I know a lot of you read Egil’s Saga in the readalong thing or otherwise but for those of you who haven’t, Sonatorrek is a poem within it written after the death of two of his sons, one by fever and the other by drowning. After the second one, he locks himself in his room to die, but his daughter Thorgerd hears of it, rides straight to see him, refuses to eat and demands to see her father, allegedly to die with him. When she gets in, though, she tricks him into eating and drinking, and when he catches on, she goes ‘fine, look, I am really here to die with you over this but you need to write a poem for your dead son before you die, so I can carve it on this staff’, to which Egil is like ‘I don’t think I can write shit right now but fine’.
And then he sits down and writes 25 stanzas of fucking heartbreaking grief, saying he’d kill Aegir and Ran were it possible, that his sons would have been great warriors and were without blemish, but now they live in the lands of the gods, and Odin was my friend, but no longer because where the fuck were you, we were friends and you abandoned me, my sons are dead-
-but: I have this.
And the thing is, he writes the poem, and he doesn’t die, even though he’s staring at Her dead on.
He gets up again, and retakes his seat of the house. (And, it should be mentioned, gives Thorgerd many gifts for what she did. A liar knows.)
I have really no idea how that resonates with other people.
But it fucking breaks me.