The Edda Or Whatever: The Gylfa-Beginning of Gylfaginning

Welcome to The Edda or Whatever, where I’m spilling the tea on Norse mythology. We’re breaking down the Prose Edda, a medieval Icelandic textbook that also low-key recaps most of what we know about the Norse gods today, but we’re doing it with a little bit of style and a whole lot of sass. (Not to mention ass!) If you’ve ever wondered, “wasn’t Þórr like the himbo of the Norse gods?” (he was) or, “didn’t Loki get dicked down by a literal horse?” (he did), then shut up, I’m getting to it.

Gylfi Gets Got

If you’ve been paying attention, then you’ll know we’ve already had plenty of beating around the bush on the Prose Edda. I’ve introduced you to its author, Snorri Sturluson, and explained its Trojan-themed Prologue in previous issues. The foreplay is over. It’s time for the dirty deed itself.

The real meat of the Prose Edda is Gylfaginning, which translates roughly to The Tricking of Gylfi or, as I like to call it, Gylfi Gets Got.

It’s so thick and so juicy that we simply cannot fit it all in at once, so we’ll go slow. The first part is the beginning, obviously, but I don’t mean the beginning of the story. It’s, like, the beginning of all creation and shit. We’re talking origin story, fam.

So there’s some Swedish king named Gylfi and a Norse goddess named Gefjun tricks him into letting her plow his kingdom so hard, she tears a huge chunk out. I mean this literally, not as a cheap metaphor for getting pegged. The chunk is so large that when she throws it into the sea, it becomes the island of Zealand in Denmark and the hole it left in Sweden becomes Lake Mälaren. Sure, Lake Vänern would make more sense, size-wise, but we’ll give them a break because medieval maps were a lol.

Gylfi Gets High (and Equally High and a Third)

Gylfi is so impressed that he wants to know more about the Norse gods. So he disguises himself as an old man and goes to their place, Valhöll. There he meets three kings called High, Equally High and Third. I feel like this trio is giving hardcore throuple energy, like they just came out of the bar bathroom, high af, and were like, “We saw you from across the bar and we loved your vibe. Wanna be Óðinn with us?” And Third was like, “bet.” They agree to answer Gylfi’s questions, but warn that if he can’t outsmart them, he’ll wind up dead. Not dead like haha but dead like “I’m sorry for your loss.”

“Gylfi is not here to fuck around.”

Gylfi is not here to fuck around, so he straight up asks about the creation of the world. I don’t know what the throuple are on, but I want some, because their explanations are psychedelic as balls. They say there was an ice world and a fire world, and between them was a gaping hole of nothing. So ice and fire are jizzing out of their worlds into this primeval pussy (or bussy, to be more inclusive) and this forms a giant named Ýmir.

Apparently his legs fuck each other and have children together and that’s where all the giants come from. Whether his legs have their own genitals is left up to the imagination. (I vote yes!) Us white folks love dairy so much that of course the Old Norse origin story also includes a primordial cow that feeds the giant, and licks the gods like Óðinn and his fam into existence. They are apparently so anti-giant that they promptly slaughter Ýmir, use his body parts to create the earth, and drown his children in his own blood. Sounds like someone needs to touch grass.

Gylfi Gets Dissed

The throuple goes on to describe the origins of everything else, too. Human beings, in case you’re wondering, are literally just some driftwood the gods picked up. This is only because we hadn’t invented plastic yet. Otherwise, we would’ve def been created from the Great Pacific Garbage Patch because it’s what we deserve.

There are also light elves and dark elves, the racial implications of which I’m not even gonna touch. Maggots are turned into dwarves, which are known today as short kings. Talk about a glow up!

“In the Golden Age of the Gods everything is built out of gold except for their special rainbow bridge.”

They describe a Golden Age of the Gods where everything is built out of gold except for their special rainbow bridge, which all sounds gloriously gay to me. That is, until WOMEN arrive from Giantland and RUIN EVERYTHING. Sounds like a typical gay orgy to me. (“Oh, the idea of a vulva makes you gag but you’ll literally stick your tongue into a strange man’s butthole with zero questions asked? Okay, JUSTIN.”)

So that’s how it started and lemme tell you, it’s all downhill from there. Throughout this drug-addled creationist rant, the throuple keeps responding to Gylfi’s questions like condescending dicks. “That’s a stupid question, Gylfi,” and “Wow, bitch, you really should know this but I admire the balls you have to reveal your dumbfuckery by asking.”

Do you think Gylfi has the brains to get outta there alive? Tune into the next issue to find out.

Morals of the story:
If you’re going to plow a stranger, use protection.
White people love cheese. I mean, guilty!

Binge-read the rest of our Edda or Whatever here.