE BOY
“Then, at length, when all were peacefully feeding, he sat down upon a grassy hummock and looked around him, sad, lonely, vindictive.”
(Ilmarinen’s slave is pissed that the kitchen-wench put a rock in his bread.)

THE GOLDEN MAIDEN
“The flames died suddenly away, and out of the vessel there sprang a wonderful image—the image of a beautiful maiden.”
(Ilmarinen gets lonely after his entire household is mercilessly slaughtered, so he uses his unworldly blacksmith skills to create what is essentially an ancient blow-up doll, except that it’s made entirely out of gold and silver.)

And last, but not least, what would a post about Kalevelian art be without an appropriate Finnish metal soundtrack to accompany it? Because nothing screams seasonal festivity and Yuletide tradition like blasting Amorphis’ epic Kalevala concept album, Tales from the Thousand Lakes:

The Most Valiant Man Who Has Ever Lived in the Destitute Housing Projects of Northern England

Thursday, October 18th, 2018

It’s not often that I discover a book so unique, so bizarre, and so badass that I choose to publicly word-vomit about it to all of the several individuals who occasionally stumble across this site by mistake, but Nutcase by Tony Williams is one of those rare exceptions. Nutcase is basically an updated, modern-day retelling of the Icelandic Saga of Grettir the Strong set predominately in the crime-ridden, brutalist housing projects of Yorkshire and the Humber. And it’s brilliant.

Anyway, the story arc follows the Icelandic original, but with necessary and clever modifications to suit the tale to its modern context. Grettir’s role is assumed by that of Aidan Wilson who, like his forebear, does not always get along well with others and partakes in numerous instances of urban violence. A multitude of characters come and go, in proper Norse fashion, and it can be a bit tricky to keep track of who is who, but readers familiar with the original will readily recognize the key plot points as Aidan evolves from unruly lad to local hero to inebriated outcast. It’d be inappropriate to divulge any specific details, but I particularly found the encounter with Glam in this rendition to be much more unsettling than in the original. And Aidan/Grettir’s last stand was perfectly updated for our media-frenzied, digital world.

The book is written with a very heavy emphasis on informal British slang, but I condone that sort of thing. How else would you end up with a beauty of a passage like this: “It was the most vicious fight you ever saw in your life, but useless too because they were both already so badly hurt. It was a bit like watching two bull sea lions gouging lumps out of one another on the rocks off Argentina, except instead of David Attenborough watching from a safe distance there was Bartholomew slumped there losing his vital signs in a pair of bloodstained Pumas.” Even if you’re not an acquaintance of Grettir’s, how can you go wrong with writing like that?

And last, but not least, some visual aids:

Park Hill Housing Estate in Sheffield, the sort of environment where Aidan Wilson spent most of his days. Compare to the image below…

Bjarg in Iceland, the sort of environment where Grettir the Strong spent most of his days. Call me biased, but I think Grettir got the better deal.

…And Now the Exhibit has Ceased to Be

Monday, October 1st, 2018

Nothing lasts forever and everything must die, even inanimate Viking museum exhibits like the one currently undergoing its own personal Ragnarok in Connecticut. But before it started its walk down Hel-Road, The Vikings Begin lived a glorious warrior’s life. The collection of primarily Vendel Period artifacts left their home in Uppsala to discover new shores and spread the story of their shaping of the subsequent Viking Age. And what better place to kick off the exhibit’s Vinland tour than Mystic Seaport, which is not only a badass historic maritime museum in its own right, but also just down the road from where Julia Roberts once served pizza back in the ’80s?

I had the honor of joining one of my brothers-in-arms and his shield maiden for the four-wheeled voyage to visit the exhibit shortly before it met its own predetermined fate yesterday. And it was a great exhibit full of authentic swords, shields, helmets, and brooches galore, as well as some nicely-done ship reconstructions, including one of that was used in the early research-and-development phase of the construction of the Draken Harald Hårfagre, which itself called into Mystic Seaport. And the multimedia bit was a cool icing on the cake: a grim but highly atmospheric video about ancient pagan sacrifice in all its corpse-painted and ritualistic black metal splendor.

And just as the world will rise again, fresh and new after utterly cataclysmic destruction brings it to an end, so will The Vikings Begin begin anew at the Nordic Museum in Seattle in just a few weeks.

Stone Cold Rainbow Bridge

Thursday, September 13th, 2018


I’ve written about Boston’s mighty Longfellow Bridge before (scroll towards the bottom of the Leif Eriksson Norumbega page if you’re curious), but I’ve never had the pleasure of actually drifting aimlessly by it in a shallow-hulled paddling vessel that could never ever hope to possibly survive a full-blown voyage across the North Atlantic. Until now.

At long last, I finally got up close and personal with those mighty salt and pepper shakers. And they are indeed both mighty and glorious. On the one hand, I lament that they don’t build bridges like this anymore, because look at that ornate stone detailing! And who wouldn’t want the prow of a Viking longship to protrude from every pier of every bridge? But then on the other hand, the Longfellow Bridge suffers from a lack of structural integrity which isn’t helped by the trains that rumble across it every few minutes. But that also has more to do with neglect and disrepair than anything else, so shame on that. But visually, it’s still going strong, and should be structurally healthy again by year’s end.

And of course what would a pointless post to a pointless blog be without an embedded link to some meaningful and topically appropriate metal?

Towards Vinland’s Black Horizons

Sunday, August 12th, 2018

So all summer long the Draken Harald Hårfagre is harrying Vinland’s coast, starting with New England and gradually making its way down towards the unsuspecting peasants who live in quaint, easily-pillagable places like Philadelphia and Washington D.C. And the norns smiled upon myself and my brothers-in-arms, as we rode our 4-wheeled short steeds to witness the ships’s arrival in Salem, MA and then again to tour its deck in Newport, RI. It’s a very impressively crafted vessel and we uniformly lamented our ill-informed decisions to keep our real jobs in lieu of conscripting ourselves to the cause. So maybe the norns weren’t that happy with us after all.

Anyway, it’s well worth a visit for anyone who gets the chance. The deck tour is inexpensive and provides the chance to view the craftsmanship up close and personal, learn how the crew lives onboard, and see which modern accoutrements have been by necessity added to the otherwise authentic ship. The Draken’s homepage has a schedule of when and where the Norsemen intend to bring their wrath before returning to Mystic, CT in October to hangout with the local Guardsmen and eat pizza while conducting ship repairs and maintenance in the winter.

Runic carvings about materials and dimensions, etc.

 

Arrival in the Witch City. Where are the shields and swords?

 

Solid wood from a fir tree

 

Huginn and Muninn watch over the vessel’s fire extinguisher and report back to Odin

 

Some good, old-fashioned Viking ingenuity

 

No trip to Newport is complete without a visit to the great stone tower famed for its role in erroneous New England Viking history

 

And what would a post to this dumb little website be without a clip of appropriately Viking themed death metal?

Longships and Mead

Saturday, August 4th, 2018

So today is National Mead Day, thank Odin! And thanks to Illinois’ own stone-carving mead-maker for imparting this wisdom, because otherwise I would probably have remained as ignorant as a giant’s hair follicle. And what better way to celebrate this holiday than by spontaneously visiting a random liquor store in the suburbs for some mead tasting hosted by the good folks from Groennfell and Havoc Meaderies?

I got all excited (like an 8 year old kid who just spent his allowance on the coolest Batmobile toy of all time) yesterday when I happened upon Groennfell’s Valkyrie’s Choice Mead completely by chance. And then also by chance, I discovered that they would be hosting this tasting event, and that it was less than half an hour away. So logic and necessity dictated the course of events that followed, and I am now one 4-pack of cranberry flavored Nordic Farmhouse Mead richer. And I was also able to try a couple of Havoc’s offerings in the process, all of which were also worthy of a horn-clinking skål. My only disappointment with this expedition was that there were only four samples to try, and that I learned that the Fire on Snow Mead (“smokey maple cinnamon mead”) is only available in the winter and at the source. But maybe that will provide an excuse to drive the chunky, 4-wheeled short-ship 3 hours north to the Colchester Mead Hall after the first snow has fallen. And is it just me or does the lower half of Groennfell’s logo strike a certain resemblance to Mjölnir? Maybe I’m just seeing what I want to see.

And on a final note, it is not only a good day for mead, but also for longships. Or more accurately, a good summer for longships, because the Draken Harald Hårfagre is plying the waters up and down the New Englandic coast all summer long. A plan to hail their vessel next weekend with a couple of my brothers-in-arms is in the works, but I sure do hope they update their schedule so we know where to go. In the meantime, this just feels entirely appropriate:

Winter Ravaging of the Theater District

Monday, February 19th, 2018

This February has been an unusually devastating month for Boston’s theater district, in all the right ways possible. First, Wardruna descended upon the neighborhood, bringing with them songs of ancient lore performed with appropriately ancient instruments like the kraviklyra and goat horn.

Then, when the smoke cleared and the dust settled, Myrkur and Enslaved sailed in to finish the job. Praise be to Odin for delivering this two-pronged sonic attack!

Now, if only Fejd could figure out a way to visit Vinland.

Heroes of Norse Proliferation: Eleanor Rosamund Barraclough

Tuesday, October 24th, 2017

It’s not often that I add new Heroes of Norse Proliferation to this shining (but sadly virtual) hall, which is probably because I’m a rather uninspired individual, but every once in a while motivation strikes and I bother to add a newcomer to the ranks of the mighty. This time the honor goes to Eleanor Rosamund Barraclough, associate professor of medieval history and literature in the department of history at Durham University in merry olde England.

Barraclough’s book, Beyond the Northlands, was released last year, and thanks to my tendency to be both trend-sensitive and timely, I just finished reading it. The book is good—definitely worth a read for anyone who spends their free time intentionally or accidentally visiting obscure blogs about Vikings. The book’s perspective is unique, and presents a solid historical overview of the Norse world by delving into the mingling of fact and fiction found in the Icelandic sagas. In addition to tracing the often highly imaginative biological origins of both men and monsters, Beyond the Northlands also presents a fresh take on the geographical limits of the known world as the Norse experienced it. Rather than just stating where the Vikings traveled to and what they did there, Barraclough herself literally followed in their footsteps, which must have been awesome. Her book discusses her own impressions of these exotic locations and the challenges/danger/excitement/etc. they must have presented to the Norse voyagers +/- 1000 years ago. It is also very accessibly written (which I condone, as mentioned in a prior hailing to Nancy Marie Brown) and full of great photos, maps, and illustrations.

So cleary, I like the book, but unlike a few of the other Heroes of Norse Proliferation, Barraclough has only written one so far (she has, however, edited another), so why include her here? Well, for starters, those other academically-oriented Heroes are all over 50, and it’s exciting to see someone comparatively new enter the field and make some serious headway. In addition to her book, Barraclough has also published a number of academic articles on Norse matters, and has branched out into more mainstream outlets as well, which is great for proliferating Norseness. This is primarily occurring in the UK, with BBC having produced radio shows featuring her discussing her work, such as the Supernatural North episode, and various British newspapers having published a few of her general interest articles relating to Vikings. You can find a full list of these if you click on the link attached to her name at the top of this page, which you should do, while also raising your horn and skåling in salute!