They say that Germans are intrigued by the sagas of the Norse mythology and that we like to travel to this island in the middle of the North Atlantic Ocean. I cannot speak for everyone, but maybe because of the country’s untouched nature and age-old but still vivid culture, Iceland’s history attracts us more than our own.

It could probably prove a worthy subject for a PhD project but I won’t go to such lengths. I can only tell you my story of how things that never played any role in my German daily life suddenly became part of my reality in Iceland.

I was baptized in a small church with a Catholic priest dripping holy water over my head—which is tradition in Bavaria where I grew up.

While my parents had no ambitions to raise me according to the strictest doctrines of Catholicism, the expectations of the Catholic Church in the narrow-minded rural community where we lived shaped our social patterns and behavior.

My family showed up in church at Christmas, we had a lamb cake on Easter Sundays and prayed religiously to “Our Father” at weddings. Otherwise my grandparents would have faced some harassment by the other old villagers because of their “pagan” offspring.

Even the fantastic stories taught in religion class couldn’t convince me to identify myself with the Catholic Church. I was searching for something to believe in that suited my feelings best.

Music has always had a huge impact on my life and Black Metal spoke to me. Some bands within this musical genre show great interest in pre-Christian cultures and a strong affinity to nature. Their lyrics and imagery reflect this interest in a variety of ways.

Those historical and spiritual references provided me with in insight into Norse mythology for the first time. It was just a tiny glimpse of the mythological world of these ancient cultures and although my encounter with it through music cannot be classified as a religious experience, it seemed to make more sense to me than the rites of Catholicism.

When I started working full time I didn’t have as much time to delve into the historical meanings of Black Metal anymore and so the gods of Aesir and Vanir retreated to the background of my daily life.

Years later, and again through music, I was reminded of my fascination with Norse mythology while watching a documentary about the Icelandic music scene, called Screaming Masterpiece. The movie portrays local bands and their music with references to their cultural backgrounds and their country’s ancient history.

In the documentary, Hilmar Örn Hilmarsson, a musician and art director previously unknown to me, explained that the structure of Icelandic music is so exceptional because of its Viking origin: Traditional poetry meets electronic tunes.

Suddenly all these images of the Norse Gods from my Black Metal days popped up in front of my eyes and my interest in Norse mythology was reignited. But four years would pass until I could realize this interest.

On April 23, the First Day of Summer—which is a national holiday in Iceland and a ceremonial day according to the pagan calendar—I found myself standing in front of Hilmar Örn Hilmarsson from Screaming Masterpiece, only this time he was acting as the high-chieftain of Ásatrúarfélagid, Iceland’s pagan association.

Excited, I watched the pagan chieftain perform a “Sumarblót” ceremony. He raised a horn filled with beer to all four cardinal directions and then, in a deep voice, he called out the names of Odin, Thor and Freya.

I have to admit that my understanding of the Icelandic language is poor so I couldn’t really understand what Hilmarsson and the others were singing about, but the actual words seemed insignificant at that moment.

What mattered to me was that the ancient Viking mythology that I had thought about for so many years had suddenly turned into reality in the middle of the park Öskjuhlíd in Reykjavík and, simultaneously, a real part of my life.

The most fascinating thing about the “Sumarblót” ceremony was that this Norse “religion” practiced by the members of Ásatrúarfélagid, which is based on aged-old lore, materialized among the pine trees of Öskjuhlíd, the roaring wind and pouring rain, and became part of the modern way of life.

Ásatrúarfélagid places considerable emphasis on living in harmony with nature. It preaches that everyone should be true and honest to themselves, rely on their power within and the power of life itself.

Did I travel to Iceland because of my fascination with Norse mythology?

Not that I’m aware of. But I would definitely want to return to Iceland because of it. Back home in Germany, I can only fantasize about the wisdom of Norse mythology. But in Iceland it’s part of my reality.

Jennifer Zoltek – jennifer@icelandreview.com

Jennifer is studying online editing in Germany and will be working as an intern for Iceland Review Online until mid-June.