The Beloved Dead: The Dísir and the Álfar

In today’s Heathenry, álfar without any qualifications is the word commonly used for male ancestors, and female ancestors are usually called dísir. But what is the historical and literary significance of those terms and how can we apply them now?

Dísir 

 The Old Norse word dís seems to be related to the Old High German word itis, Old Saxon idis, and Old English ides, all of which seem to go back to an original *dīsi- meaning “woman; lady.” 

Both ides and dís are applied to living human women of high status, deceased female ancestors, goddesses, and monsters. Hrothgar’s queen Wealhtheow is called an ides in Beowulf (620, 1168)—but so is Grendel’s mother (1259). Goddesses can be called dísir: Freyja is Vanadís, “dís of the Vanir”; Skadi is ǫndurdís, “dís of skis”; and Hel is jódís, “dís of horses.” The valkyries are described as Herjans dísir, “Odin’s dísir” (Guðrúnarkviða I 19) as well as Herjans nǫnnur, “Odin’s women” (Vǫluspá 30). 

The best-known story of the dísir is that from Þáttr Þiðranda ok Þórhalls, included in the version of Óláfs saga Tryggvasonar found in Flateyjarbók.

At a certain Winternights feast, a man called Thorhall has a foreboding that someone will die that night, and says that no one should go out. But Thidrandi, the son of Thorhall’s guest Hall, hears voices at the door in the middle of the night, and disobeys Thorhall: He took a sword in hand and went outside. He saw no one. 

It occurred to him that some guests must have ridden up to the farm and then ridden back to find those who were riding more slowly. 

He came to the woodpile and heard the sound of riding in the pasture, coming from the north. He saw that there were nine women; they were all wearing black clothes and holding drawn swords in their hands. He also heard the sound of riding in the pasture coming from the south. There were nine more women, all in white clothes and riding white horses. 

Thidrandi wanted to turn back inside and tell the people what he saw, but the black-clad women blocked his way and attacked him. He defended himself bravely. Much later, Thorhall awoke and asked whether Thidrandi was awake, and he got no answer. Thorhall said they must be too late. 

They went outside. The moon was shining and the weather was frosty. They found Thidrandi lying wounded, and he was carried inside. And when men spoke with him, he told them everything that had happened. 

He died at dawn that day, and he was laid in a mound according to heathen custom. . . . Hall asked Thorhall what this incredible event could possibly mean. 

Thorhall replied, “I don’t know, but I can guess that these women must have been none other than the fetches (fylgjur) of your son. I suppose that a change in custom is coming here, and better ways will come to our land. I think that these dísir of yours, who have followed the old ways, must have found out about the change. Because of it, you both would become lost kinsmen to them. They must not have been content to receive no offerings from you now, and they must have taken him as their due. The better dísir must have wanted to help him, but they couldn’t manage it with things as they are. Now you and your kinsmen will benefit from them, when what they foreshadow and accompany has come to pass.” (transl. Waggoner, “The Tale of Thidrandi and Thorhall,” Idunna 101, p. 29) 

Here we see that the same women are called both fylgjur, “fetches,” and dísir. The dark dísir are specifically said to receive offerings from their living kin, and they are threatened by the possibility that their descendants could become “lost kinsmen.” This makes it clear that these women are ancestors.

At the other end of life, the dísir call their kin when it is time for them to die, as in Atlamál 10, or even bring about death directly, as in the story of Thidrandi. Like Thidrandi, Gísli Súrsson (Gísli the Outlaw) sees both bright and dark female spirits as his death grows nearer. Two draumkonur, “dream women” appear to him in dreams. The bright woman advises him, foresees the end of his life, and promises to marry him after his death. The dark woman threatens him, washes him in blood, and claims him for herself, giving him such a terror of the dark that he could not bear to be alone at night (Gísla saga Súrssonar 22, 24, 30, 33). 

Although the writer of this saga has given the story a Christian slant, the image of a bright and helpful dís contrasted with a dark and ominous dís is likely to be Heathen. Dísir are usually protective, a person is doomed if the dísir turn against him. 

Mound Alfs and Ancestors

The words elf (English), álfr (ON), and Alp (modern German) go back to a root that was something like *albiz in Proto-Germanic, probably meaning “white; shining; gleaming” (de Vries, Altnordisches Etymologisches Wörterbuch, p. 5). 

Freyr Yngve is certainly linked to the alfs; Grímnismál 5 states that he received Alfheim as a “tooth-fee” (tannfé), a gift traditionally given to an infant when the first tooth comes in. 

Unfortunately for those who like things nice and neat, different peoples at different times had different views of what “alf ” actually meant.

In both Old Norse sources and Scandinavian folklore, the dead are sometimes called álfar, especially those dead that still dwell in their mounds. 

We catch glimpses of their worship in sources like Landnámabók (H19; ÍF 1, p. 59), where it is said that Thorstein Butter’s grandfather, Grímr kambann, blótinn var dauðr fyrir þokkasæld, “was worshipped when he was dead because he was well-liked;” and in Saxo’s History of the Danes VII.246, transl. Fisher, p. 225), where Haldan is told by oracles that he will not father a son until he sacrifices to his dead brother’s spirit. Landnámabók (S97; ÍF 1, p. 140) mentions the belief of the people of Hvammr in Iceland that they would “die into the hillocks.”

In some cases, the dead in these hills or mounds were called alfs: a field with many prehistoric burial mounds in Hardanger, Norway, is still called Alvavoll, “Field of Álfar” (Nordland, “Valhall and Helgafell,” p. 79). 

In Óláfs þáttr Geirstaðaálfs, a story within the Saga of Óláfr Tryggvason preserved in Flateyjarbók and several other manucripts, King Óláfr Guðrøðson of Vestfold foresees a plague, which will not end until he himself dies and is buried in a mound. 

He also foresees that people will worship him when he is dead. What he predicts comes true: after a terrible plague devastates the people, Óláfr dies and is buried in a mound, receives sacrifices, and becomes known as Óláfr Geirstaðaálfr, “Olaf, the Alf of Geirstad.” 

Honoring the álfar and the dísir and the beloved dead.

Honoring the dead is one of the oldest practices that we can document in our tradition. Ritualized burials and offerings of grave-goods go back to the Stone Age. 

Food and drink have been buried with the dead, and deposited at their burial sites, even before the appearance of Homo sapiens.

In the Bronze Age and early Iron Age, holy stones still known as “offering stones” (German Opfersteine, Swedish offerstenar) were marked with small round depressions, called älvkvarnar or “alf-mills” in Swedish. 

As Davidson observes (Gods and Myths, pp. 155-156): In the fertility religion, the emphasis is not so much on a world of the gods to which man attains after death if he fulfills certain conditions as on the importance of the veneration of dead ancestors, and the need or the living to remember them at various feasts and festivals, to visit their graves, and perhaps to sit on their burial mounds for wisdom and inspiration. 

Legends of the peace kings coming over the sea and bequeathing their rule after a while to a successor play a significant part, as we saw earlier, among the traditions associated with the Vanir. Such legends emphasize the importance of rebirth rather than resurrection or life in a realm of the gods away from the earth.

Worshipping Ancestors: Dísir and Álfar 

But maintaining the bonds of love and caring between ancestors and their descendants is an important part of Heathenry. Think about how your ancestors would appreciate being treated, and use that to develop your practice. People often gather pictures of ancestors they have known and loved and display them on a table or a convenient piece of wall. This is a perfectly Heathen thing to do, and it can provide a focal point for meditation and offerings. 

Some Heathens leave offerings of their ancestors’ favorite foods or drinks—Grandpa’s favorite whiskey, the cookies that Grandma used to bake, or something like that. 

A common practice is to prepare a meal of the foods that your ancestors would have enjoyed—perhaps using old family recipes, if you’re lucky enough to know some—and offer a serving to your ancestors while feasting on the rest yourself. 

Visiting and tending ancestors’ graves, and leaving flowers or other offerings there, are also very appropriate for Heathens.

But ways to honor ancestors are as diverse as families are. Some people may not know who their ancestors were—for example, if they were adopted or fostered at a young age. Others, unfortunately, come from families where none of their known ancestors are worthy of honor—for example, if there was a long family history of abuse. 

You’re not required to honor an ancestor who hurt you or was otherwise unworthy. You can always choose to honor “ancestors of spirit”: people who have shaped your mind and heart in positive ways. 

These might be good adoptive parents or other caregivers, beloved teachers, founders of groups you belong to (such as military units), heroes who inspire you, authors and artists whose work has strongly affected your thinking, and so on. 

Heathens can also honor ancestors in a general way, invoking a single “great ancestor” spirit that represents the whole spirit of their family, profession or vocation. Not any one individual, but the spirit of goodness itself that has flowed through countless generations before you and will continue to many generations after you.