The Influence of Old Norse Literature on English Literature — Edition Insights

Morris's Gudrun as a Test Case

Nordby devotes sustained attention to Morris's 'The Lovers of Gudrun,' arguing that the poem 'can stand on its own merits as an English poem; no excuses need be made for it on the plea that it is a translation.' He identifies the Old Norse flavor as 'purely spiritual,' not dependent on verse-form imitation, since the original saga was prose. The analysis is grounded in specific passages: Nordby quotes Morris's description of Gudrun—'Gold were the locks wherewith the wind did play, / Finer than silk, waved softly like the sea'—and of Kiartan, noting that the 'Old Norse touch' resides in lines intimating the hero's poetic skill. He contrasts this with poems in the same collection that show Chaucerian influence, positioning Morris's work as a hybrid that achieves universality while retaining local color.

The Limits of the Surviving Text

The manuscript's incompleteness is evident: the excerpts break off mid-sentence during a discussion of Kiartan's characterization, and the prefatory note confirms that 'a few pages' were never written. Nordby's argument about Morris leads into a broader claim—'the more we study this marvelous work, the more it is impressed upon us that in the reign of love all men and all literatures are one'—but the text does not develop this into a full conclusion. Readers should note that the study as published represents only a portion of Nordby's planned scope; the catalog subjects (comparative literature) are addressed primarily through this single extended example, with no surviving sections on other English authors or periods.

Biographical Frame and Scholarly Voice

The prefatory material shapes how the critical argument is received. Nordby's colleagues describe him as a teacher who 'spread the taste for beauty, both of poetry and of life,' and the study itself reflects a pedagogical clarity: it explains saga conventions for an English audience, defines terms like 'local color,' and avoids philological jargon. The epigraph from the Hávamál—'Cattle die, kindred die, we ourselves also die; but the fair fame never dies'—resonates with the posthumous publication, linking the content to the author's own legacy. Yet the scholarly voice remains detached, focusing on textual evidence rather than personal tribute.

Nordby's study rewards readers interested in the mechanics of literary influence at the level of phrase and stanza. Because the text is incomplete, its value lies less in a comprehensive thesis than in the detailed reading of Morris's adaptation—a reading that attends to meter, diction, and the transformation of saga prose into English poetry. Approaching it as a fragment rather than a finished argument allows the surviving analysis to stand on its own terms.

Some afternoons I think of Nordby's abandoned Norse study, that warmth of William Morris wrestling the Laxdæla saga into verse—unfinished, yet utterly alive. It recalls the patient joy of a quiet box score, innings unfolding like sagas. Both hold a humbling devotion to waiting, to letting stories settle. Bases full! — Inside the Classic carries that same tender patience between its covers.