Hakon Of Rogens Saga Haugaard Erik Christian by Haugaard, Erik Christian 9780816681273, 0816681279 instant download after payment.

YOUR DOG, your horse, your friends, and you, yourself: all shall die. Eternally live only your deeds and man’s judgment over them.” This was the credo of the Vikings — the lonely heroes ever watched by the future, ever composing their own sagas. From manhood unto death, they were players upon a public stage that stretched from the northern tip of Norway west to Greenland, east to Nizhni-Novgorod, and south to Constantinople, which they called Mikkelgard.

They were not a nation; Norway had more kings than all of the countries of Europe have today. They were a group of poets who, according to their own taste and ability, were composing epic poems out of their lives.

Their gods fitted them: Odin and Thor, father and son, Gods of Battle and Brutality. Freya, the Goddess of Love; and Frig, who guarded the apples from which the gods ate to keep their youth eternally. The Vikings had many gods, for their poems were long and well written. Loki, the God of Evil: the God of the Broken Promise, whose symbol was the fire; and Balder, the God of Goodness, who, swordless, was to inherit the world, when all the other gods had died.

They were not romantic heroes, for the romantic hero is but a dream — a paper doll cut with a pair of embroidery scissors. They were intensely alive; their minds and bodies were linked together, as Achilles’ and Hector’s were.

In Hakon of Rogen’s Saga, I have attempted to tell the story of a boy who lived at the end of the Viking period. It was not written for “youth,” in the sense that I have blunted my pen before I started. I abhor those writers who have not the skill to keep the attention of adults, and therefore think themselves equipped to write for children. I have done my best, and I leave you to be my critic.