Feuds and Arguments

There is a subtle difference between the Vatnsdaela Saga and the Ponnivala story when it comes to feuds. The Icelandic tale does not appear to contain any kinship-based feuds per se while the Ponnivala story does. In the former every hero from Thorstein The Elder’s father Ketil all the way down four generations of men to the lifetimes of Thorstein The Younger and his brother Jokul, each man kills some other man either in a raid or in a dispute of some kind. In almost every violent encounter, furthermore, the Saga describes the men in the heroes’ family as being on the side of justice while their adversaries are depicted as thieves, sorcerers or wild men of some kind. Each of these encounters is, by-in-large, a black and white affair. Right and wrong are easily separated and the hero’s actions are on the side of right. And notably, these are not family feuds in the sense of one lineal cousin fighting another or even of one clan struggling against another related to it via a common male descent line. Almost every encounter is between two individuals, or else describes one brave hero taking down several challengers unrelated to him, at one go.

The Ponnivala story does describe a feud in which male members of the same lineage go after one another in a violent manner through several generations. Here an argument about territory is generated by an unequal initial division of land that occurs at the very start of the story. One brother, the eldest named Kolatta, gets the best and largest allotment while his eight younger brothers have to make due with a smaller and less desirable second parcel. The clansmen who are descended from these initial eight brothers nurse a grudge about this matter and try to get some land back. This causes raids and attacks from both sides, ending only when the key hero in the third generation, Shankar (and his assistant Shambuga), kill off the remaining male members of his cousins’ line during a grand fight that takes place inside the ruling (Chola) monarch’s palace. The image here shows one of these attacks on these cousins that takes place inside a school house on their own (undisputed) territory. Not only is this feud nasty, it is also not black and white. Both sides have a reasonable point of view and it would not be easy to argue that either is completely “in the right.”

In the Vatnsdaela case an on-going enmity develops between two men that begins at a wedding between a son in the Borg line and a girl from Ingimund’s family. Just before the ceremony Bergur the Bold of Borg appears to insult Ingimund (both chief and host of the wedding) by shoving him. The anger generated by this insult lasts long beyond the wedding day. Finally a duel between the two sides is proposed but the weather is terrible and the Borg side (supported by a man named Finnbogi) fails to show. Jokul, the heroic son of Ingimund, then goes to Finnbogi’s sheep shed, drags a post taken from there out to a nearby horse field, sets it upright in the ground, kills a mare and then impales its corpse on that post as a vengeful act intended to shame his foe. Perhaps this can be classified as a kind of in-law feud that was focused on one “bad” apple (Bergur the Bold of Borg) who had Finnbogi as an ally. Most of the arguments described by the Saga, however, center on thieves and people skilled in negative magic. These are not, at their core, arguments over equitable land division. Instead they have to do with killing off of bizarre or unwanted members of society or else with pushing them entirely out of the Vatnsdaela region. Either way, these acts clear out unwanted persons and appear to “cleanse” the homestead valley of any further negative impacts that might flow, in the future, from their presence.

The Ponnivala story is much less about individual “undesirable characters” and much more about the struggle for dominance between three core social groupings: farmers, artisans and tribal hunters. These communities are not treated as castes so much as they are described as representing basic socio-economic clusters of people. One artisan is singled out for his treachery (and also one Chola king), but other than that non-kinsmen tend to confront the heroes as undifferentiated social groups. Take the example of the artisans. They were deprived of their land early on in the story and an unfair “contract,” detailing certain formalized payment amounts for labour supplied, was then imposed on them. No wonder they are angry. Neither the farmers not these craftsmen have a monopoly on the “right” or the “good” in this matter. Similarly, forest hunters in the Ponnivala story are more or less an undifferentiated group of adversaries. With the exception of their unmarried sister Viratangal and one named leader (Kaliappan) these men are just one big cluster of fighters. They too have a reasonable grudge: the farmers have destroyed much of their former forest habitat and its varied animal population(s). Again there is no obvious black and white position one can take in this ecological disagreement: Farmers are important in medieval society and so are forests. Taken in this way it is possible to argue that the Ponnivala epic presents a more sophisticated look at society and its many woes than does the ethically simpler Vatnsdaela story.

~ Brenda E. F. Beck

Women Versus Men - PART 2

The Vatnsdaela story mentions several female fortune tellers, the most prominent being the Finish woman Finla. She has the power to steal and then bury a gold ring belonging to Ingimund, using it to mark the place in Iceland where she foretells he will build a future homestead. Tangal is also a kind of fortune teller. Tangal also foresees various details relevant to her brothers’ fates. And notably she has the power to bless their swords before they leave on a dangerous adventure. Near the end of the story she does not give them this blessing (put another way, her brothers fail to ask for this before placing their swords in their scabbards). Following this the two heroes die deep in the forest and only “see” their sister once more following the moment when she finds they bodies and (briefly) resurrects them.

Sorcery or negative magic has differing symbolic links in the two epics being discussed. In the Vatnsdaela case the sorceress accesses negative power by inverting her body and then walking backwards. She is trying to weaken the hero Jokul’s power to take revenge on her son after Jokul becomes angry at him because of an insult. In the Ponnivala tale Tangal’s subtle (unspoken) anger is directed at her own brothers because of their lack of concern for her welfare, also a kind of insult. Her fury is expressed by (projected onto?) her tiny, female, earless dog. We could say that this constitutes a kind of inversion too, as a human actor is here transformed into a non-human one. That little dog, Ponnacci, sends a message to her brothers in the form of a dream-curse that s them while they rest inside their war tent. The two are essentially incapacitated until the younger, Shankar, makes amends for them both, expressing his humility via an apology.

Swords and other long vicious weapons have special magical powers in both these epic stories. In the Vatnsdaela case Jokul uses a sword passed down in his family that has a personality and a name (Aettartangi) all its own. In the Ponnivala story the heroes’ swords do not bear special names but they absorb special powers from their sister’s blessing of them just before each use. Meanwhile, the hunter enemies have a powerful piercing weapon all their own, the spear. Their forest-dwelling sister does not overtly bless these before their use but a magical connection between these warriors’ power and her anger seems to be implied. Speaking more abstractly, piercing is a key motif in the Ponnivala Legend. A piercing marks both the beginning of the story (the piercing of several sacred cows) and its ending which involves the piercing of both the great boar Komban and then, a little later, of the heroes themselves. How important the theme of piercing is to the Vatnsdaela story is not known.

~ Brenda E. F. Beck

Women Versus Men - PART 1

The Vatnsdaela Saga and the Legend of Ponnivala both have a prominent woman who becomes mother to a set of male heroes in the next generation. We know very little about Vigdis except that she is a strong and good woman who undergoes (at least one) childbirth alone in a forest under difficult circumstances. Tamarai is a similarly strong and heroic female. In her case there is much more information provided by the story tellers. She undertakes several difficult journeys on her own and she has a keen perception of situations. Her ability to “intuit” what will happen clearly surpasses any parallel ability exhibited by her husband Kunnutaiya. Tamarai’s determination to bear children is exceptional and sends her on a twenty one year quest to speak with Lord Shiva himself. When Tamarai eventually does give birth to triplets (two heroic sons and one daughter) this birthing scene forms a memorable moment that becomes etched on this epic’s broad canvass. As fatherhood is remembered through leadership and social status, so motherhood is honored in both epics through rich scenes describing courage, self-sacrifice and, in particular, the precious moment dedicated to birthing the next generation.

In the Ponnivala story a gender difference can be noted in the birth stories of the key male and female characters of each generation. Kunnutaiya, father of the final set of heroes, is born under a large pile of rocks. Even his name likens him to a large rock pile or “kuundru.” His wife Tamarai, by contrast, is born in the middle of a lotus flower found growing in a pond. Her name is equally significant. It means “lotus flower.” The lotus is a very significant and symbolic plant that grows up from the mud, to reach the surface of the water that nurtures it. The lotus plant has a single flower that sits atop a long stem, as if on a pillar trying to reach into the sky. Tamarai is described as sitting on a pillar for twenty one years, later in her life, trying to reach Lord Shiva’s heavenly Council Chambers.

In the next generation we again see a gender contrast in the birth stories of the twin males Ponnar and Shankar, and their sister Tangal. The two men are born first, exiting the womb in a magical fashion with Lord Vishnu’s knife allowing them to emerge directly from Tamarai’s two sides. At birth these boys can already walk, and jump. They carry small metal weapons, are clothed in shorts. They are also instantly able to speak. By contrast, their sister, born after these two males leave the scene, enters the world in a totally “natural” way. She simply emerges from under her mother’s sari-skirt. Tangal looks like a normal, nude human baby. She does not hold any magical objects nor can she speak. This little sister is quickly swaddled in a simple white cloth and handed to her mother to hold. She is nursed by her mother. The two boys, on the other hand, are whisked off to a secret cave situated under the temple of the family goddess. There they are raised for five years by a “divine” female who feeds them tiger’s milk. In both generations, then, the male heroes births are described through visual metaphors that rely on “hard” images (stones, knives and vicious tigers) while the females become immediately associated with “soft” images like flowers, white clothes and mother’s milk.

There is a long tradition, seen in many cultures, of women acting as intermediaries in both these stories. There is one good example in the Vatnsdaela Saga and many in the Ponnivala Legend. In Vatnsdaela there is enmity between the hero Ingimund and the father of the woman he wishes to marry. This is because Ingimund earlier murdered this man’s son, his hoped-to-be-bride’s brother. But the bride’s mother then intercedes on Ingimund’s behalf and manages to tame her husband’s animosity. The wedding proceeds. 

In the Ponnivala case a direct intercession by a female advocate also occurs. Now this lobbying occurs mainly at the level of the gods. For example we see the goddess Parvati speaking to her husband Shiva at the request of her brother Vishnu and also the local goddess Celatta (a form of Parvati) speaking with Vishnu on behalf of the hero Kunnutaiya. Later in the story Kunnutaiya’s wife Tamarai “advocates” on the behalf of beggars, persuading her husband to soften his resistance to her spending the family fortune. She is determined to give all of them alms. This pattern of providing go-between services is less pronounced in the next generation where both key females (Tangal and also her hunter counterpart Viratangal) operate more as visionary advisors. Each seeks to collaborate with their brothers rather than to be an advocate of the interests of another. As sisters rather than wives their role is limited to handing along useful information to a key male who will (in a sense) act on their behalf. As “seers” both these Ponnivala women have visionary access to situations that have evolved at a distance, outside the palace. Speaking abstractly, we can see both these young women “mediate” between outside and inside points of view.   

~ Brenda E. F. Beck

Heroes Versus Villains - PART 2

In one episode Jokul kills the son of a known sorceress, even though he is mounted on a horse and is potentially a very dangerous adversary. The size of this adversary is further emphasized by his being placed in the foreground. 

Shankar has a different kind of challenge, a wild boar named King Komban. This wild animal also has magical powers of a negative kind. The illustration shows Komban with a star sign on his tongue, a ring in his navel and a small garland of flowers on his tail. These attributes suggest a possible mirroring of the sinister powers believed central to the cult of Nath yogis, a sectarian group identity popular right across India in the Middle Ages. Komban is Shankar’s key magical adversary, a huge black beast who believes he is destined to kill both Shankar and his brother Ponnar using his sharp tusks!

A good deal of the Ponnivala story, especially in its concluding four episodes, describes the confrontation between a set of twin heroes, Kunnutaiya’s two sons, and Komban who has attacked their fields and made a huge mess of their crops and irrigation system. Shankar finally has the honor of killing Komban outright, using his great boar spear. 

The story does not end here, however, as Komban’s last act is to cry out to his guardian mistress, a forest princess named Viratangal. Her brothers take revenge on the two kings for the killing of Komban. His demise is used to set the scene for one great final battle, a violent confrontation between hunters and farmers. There is a good reason for the hunter’s anger: these ploughmen have cut down their beloved trees and converted their wild, lovely forest into open farmland.

~ Brenda E. F. Beck

Heroes versus Villains - PART 1

In both the Icelandic and South Indian epic accounts wealth is redistributed by the (senior) hero. In the Vatnsdaela Saga Ingimund kills a wealthy robber and returns the goods he had stolen to its rightful owners. In the Ponnivala Legend the clansmen have tried to ruin Kunnutaiya’s maize crop by having their cattle trample it.

But with Lord Vishnu’s help those plants spring back and his wife Tamarai then finds that all their cobs contain jewels! She, rather than he, decides that all this surprising and unexpected new wealth should be given out to the thousand beggars who suddenly stand at their homestead door. This parallel story of gift-giving, found in both epics, illustrates the generosity and social responsibility of a key story character. But it is interesting to note that in the Ponnivala case this character is a female. She rather than her husband, is driven by an instinct for generosity. Ingimund, the gift-giver in the Vatnsdaela story was not married at the time he gave his newly acquired wealth back to the people. We don’t know what would have transpired had he had a wife. Nonetheless, the emphasis on female generosity in the Ponnivala epic matches other evidence found in this legend that credits women with key decisions. Speaking in general terms, females are given a heightened and more visible role in the South Indian story than they are in the Icelandic counterpart we are discussing here.

In both legends the sons of a generous senior figure become more violent than their father ever was. These young men, especially the second and younger of the two (Thorstein & Jokul from Vatnsdaela and Ponnar & Shankar from Ponnivala) kill a variety of challengers in each story. Jokul kills a man thought to have magical powers while Shankar kills an (unnamed) Chola king similarly described as having used his powers inappropriately. 

Jokul sometimes kills multiple men at a time, as in the image here that shows him with a bunch of thieves. Shankar also kills multiple men in quick succession, as in this second illustration. Here we see Shankar attacking a bunch of clansmen who earlier tried to take land from him and his father too. 

~ Brenda E.F. Beck

The Story Tellers

Scholars think that the Vatnsdaela Saga was likely written down by monks associated with the ancient church at Pingeyrar sometime between 1270 and 1320.  The story is only persevered in later manuscripts, however.  The earliest fragments that survive have been dated as having been written between 1390 and 1425 AD.  But the Vatnsdaela Saga itself describes more-or-less “real” events estimated to have occurred between 875 and 1000 AD.  (Andrew Wawn, pp. 185-88, the Sagas of the Icelanders, Penguin, 2001). This text represents just one of a much larger collection of oral stories that have survived to the present day and that depict tales from early Icelandic history.  This corpus of saga literature likely reflects a much larger body of popular oral legends circulating in the area at the end of the first millennium.  Monks, having heard them, began to write them down with an eye to their lasting preservation.  These skillful and attentive scribes were men interested in capturing their local history, hoping that future generations would honor these tales.  We do not know if the earliest story-telling traditions in Iceland transmitted legends using songs and extensive conversational segments.  However, it is likely that they did.   The text of the Vatnsdaela Saga, as preserved, however, is cast in narrative form.  There are no songs and just a few lines inserted here and there that depict actual conversational exchanges between characters.

The Legend of Ponnivala is still sung by illiterate local bards (at least in part) and thus is still transmitted orally.  The version I reference and have written about was tape recorded during a 44 hour performance of two live singers to an enthralled village audience in 1965.   This particular telling took 18 nights.  The tape recording was later transcribed.  I also rely on a parallel version dictated by the same lead singer to a scribe just weeks after his public performance.  This second “text” is considerably shorter, contains shorter songs and fewer mythological diversions but is the same story in most of its action-packed details.  This transcribed version has also been translated into English.  That document is very interesting as it stands midway between a truly oral performance and the kind of poetic, literary texts we have available for other Nordic oral epics (the Finnish Kalevala, the Estonian Kavelipoeg, etc).

The Ponnivala legend has been recorded, at least in part, on palm leaves and in one early European-style chapbook.  However, the oral version described above (the one I have used) is far more straightforward, is more easily understood and is exceptionally detail-rich.  Dating the Legend of Ponnivala is impossible but its core events roughly reflect the history of the region in question between about 1000 and 1500 AD.  The story, as told there, aligns with and compares to stone and copper inscriptions available from this same period.  The other more literary versions referred to may reflect the earlier preservation efforts of various scribes, but their texts have long since morphed into literary and poetic re-creations, a process similar to what happened in the effort to preserve several other famous Nordic traditions just now mentioned above.

The singers of the Vatnsdaela Saga were possibly also devotees who worshipped at the Pingerar church.  This image shows a pair of men who might have been usefully engaged as scribes.  They could also have been active tellers of historical stories about the region, stories that were conscientiously preserved and handed down through many generations in this church setting.

The Vatnsdaela story text, as far as I can judge from its English translation, is not a corpus of epic poetry but rather a string of narrated adventure tales grounded in the region where the Pingerar church is located.  There are no obvious poetic or song passages, no repeated stanzas and just a little bit of dialog woven in.  The Ponnivala Legend is different.  In this tale there are a lot of character voices, supplemented with a certain amount of narration that serves to bridges scenes and conversations.  There are also many songs, some (with variations) used multiple times.  The story is driven forward by the main bard, but he sings with an assistant who is also sometimes his apprentice.  This second singer repeats phrases to emphasize them and sometimes adds extra lines, questions or exclamations.  This makes the Ponnivala story stylistically different from its Icelandic counterpart, though content wise there is a lot of overlap, as this long blog has demonstrated.

Stylistically the Ponnivala epic performance somewhat resembles the Finnish Kalevala and also is somewhat similar to the (translated) corpus of Icelandic sagas.  Indeed our Ponnivala text(s) lie somewhere in between these two Nordic paradigms.  (See Elder Brothers Story Vols. I & II, collected, translated and edited by B. Beck with Tamil and in English, on facing pages, Institute of Asian Studies, Madras, Tamilnadu, India). This two volume set contains more poetry and song than an Icelandic Saga does, but does not present the reader with a full-length metred and highly poetic text.  Ponnivala’s extensive song segments highlight character feelings while its long conversational sections lend the story great immediacy and realism.  The third element, Ponnivala’s narrative segments, serve to tie everything together with strong logical threads, giving the story its basic “this-and-then-that-happened” structure.

~ Brenda E.F. Beck

A Wise Leader and Father Figure – PART 2

Ingimund becomes wealthy but remains loyal to the king of Norway. When eventually asked to settle in Iceland, Ingimund serves as a king’s representative, a man commissioned to establish a new outpost for his overlord. When Ingimund returns to Norway with gifts and a report the king gives him both material rewards and also a talisman to mark his identity as an ally. The same monarch also arranges Ingimund’s marriage to a high status woman who accompanies him to Iceland and bears him several children: several strong sons and also one fine daughter. Ingimund dies of a sword wound after living many good years. He is now a respected elder. Two close friends pierce their breasts with their swords to express their unconditional loyalty and thereby die with him. The suicides of these close friends of Ingimund resembles the deaths of the two heroes in the Ponnivala story who also commit voluntary suicide. The Ponnivala men (Ponnar and Shankar) die a double death on the tips of their own swords. We can read this a sacrificial gift to the gods (honoring a message sent to them just a short while earlier by Lord Vishnu). These two heroes’ loyal assistant Shambuga then kills himself in order to join his two masters. This self-willed death of a loyal follower of Ponnivala’s local ruler(s) directly parallels the statement made by Ingimund’s two special friends when they immediately offer up both their own lives the moment they learn of their leader’s demise.

Kunnutaiya is Kolatta’s only son (albeit technically an adopted one). He also matures early, having been orphaned by his parents’ simultaneous deaths when he was only six years old. This event forces Kunnutaiya to become self-sufficient. He soon runs away from clansmen try to abuse and take advantage of his pitiful condition. Kunnutaiya defies all odds, now fending for himself over many years while exhibiting physical skills and also good street-smarts. In this he parallels Ingimund’s early life, first living under the wing of an adopted father and then as a self-sufficient young Viking warrior. Kunnutaiya eventually marries a woman of high status with the help of Lord Vishnu. Ingimund marries with the help of a king. Kunnutiaya then returns to his father’s homeland where he re-establishes the family farm and accumulates substantial wealth. Ingimund immigrates to Iceland and establishes a homestead there.

Kunnutaiya, like Ingimund, is loyal to a great king (an unnamed South Indian Chola monarch) to whom he reports and takes gifts. In return he receives various honors and even a small crown. Kunnutaiya always behaves like his royal master’s ally. He recognizes that he holds territory in an outpost area over which the king wishes to claim sovereignty. Kunnutaiya is soft spoken, kind and a gentle landlord whose actions are much admired. He performs good works along with his wife. Then, with Lord Shiva’s help, she eventually gives birth to two brave boys and one lovely little girl. It is presumed they will carry forward the good family name. Just before Kunnutaiya and his wife die they offer important words of advice to their two sons. Then they lie down, surrounded by their children, and die a natural, non-violent death.

Both Ingimund and Kunnutaiya are both remembered as wise, even-handed rulers who care deeply for their subjects. Both are said to share their wisdom to others in their later years. Both are admired fathers and true clan heroes. A set of paired sons is born to each of these ruler. Remarkable, these two sets of story characters resemble one another as well. For a discussion of Thorstein The Younger and his brother Jokul plus the tale of Ponnar and his brother Shankar see the up-coming blog segment devoted to the theme of elder versus younger sons.  

~ Brenda E. F. Beck

A Wise Leader and Father Figure – PART 1

 The Vatnsdaela Saga and The Legend of Ponnivala both feature a distinguished clan ancestor, a sort of “grandfather” figure. In the Icelandic case this is Thorstein (The Elder). We are told that this senior Thorstein was preceded by a named four-generation lineage of males said to have resided in Norway before him (Giant-Bjorn followed by Hrossbjorn, then by Orm Broken-shell and then Ketil the Large). But these are largely just names mentioned in passing. A few details are provided that describe Ketil, the last in line before the venerable senior Thorstein, as noble and wealthy man. But the real story begins with Thorstein The Elder himself. Thorstein is not a pioneer farmer and he never leaves Norway. However he is a brave man who sets out at age 18 to establish himself as a brave and honorable man. He soon kills a man who made himself wealthy by robbing others. He then gives the victim’s money back to the people. When he returns he receives fame and respect for his brave deed. Thorstein then goes on to marry the murdered man’s sister, a woman named Thordis. Interestingly, both Thorstein’s name and Thordis’ name repeat two generations later when these names are reused to label this couple’s first born male and female grandchildren.

 

The parallel character in the Legend of Ponnivala is Kolatta, the pioneer grandfather. Instead of having a genealogical lineage of four preceding males, Kolatta is directly created by the goddess Parvati along with eight younger brothers. This gives him a different but equally “prestigious” status in this South India story. Kolatta does not go out and kill another man at age eighteen, but he does marry a woman (also created by the goddess) and at roughly the same age he enters Ponnivala as an immigrant with the plan to become a pioneer farmer there. He is opposed by previous sword-bearing residents. Instead of killing them (Kolatta has no sword) he bravely rises from the earth (symbolically positioned as its son) and we learn that because he is backed by Lord Vishnu, no sword can kill him. He goes on to adopt a son whose wife eventually bears the clan line several grandchildren. These children are not given his (and his wife’s) name(s). However, they are what is called cross-cousin grandchildren, a local Tamil tradition where two male clans consistently intermarry by giving women back and forth to each other over several generations. This is not “repeat naming” but a kind of social equivalent we can call “repeat intermarrying.” Kolatta also resembles Thorstein in that he is an honorable and sincere man despite the fact that he unintentionally kills several sacred cows at one point. Poor Kolatta builds a fence that whose sharp fence posts these innocent cows die on, believing they can jump over it. In sum, both Thorstein and Kolatta are responsible for a kill, though in different ways and within very different cultural frameworks. Both remain honorable men and become, as their two epic stories progress in parallel. Both die relatively natural deaths and each stands as a venerable clan forefather that later generations can look up to.

Ingimund is Thorstein’s only son and he becomes a main story hero. He matures early and is said to be handsome as well as very talented physically. As a child he goes to live with his father’s friend Ingjald where he shares adventures with Ingjald’s son. As a young man he leads the life of a Viking raider. This helps him to build his skills and self-confidence as a successful fighter and brave man.   

~ Brenda E.F. Beck

Wild Lands and Magic

In both the Vatnsdaela Saga and the Legend of Ponnivala the wild, mountainous areas are important. These uplands provide a contrast to the much flatter farmed (or grazed) lands in each case. The Vatnsdaela valley is hemmed in by hill rocky hills of volcanic origin. These hills are where the magicians, sorcerers and spirit beings generally reside. These are dangerous areas not to be entered thoughtlessly. 

The Land of Ponnivala is also surrounded by high hills that are filed with wild animals and populated by fierce hunters. In these areas the paths are full of thorns, a wild boar stalks intruders and a fierce goddess (Kali) reigns. In both stories three underlying contrasts are fairly obvious: wild versus civilized, chaos versus order and danger versus safety.

The Vatnsdaela Saga speaks of Porolfur (the dark skinned trouble-maker) who lives in a fortress in the hills and who is suspected of animal sacrifice (in other words, of sorcery). Here the hero of the third generation, Jokul, scales Porolfur’s defensive wall in order to get at him and destroy this dangerous adversary. 

In the Ponnivala Legend Shankar, the third generation hero, has an assistant who visits the hunter’s forest palace on his behalf. This residence is also fortified just like the one in the hills of Vatnsdaela. But there is no need to scale its walls, because Shambuga is shrewd and knows how to speak candied words with the forest princess who rules this domain. However, Shambuga is a very strong man and certainly could scale the fortress walls if he so wished. The hills among which this hunting palace sits are visible in the background. And the geographic area referenced as belonging to these hunters also has a likely volcanic history.

The wild hills of Ponnivala are full of tigers and cobras. And these are not ordinary animals. The palace princess mentioned above controls them and can speak to them in their own language(s). She can also speak with parrots and there are two very special parrots, descended from the heavens above, that live in a fine banyan tree near her residence. This hunter’s sister has the power to anticipate future events and she knows that her two lovely parrots (a couple) are at risk of being stolen by her adversaries, the farmers who live on the flat lands below. So this young princess (also a virgin) asks 5,000 tigers and 5,000 cobras to guard these two treasured birds and keep them from harm. Unfortunately, with Shambuga’s help, the farmers eventually outwit her, and steal her beloved female parrot. This theft of a bird (likely a symbolic substitute for the princess herself) signals the start of a great confrontation between the hunter-tribal forest dwellers and their non-forest neighbors.

In these two pictures, one from each epic, we see the third generation hero in the process of killing his dark-skinned forest-dwelling adversary. In the first image Porolfur has been on the run and is exhausted. Jokul’s kill appears easy though the lead up to it was challenging. In the second image we see Shankar confronting a skillful fighter. But these hunters are true athletes and martial artists too. Even armed with just one stick they can do real damage in a fight. Shankar wins the struggle and the story uses this outcome as one more demonstration of his courage. Of course Shankar also carries the superior weapon.

Finally (not pictured), there is a tenacious wild boar named Beigad in the Vatnsdaela Saga that Ingimund chases. Eventually it jumps in the water and then runs up a hill. There, exhausted, it dies. There is a similar tale in old Norse mythology with a boar of the same name. By contrast that boar escapes and spares the exhausted hunters! http://www.mythicalcreatureslist.com/mythical-creature/Beigad The story we are examining shines much glory on the Vatnsdaela hero! In the Ponnivala tale we find a similar wild boar and he is considerably more important than is his Vatnsdaela Saga equivalent. Komban is a magical boar, perhaps a kind of sinister yogi. His roots likely lie entwined with a very ancient tribal belief system seen in petroglyphs from South India. Komban is eventually killed by Shankar’s great boar spear but not without a huge struggle. His identity is also more complex that Beigad’s as Lord Vishnu and Lord Shiva also (both) take the form of wild boars (albeit very different ones) in their own well-known Hindu mythologies.  

~ Brenda E.F. Beck