Ivar’s Tale

[Adapted by Jim Cyr from “Ivar’s Story” found in Hrafnkel’s Saga and Other Icelandic Stories,
Translated with an introduction by Hermann Palsson, Penguin Books, 1971]

    There once was a time when my heart was broken. Broken by a man who stole…who stole my wife from me. This story brought healing to my heart and caused me to become a storyteller. It’s called “Ivar’s Tale,” but I call it “My Story.” And it goes like this…

There was once a famous poet and storyteller from Iceland who own fame in the court of the king of Norway, the court of king Eystein. Now the king thought much of young Ivar and did many favors for him and for his brother Thorfinn, who also lived in the court of the king. But Thorfinn was jealous and unhappy. For he thought that his brother was getting all the glory and that his gifts were going unnoticed. So Thorfinn decided to return home to his native country of Iceland.

Before Thorfinn left Ivar asked him to carry a message to a young woman called Oddny. The message was that Oddny was to marry no one until Ivar returned in the spring. Well Thorfinn left and he had a good journey. He returned to Iceland and met Oddny, and he himself asked Oddny for her hand in marriage. So when Ivar returned in the spring, he found that his brother…his brother, had married the woman that he loved. Ivar was filled with sadness and bitterness and he returned to the court of the king a brokenhearted and bitter man.

Now everyone in the court, and especially the king, noticed the change in young Ivar. The joy in his singing had disappeared. The enthusiasm in his stories had waned. Ivar was a sad person. One night, after the meal was over. The king called Ivar to his seat, and in a low voice so no one else could hear he said, “Ivar…Ivar…tell me, what troubles you?” “I’m sorry, my lord,” said Ivar, “I am unable to discuss it.”

The king knew something deeply troubled Ivar so he said, “All right then Ivar, I will guess. For I know that something troubles you and I want to get to the bottom of it. Tell me Ivar, is there someone in this court whose presence offends you in some way?” Ivar looked at the king and shook his head. “No, my lord.” “Well then,” the king demanded, “Do you think you are not given enough honor?” Again, Ivar shook his head, “no.” The king kept right on with his questions. “Tell me Ivar, is there something in my land you desire?” “No my lord,” Ivar said. The king pressed Ivar further, “Is there a house or an estate you long for?” Once again, Ivar shook his head. Then, seeing that the issue was one of a woman. The king looked into Ivar’s eyes and said, “Is there a woman, perhaps in your own country that you long for?” Ivar fell silent and the king knew he’d asked the right question. Ivar shook his head, “yes.”

“Well, then Ivar. There is no problem with that. I am the mightiest king in this part of the world and no one would dare interfere with my wishes. The next ship that leaves for Iceland will have you on board and you shall carry a message from me to the young girl’s parents stating that it is my wish that the two of you be married. And no one in Iceland, or anywhere else in the world, would dare interfere with the wishes of king Eystein!” Ivar looked at the king and said, “My lord, not even that will help.” “Do you mean she is married already?” the king asked. “Yes, my lord, Ivar said.

“Well then Ivar, we’ll have to think of something else. The next time I make my rounds of the countryside, and visit the villages and towns and castles, I’ll take you with me. In our travels we’ll meet many beautiful women and perhaps your heart will find one to meet its deepest longings. Ivar’s eyes filled with tears and he said, “Oh no my lord, not that! For every time I see a beautiful woman she reminds me of Oddny and my grief…I cannot bear it.”

"All right,” said the king, “let’s try something else.” “I know! I’ll give you land, a huge estate. It will keep you busy with the farming, the livestock, and all the business matters. With your hands full of the work that needs to be done you’ll soon forget about the woman and your old joy will return to you.” “But, my lord, I have no ability, no desire to farm,” said Ivar. “Hmm,” thought the king. “Then I’ll give you money, a huge sum of money so you may travel wherever your heart wishes to travel, to the furthest corners of Europe if you wish. In your travels you’ll have many adventures. When you’ve experienced all these things you will forget about your troubles and be happy again.” Ivar once again shook his head and said, “I have no wish, no desire, no ability to travel.”

The king fell silent. He was unable to come up with anything to help Ivar in all his sorrow. After a time the king said, “Ivar, there’s only one last thing I can think of. It’s a weak suggestion compared to the others I’ve made but perhaps it will be of some help to you. Ivar, each night, after the meal is over, and the tables have been cleared and the business matters of state have been taken care of, I invite you to come here, to my throne, and to tell me the story of your feelings of love for this woman Oddny. And I will be here to listen to you for as long as you need.” Ivar thought for a moment and then he agreed to the king’s proposal.

So that night and each night after that one, Ivar came to the throne of king Eystein, and there he told him his story. He told him his story for days and weeks and many weeks. And each night after Ivar finished telling his story, the king would never let him leave without a small token of his love and care for Ivar. So each night after his story had been told the king would give Ivar a handshake, and a hug, and a small but meaningful gift.

And as the days turned into weeks and the weeks into months, Ivar found he had told his story. And when he had told his story his old joy returned to him. So Ivar began once again to sing and tell stories, those ancient stories that the Scandinavians love so dearly. So Ivar became once again not only a famous poet and storyteller in the court of the king, but Ivar became a happy man.

In the year that followed Ivar met a young woman from Norway. The two fell in love and became one. So Ivar and his wife spent the rest of their days in the court of the king, happy, and telling stories.

    I’ll never forget the first time I heard that story. I was living alone in a little twelve by twelve efficiency apartment after my separation from my first wife. I was standing at my ironing board ironing a pair of pants for work, listening to a tape called “Storytelling For Self-Discovery,” by Dr. Robert Bẻla Wilhem. When I heard the story of Ivar I put my iron down on my ironing board, sat down on the edge of my waterbed, put my face in my hands, and wept. I wept because I knew…I KNEW, that I had heard MY story. For you see, I had been telling the story of my broken heart to a man who became for me the ear of my heavenly King. And in telling my story to my King my old joy returned to me. About a year after hearing the story of Ivar for the first time I had the privilege of telling the story back to the man who had told it to me. So the story went full circle, from teller to listener to teller, and in its circle it left my heart mended and me a storyteller.