Winifred Hodge Rose
Origin of the Dwarves
There are several different accounts of how Dwarves came into being in the Old Norse lore, though one thing that seems to be agreed upon is that Dwarves came into being after the sacrifice of the giant Ymir. Here is one account, from Völuspá verses 9-10 (Poetic Edda). Verse 9 says that the all-holy Gods went to their seats of judgement and asked “Who shall shape the lord of the Dwarves from Brimir’s blood and from Blain’s limbs?” Verse 10 states that Móðsognir was the greatest of all Dwarves, and Durinn the second; they made many ‘manlike’ forms in the earth, “as Durinn said or commanded.” Though some translators have interpreted this line as indicating that the Dwarves created human beings, I find this very unlikely. There is too much other clear evidence of a different origin for humans.
It’s not clear from the text whether Durinn simply told others about this event, or whether the making of many manlike forms was done on Durinn’s command. And if it was Durinn’s command, whom did he command? At that point, there was only him and Móðsognir. I assume, therefore, that Durinn was relating part of the history of the Dwarves, rather than commanding anyone to create the ‘manlike forms.’
It is also not quite clear what involvement the Gods had here, though it’s implied that they may have made the first two Dwarves. Verse 9 states that they asked the question, but verse 10 does not specify their involvement. At least it seems fairly clear that the greatest of the Dwarves, Móðsognir and Durinn, were the ones who made the rest of the Dwarves out of ‘Brimir and Blain’ (or ‘bloody froth and blue limbs’), namely from the corpse of the sacrificed Ymir.
So from the Völuspá we get the general idea that (a) the first two Dwarf-lords may have been made somehow by the Gods out of Ymir’s corpse; and (b) these first two Dwarves made many others. They made the others ‘in the earth’ or ‘out of the earth,’ according to the two versions of the Völuspá (Codex Regius and Hauksbók). Considering that ‘the earth’ was made from the sacrificed Ymir, then it seems that all the Dwarves were essentially made out of Ymir’s corpse.
Now we’ll turn to a different account, from Snorri Sturlason’s Gylfaginning in the prose Edda (section 14). He repeats that the Gods took their places on their seats of judgement, and then:
“…discussed where the Dwarfs had been generated in the soil and down in the earth like maggots in flesh. The Dwarfs had taken shape first and acquired life in the flesh of Ymir and were then maggots, but by decision of the gods they became conscious with intelligence and had the shape of men though they live in earth and in rocks” (p. 16).
This account offers a different idea: that the Dwarves started off as maggots rather than as manlike forms. Here I argue that this imagery is actually quite meaningful, and offer my own view of what was really going on as the Dwarves came into being.
In ancient times, maggots were thought to arise through spontaneous generation from decomposing flesh. Apparently, Snorri (perhaps ancient Norse generally) considered this to be a logical explanation for the origins of the Dwarves, who burrow through the earth / Ymir’s body as maggots burrow through decaying flesh. This is somewhat distasteful and insulting imagery, perhaps not surprising since ancient Heathens had a rather negative view of Dwarves, with their tendency to consume or suck energy from other beings (such as humans and domestic animals) on occasion. Many medieval spells and charms, from across the Germanic lands, were made to protect from this, or to remedy such draining of life-force by the Dwarves and similar beings. (See my articles on this website: An Anglo-Saxon Charm Against a Dwarf, and The Kindly Gods Go Wandering.) What, exactly, is it that the Dwarves consume from other beings? The answer to this question leads in some very interesting directions!
It All Hinges on ‘Mod’
I have a different way of looking at the tale about the origins of the Dwarves, and I base it on my interpretation of the name of the ‘lord of the Dwarves,’ Móðsognir or Mótsognir. ‘Móðr’ or ‘mod’ is a kind of power and a ‘mood or state of power,’ which is especially demonstrated by Thor and shown in the name of his son Móði. Móðr is wrath and fury, courage and determination, and the power to express these things in action. The name Móðsognir or Mótsognir has been interpreted as “he who drinks in might,” or “he who drinks in courage” (see references from Wikipedia page on “Mótsognir”.) I will return to Móðsognir momentarily, after exploring the meaning of mod, a word common to, and important to, all the old Germanic languages.
I view mod as a type of ambient energy, which is absorbed from the environment and transmuted by one’s mood and soul into a specific expression of power. (See several articles about Mod on this website, as well as my writing about the Thorlings.) In this respect it is similar to megin (Old Norse) or mægen (Anglo-Saxon), a word for power, for ‘might and main,’ which forms the name of Thor’s son, Magni, as moðr forms the name of his son Moði.
The Latin word virtus, the root of ‘virtue’, was translated into the ancient Germanic languages using the words ‘mod and mægen’ together (Meyer p. 14-15). We gain a sense of the meaning when we speak of the ‘virtue’ of an herb, a potion or a magical object, its special power that sets it apart from the ordinary. An example of such virtue is found in Fjölvinnsmal, vs. 15 (Poetic Edda). Svipdag, seeing Menglöd and her ladies sitting under the great Tree that bears mysterious healing and life-giving fruits, asks “What moði has this famous tree, that it can be felled neither by fire nor by iron?”
Powerful animals are called moðr or modig: think of the aurochs described in the rune poem about Uruz in the Old English Rune Poem, called a modig wiht, a mody wight. Uncastrated stallions and bulls were called ‘mod’ to distinguish them from geldings and oxen (Meyer p. 20). Weather, too, could be referred to by this word, as in Grimnismal 42 in the Poetic Edda which describes the ‘hard-mody sky / cloud-cover’ that was created from Ymir’s brains (heila). The power of the sea was seen as an expression of mod. Anglo-Saxon poetry, for example, contains several references to merestræmes mod, the mod of the streaming sea; Old Norse and Old Saxon have similar expressions.
Meyer’s conclusion, which other scholars have agreed with, is that the root meaning of Proto-Germanic *moda is based in the concept of Macht, of might, strength, virtue in the sense of special power, that sets one above the ordinary and can even reach to supernatural and divine levels (pp. 13ff).
Turning to another source, de Vries’ Old Norse Dictionary postulates that mod stems from the Proto-Indo-European root *ma, meaning ‘to be emotionally stirred, excited,’ as well as meaning ‘striving.’ He suggests related words in Greek that mean ‘to strive, to yearn or wish for, to rage’; also a Tocharian word meaning ‘strength’.
All of these words can well be used to describe Dwarves, their behaviors, attitudes, and abilities, as shown in lore and folklore from all the Germanic lands. They are considered to be very strong, crafty in all senses of the word, greedy, hard workers, short-tempered, vengeful, clever, knowledgeable about the ‘virtues’ of natural substances such as plants and minerals, skilled in magic, and generally formidable beings. “The word dvergsnattura (Dwarf-wisdom) …designates supernatural skills of healing and craftsmanship” (Motz p. 103).
Móðsognir and Durinn
Let’s return now to the first Dwarf-Fathers, Móðsognir and Durinn, and consider Móðsognir’s name in more detail. There are several seemingly contradictory interpretations of this name. In the previous section I mentioned the meaning “he who drinks in might / courage”; these are based on translations of the Völuspá by B.S. Benedikz, John McKinnel, and Sigurd Nordal (as referred to in the Wikipedia page on Mótsognir). Lotte Motz suggests ‘furious sucker’ as the meaning. All of these are based on ‘moðr’ as meaning ‘fury, rage, power, courage,’ and the like.
There is a different and opposite meaning of ‘moðr’ as ‘tiredness, fatigue, exhaustion, apathy, lethargy.’ DeVries’s dictionary suggests this second meaning as the root of the name Móðsognir, translating it as ‘he who sucks strength from the body’ (p. 392). As I showed in “An Anglo-Saxon Charm Against a Dwarf,” Dwarves were well-known in Germanic folklore for stealing strength and energy from humans and domestic animals, so this interpretation has some merit. (See also The Kindly Gods Go Wandering where I mention a couple of old Norwegian spells to heal ‘mod-stolen’ or strength-and-energy-stolen cows; there are a great many more such spells for animals and humans in the original book I discuss there.)
Considering the word ‘sognir,’ related words in modern English are ‘suck, soak, sog, soggy’. Related Old Norse words refer to sucking, waterfalls, the sea—especially the ebb-tide which sucks things with it as it goes out, also nursing a baby, and similar watery meanings (deVries dictionary pp. 529, 560). The suggestions above about ‘drinking in’ might and courage are close, but I believe some connotations are missed with the translation ‘drink’ rather than ‘suck.’ For one thing, ‘drink’ and ‘suck’ are different words, in Old Norse as well as English; if ‘drink’ had been intended for Móðsognir’s name, it would have involved a form of the word drekka, ‘to drink.’ For another, ‘drinking’ implies consuming something that is easily available in liquid form, while ‘sucking’ implies a more difficult action of extracting something that is not as easily obtained. This refers again to actions that the Dwarves are blamed for in Germanic folklore: sucking milk from cows or sheep, sucking energy and health from people and domestic animals.
So I go with the meaning of ‘moðr-sucker,’ and further, I believe that both meanings of moðr discussed here are implied in the name. Móðsognir, and by implication all the Dwarves he ‘made’ or is the ‘greatest of’, is a Dwarf who sucks or consumes mod, megin, energy, power, and thereby causes weakness, exhaustion, depletion when that energy is sucked from people or animals, as we saw in the charm against a Dwarf, and in Kindly Gods Go Wandering describing old Norwegian spells. It’s understandable that people would be very resentful about this and would want to work magic against it! But let’s step back and look at this phenomenon in a broader context of myth and meaning.
Dwarves are great craftsmen, creating amazing magical works that no other race of beings can equal. I think that many Landwights are of the Dwarven kind; they too are ‘makers’ in their own way. Both of these functions require enormous inputs of energy: for crafting magical items, and for ensouling and energizing natural features of the land. I think that the fundamental activity of the Dwarves (and Landwights), which underlies everything else that they do, is as transformers of mod-and-mægen energy from diffuse ambient sources into concentrated, directed sources: namely, themselves and their works.
Going back to the origin of the Dwarves: as maggots, they were sucking from the primordial source—Ymir—and transforming that primal energy within themselves, preparing for their own great work of transformation and their creative work to come. The ‘first and most famed’ of the Dwarves, Móðsognir / Mod-sucker, is the master of this craft of mod-condensing. I think it is very likely that Móðsognir transformed himself from a maggot into a Dwarf, without any help from the Deities!
The second Dwarf to be formed was Durinn; he and Móðsognir ‘made’ (or transformed) all the rest. ‘Durinn’ could mean ‘door-keeper, sleepy, or demonic being’ (Simek p. 67). All of these meanings are significant. Dwarves can certainly be considered otherworldly, daemonic beings. I believe Durinn’s main function is as Móðsognir’s doorkeeper: he controls access to the mod that Móðsognir sucks and accumulates. When Durinn opens the ‘door’ or access to Móðsognir, concentrated mod is available to the Dwarves; when he closes the door, it is not. The lack of mod causes sleepiness and fatigue, hence his name ‘sleepy,’ that applies when the door is closed.
Overall, Durinn functions as the active chieftain of the Dwarves, their ‘ring-giver’ or wealth-giver in the form of activated mod-power, while Móðsognir is more sequestered and mysterious, more like a Dwarf-God, a source of power, than like a chieftain involved with the business of the folk. This goes along with the idea that he and Durinn transformed themselves from maggots to Dwarves, using concentrated mod-power from Ymir, and then were able to transform all the other Dwarves the same way.
As I’ve worked with these ideas over time, I have indeed come to believe that Móðsognir and Durinn are Dwarf-Gods: Móðsognir is mysterious, standing outside of ordinary life, a source of divine power for them, while Durinn is their chieftain-God, their ‘ring-giver’ or mediator of their access to mod-power, and the leader of their folk.
Implications for Personal Practice
Here are a few thoughts on the personal relevance of these conclusions about the Dwarves, though one may very well choose not to follow up on them, but simply regard what I’ve written here as an interesting take on the origins and nature of the Dwarves. The perspective I’ve presented here does have implications for our own use of mod-energy for many purposes: health, personal development, and the practice of magic. Mod-power and ‘virtue’ in the sense of ‘special powers’ are inherently connected, and the Dwarves know a lot about both. We’re speaking here of the ‘virtue’ of an herb, a potion, a magical object. The reason the herb, potion, magical object can do what it can do, is that it has mod and mægen. Sometimes this is naturally inherent, as in an herb; other times that virtue is there because it was created or enhanced by magical techniques such as rune-craft or galdor, or enhanced by magical smith-craft in the case of Dwarves. (You can read more about our own human mod-power in articles about Mod on this website.)
An understanding of the Dwarves’ role as mod-condensers, and ideally gaining their aid, can help us in any magical endeavor that involves instilling or heightening virtue or mod within an object. A word of caution, however: the Dwarves are often tricky and hostile, as well as helpful at times. They are extremely clannish and don’t like outsiders. Think about this: since Dwarves arose from Ymir, sucking in his power, they must share his ‘venomous’ or ‘poisonous’ nature. Gylfaginning in the prose Edda tells us that at the beginning of the cosmos, Ymir was formed from the rime and ice coating Ginnungagap, and that this rime contained both salt and some kind of venom or poison (Sturlason pp. 9-11; I discuss this further in my article The Alchemy of Hel, Part 1 on this website.) This ‘venomous’ nature may explain why the Dwarves, as portrayed in old Norse and Germanic lore, are generally seen as ‘negative,’ dangerous and even treacherous beings like the Jotnar, and should be dealt with cautiously, if at all.
I believe that Landwights are related to Dwarves and have the same ability to handle mod-power, which they use for their own work of ‘ensouling’ and energizing features of the natural environment. They are often much easier to work with than are the deep-living dwarvish tribes of craft-folk, if you approach the Landwights appropriately and offer them your help as well as asking them for theirs. There is often much more we can offer to reward Landwights for their help than we can offer to the Dwarves. Our help to the Landwights normally consists of things like environmental cleanup, protection and restoration of natural areas, planting and caring for trees, and many other such endeavors. It’s harder to know what to offer the Dwarves in exchange for their help, when they have so much power to get what they want for themselves.
If you do try to deal with Dwarves, be well-protected, watch your words (and your back) carefully, be careful of both making and breaking promises, and know when to back out. And never steal from them! Including stealing mod. That will gain you their life-long enmity; they are not forgiving people. All in all, seeking help from Landwights, who are very good mod-condensers, is really preferable to dealing with Dwarves for most of us. There is less risk, more gain, and mutual benefit when we help the Landwights with their tasks, as well as seeking their help with ours. Whichever being one seeks help from, always be courteous, and willing to take ‘no’ for an answer!
After all these cautionary statements, however, I would like to note that I have had generally positive experiences when working with Dwarves, though there is always the need for caution and care in one’s dealings with them. My sense is that much depends on one’s approach to the Dwarves, and how well one understands their mindset and worldview. I get the impression that they often consider us difficult, deceptive, greedy, and exploitative, and they may not always be wrong about that. If we approach the Dwarves with exploitation in mind, things will not go well for us; they are not stupid beings and are glad to ‘return the favor’ of any negative intentions.
My work with them has been fairly simple and surface-level so far, and I think this is the best way to begin, so as to gain a deeper understanding of their nature, worldview, their own ethical beliefs and rules of behavior, before becoming more involved with them. This forms the basis for more substantial interactions. My article The Living Jewels of Brisingamen on this website provides additional perspectives on interacting with the Dwarves.
Bookhoard
deVries, Jan. Altgermanische Religionsgeschichte. Band I. Berlin: Walter de Gruyter & Co., 1956.
Larrington, Carolyne, transl. The Poetic Edda, revised edition. Oxford: Oxford University Press, Oxford, 2014.
Lecouteux, Claude; transl. Jon E. Graham. The Hidden History of Elves & Dwarfs: Avatars of Invisible Realms. Rochester, VT: Inner Traditions, 2018.
Meyer, Elisabeth Marie. Die Bedeutungsentwicklung von Germanischen *moda-. Halle, Germany: Buchdruckerei des Waisenhauses, 1926.
Motz, Lotte. “Of Elves and Dwarfs” in Arv: Tidscrift for Nordisk Folkminnesforskning (Journal of Scandinavian Folklore) Vol. 29-30, 1973-4. Published by The Royal Gustavus Adolphus Academy, Uppsala; distributed by The Almqvist & Wiksell Periodical Company, Stockholm, Sweden.
Simek, Rudolf. Dictionary of Northern Mythology. Cambridge: D.S. Brewer, 1993.
Sturlason, Snorri. Edda. Transl. Anthony Faulkes. Everyman, Charles E. Tuttle, Vermont. 1995.