This novel is about the semi-legendary Viking prince from the 10th century. Named Bjorn at his birth, his quarrelsome nature caused others to add the first syllable “styr-“ to his name; we might say “bothersome Bjorn.” The name was expanded again in his youth by the addition of the epithet “sterki,” the strong; it certainly referred to his prodigious physical strength, but probably his stubborn temperament as well.
In writing it, Eddison, better remembered today as an author of fantasy literature, acquainted with Tolkein, adapted an ancient saga detailing this hero’s exploits. In keeping with the saga tradition, there is little interior reflection, and almost no intrusion of an omniscient author. Instead, the narrative is propulsed by the words and even more the deeds of the characters. Eddison adds to the flavor by use of archaic vocabulary (for instance, the use of “weird” as a noun, meaning fate) and kennings, metaphors composed by joining two words (sea-deer for ship, for example).
The adventures make a good tale, but the final chapter gave me pause. Despite the lack of authorial editorializing, the events recounted were enough to establish the character of the hero as badly-flawed. As powerful in body and winning in personality as he was, his haughty disregard of others, especially the thralls he and his uncle ruled over, brought unnecessary suffering and death to hordes. Yet when his lifeless corpse (sorry, forgot to signal a spoiler alert) is carried to Valhalla by the Valkyrie Skogul, her reproach to Odin is answered “I chose him first I loved the best.” So that’s the standard of quality: to be the strongest?