From old Norse mythology:
Loke lived among the Aesir, the old Danish gods, but he came from the world of giants, who were enemies of the gods. The gods tried to compete with Loke, but they never tried to kill him. They understood that evil is always a part of the world.
Loke had many offspring, most of them with giant women. Except for Odin’s eight-legged horse, Sleipnir, all of his children were monsters.
The best known of Loke’s offspring is the Midgard Serpent (see below), a snake larger than a sea serpent. At first, it was just a small worm, but the gods threw it into the ocean, where it grew and grew until it was so huge it surrounded the entire world of gods and men. It lies coiled around the world, biting its own tail, locking in gods and men alike.
According to old Danish stories, the Midgard Serpent still exists and will remain until Ragnarok, the Danish name for Armageddon.
But the worst of Loke’s offspring was the Fenris Wolf. At first, of course, it was a lovely little wolf cub, and the gods played games with it, especially the god Tyr. Tyr was a horned god whose name means “Bull.” Many villages in Denmark still bear his name, and Tuesday is named after him (called Tirsdag in Danish and Tisdag in Swedish).
But the wolf cub grew and grew until it was large enough to swallow the world of gods and men.
Naturally, the gods were very frightened, so they did what anyone would do: they made a chain to hold the wolf. The gods approached Fenris and asked, “Do you want to play a game?”
“Oh yes,” the wolf replied. “What’s the idea?”
“We’ll put this chain around your neck, and you try to break it.”
“Okay,” said the wolf, and the gods placed the chain around its neck.
Of course, it broke immediately.
The gods trembled with fear. Although they didn’t know the word “measurable” — a term connected to our modern scientific world — they traveled the world to gather all measurable materials and melted them down to create a new chain.
Everything that could be measured and weighed was included in that chain.
Science divides the world into two parts: the first, called “That which is,” includes everything visible to the eye or under a microscope. The second, “That which is not,” describes everything science cannot see — such as gods.
But the Danish gods knew nothing of science.
“There must be a life before science,” they thought, and so they acted without investigation. They made the biggest chain ever seen from everything belonging to the measurable world of “That which is.”
With this second chain, they approached the Fenris Wolf again. It took days to drag the heavy chain, and far off, the gods could hear Fenris laughing and shouting, “If you reach me, it will be an honor to break this chain!”
After several days, the gods succeeded in placing the chain around the wolf’s neck — but again, it broke immediately.
Now cold sweat of fear ran down the gods’ backs, and they went to a strange place, strange even for gods: the dwarfs’ halls in the hills. Dwarfs were known then as skilled plumbers and blacksmiths.
The gods asked the dwarfs to make a third chain, and the dwarfs created the strangest chain you’ve ever heard of. It was invisible and called Gleipnir.
It was soft and flabby and made from strange materials: women’s beard, bird’s spittle, the breath of fish, and the sound of a cat’s paws.
With this odd chain, the gods went once more to Fenris.
But this time, the wolf was not willing to play.
“I think there is magic in this chain,” Fenris said.
“On one condition you can put it around my neck: one of you must place an arm in my mouth at the same time.”
In truth, Fenris didn’t have a mouth, but a gap as wide as the opening from a firth to the North Sea.
The gods were uneasy. They looked at each other, clearly unwilling to volunteer.
Then Tyr, who had played with Fenris as a cub, stepped forward and promised to put his arm in the wolf’s mouth.
As the gods placed the chain—made from women’s beard, bird’s spittle, the sinews of a bear, the roots of a mountain, the breath of fish, and the sound of a cat’s paws—around Fenris’s neck, Tyr put his arm in the wolf’s mouth.
The old Danish mythology tells it beautifully: the chain did not break, much to the gods’ delight — but not to Tyr. He lost his arm.
The old Danish story reflects a life experience, opposite to modern science. The old Danish people knew that real strength in life does not come from the measurable world of “That which is,” but from “That which is not” — what cannot be measured or weighed. True strength comes from things you’ll never find under a microscope, like love, attitude, belief, feeling, and hope.
Science has never made this discovery, but the old Norse people did. They didn’t use the words “That which is not,” but found other words to explain their thinking. Women’s beard, bird’s spittle, sinews of a bear, roots of a mountain, the breath of fish, and the sound of a cat’s paws are all poetic expressions of this idea — so powerful that the old Danish people told unforgettable stories to share this truth of life.
You’ve just heard one of them.
It is said that during the mythical battle of Ragnarok, Fenrir will break free from the chain and devour everything, including Odin, king of the gods. However, Fenrir will die after killing Odin, when his son Vidar stabs him.
The Midgard Serpent, also known as Jormungandr, was a monster of Norse mythology. Jormungandr was the second of three children of Loki and the giantess Angrboda. The first was Fenrir, the third was Hel. The Midgard Serpent (sometimes called Midgardsorm) was said to circle the Norse world, biting its own tail — a symbol of eternity. This serpent was an antagonistic figure in the myths. On several occasions, Thor tried to kill the serpent and helped sailors and fishermen when they were in trouble because of it.
Thor’s enmity with the beast is important in the Norse myth of Ragnarok, the twilight of the gods — the end of the world. In this gigantic battle, the Midgard Serpent rises from the ocean to join the fight. The serpent and Thor battle fiercely; the beast is ultimately killed, but its venom kills Thor as well.