JOANNE M HARRIS The Gospel of Loki. Reviewed by Folly Gleeson
From Chaos to Asgard: in this novel by the author of Chocolat the notorious Scandinavian trickster, Loki, gets a chance to tell his story.
The tales of the Norse pantheon must float near the top of the reservoir of myth, so many writers and artists have made use of them. Wagner’s Ring Cycle, Gaiman’s American Gods, the recently released Marvel blockbuster films featuring a fractured buddy relationship between Loki and Thor, are just a few of the many retellings of the Icelandic tales of the Scandinavian gods based on the traditional poems first collected by Snorri Sturluson in the 13th century into the Prose Edda.
Now Joanne M Harris has skilfully taken these tales, which after all are really just a series of episodic adventures, and turned them into a string of important events in the life of Loki, the red-haired trickster god, using the richly amusing stories to give us an insight into the reasons for Loki’s twisted character traits. In this version of the myths we see Loki as a complex amalgam of sulky adolescent, lecherous mid-lifer and volatile half-cocked flame-thrower. He did, after all, come to Asgard at Odin’s instigation from Chaos.
This clever and brilliantly written psychological take, with Loki as narrator, enables Harris to tie the disparate stories into a convincing examination of why he behaves so selfishly, so erratically and so cleverly. In the original tales we just learn how he behaves; here we can see his motivation more clearly. He is represented as modern, indeed, something of a hipster:
Welcome? Hardly the welcome that Odin had led me to expect. And in spite of Balder’s efforts to make me into one of the boys – to rope me into sporting events, to introduce me to unmarried girls, to generally encourage me to let my hair down and ‘chillax’ – I could tell that most of Asgard despised me.
… If Freya got a spot on her nose, it was always Loki’s fault. If Bragi’s lute was out of tune, if Thor lost one of his gauntlets, if someone farted audibly during one of Odin’s speeches – ten to one I’d get the blame.
Harris writes compellingly to create our appreciation of Loki’s psyche. I can’t stress enough how masterfully she reveals his thoughts. We are seduced into a shamefaced understanding, even admiration, for his chaotic and very immoral ways. As the narrator, he reveals both his motivations and the actual stories from Icelandic literature, which are represented faithfully, so if one is unfamiliar with them, one can learn a great deal. But with the added glamour of Loki’s personality we get so much more. Loki is witty, amusing and fun – it is true that bad boys are more attractive; I certainly enjoyed getting to know him. His tone moves from spitefully perceptive accounts of his tricky adventures with the other gods to an increasingly sulky description of his rejection by them, as well as glee at their suffering. The nine worlds and the denizens who live in them are vibrantly represented as well; Loki is a very observant narrator. There is, however, a darker narrative. Loki’s personal trajectory is like icing covering the slow doom coming to Asgard and the nine worlds.
This doom is revealed in the poetic words of an Oracle, and Harris uses a seemingly explicit but really very equivocal poem to frame the final days and the coming of Ragnarok, the twilight of the gods.
Many theorists of religion suggest that we create our gods as a projection of ourselves. The Norse pantheon certainly seems like a dysfunctional family, full of selfish, often stupid, innocent as well as vindictive fools; but as the story comes to its blazing end, Harris uses Loki’s words to show us the glory and might of the tribe under pressure when Odin appears on the Bifrost, the bridge connecting the worlds:
And now, a figure came to stand halfway across its narrow expanse. Odin in full Aspect; spear in hand; colours flying. Sleipnir stood by him, in giant Aspect, his eight legs spanning the sky like a spider’s web; a nimbus of flame around them both gave them a twin corona. I had to admit that at that moment there was something magnificent in the Old Man; something noble and melancholy that might almost have touched my heart – that is, if I had one.
This is such an adroit and interesting retelling of the myths. There is something very appealing about change in the face of smug order. Maybe there is a deeper thread here, too, about the real need for the refreshing winds of chaos – now and then. The poem at the end certainly gives a rich summary of the tales, while it also offers a great deal of hope.
Joanne M Harris The Gospel of Loki Gollancz 2014 PB 320pp $29.99
Folly Gleeson was a lecturer in Communication Studies. At present she enjoys her book club and reading history and fiction.
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