The Mortuary Dimensions of the Final Season of a Viking Saga
As the final blog-post on the popular Viking series Vikings Valhalla, I review the mortuary archaeology dimensions of series 3 (2024) in the context of the previous series and its forerunner Vikings, as well as the history and archaeology of the Viking world. The airing of the third and final series of Vikings Valhalla marks the end of an era for the original series Vikings (2013-2020) and this spin-off (2022-2024). These shows have served to re-envision legendary tales inspired by the ‘Vikings’ for 21st-century audiences.
We are taken from the late 8th and 9th centuries of early raiding and larger military invasions, conquest and settlement on a much-condensed timeline in the original series and then jump the early 11th century North Sea empire of Cnut and the adventures of Harald Sigurdsson, Freydis Eriksdottir and Leif Eriksson in the successor series. In total, 24 episodes of Vikings Valhalla were produced and I have reviewed the ‘Archaeodeath’ dimensions of series 1 and series 2 in earlier posts. The airing of series 3 Vikings Valhalla marks the end of an era for this blog too. This is because my reviews of both series have been a substantial dimension of my digital engagement since 2015.
In doing so, I have often commended the creative and insightful uses of medieval legendary and mythological sources as well as the widespread influence of archaeological interpretations of Viking-period material culture, architecture and landscape, to craft a ‘Viking world’ for modern audiences. Having said that, I have been less than impressed, levelling criticisms at, not only the accuracy of the show but also about its promotion of stereotypes and misconceptions of the Viking Age and its peoples both old and freshly crafted.
Focusing on the mortuary archaeology aspects, I recognise specific positive and negative dimensions. In positive regards, I see the shows together as reconfiguring popular perceptions and engagements with mortality and remembrance among early medieval peoples – both pagan and Christian and crucially the many intersections between them and others. The diversity and complexity of death rituals are represented here unlike never before. More negatively, I believe the shows conjure a fantastical representation of Norse paganism and their mortuary practices and beliefs that is overreliant on the scholarship of select modern academics and which detract from key dimensions of early medieval engagements with mortality through burial and commemoration as well as promoting fictional stylisations of Viking-period attitudes and practices surrounding death and the afterlife.
Overall, I believe it is too early to fully assess the entirety of both series and their positive and negative dimensions to popular (mis)understandings and engagement with the Viking period and its significance in today’s world. Still, I hope my series of posts, 55 in total including this one, provide a resource for students and scholars to consider how each series are part of our contemporary Vikingisms in which academic research has been an active constituent in its creation and dissemination. Evaluating such present-day Viking worlds are an integral part of what I consider ‘Public Viking Research’ – namely the exploration and critical evaluation of the Vikings in contemporary society.
Now, let us turn to the final series of Vikings Valhalla: what ‘archaeodeath’ dimensions appear? How are they rooted in historical and archaeological evidence? What are the implications for ‘our Vikings’ in the 21st century? There is the potential to write a whole raft of posts on individual aspects of this final season but here I will compile all of them into a single discussion. The overall point here is that, after six original series, and these three spin-off series, there are now replete internal cross-references to earlier ‘Viking funerals’ to the extent that the show is able to justify and consolidate its vision of a legendary Viking Age with confidence and clarity without recourse to any specific archaeological or historical sources: the ‘Viking world’ of Vikings/Vikings Valhalla has its own momentum now and will be cited by the uncritical and easily influenced for decades to come as an ‘authentic’ source!
Positive and Negative Dimensions
Upon the airing of the first series of Vikings, Professor Neil Price went to print declaring the representation ‘pretty good’ and in general terms I have agreed to some extent. But many commentators have subsequently denounced the representation of the Early Middle Ages as little more than a ‘sham’ and ‘fake’ and as such perpetuating misrepresentations that have deep-seated negative ramifications in contemporary society. Between these positions, I’ve tried to steer a more moderate course.
Viewing the last series, I would maintain that there remain many positive, accurate and educationally meritorious representations of the material culture of the Viking world in the show including buildings and things. The first general point is that the television shows have taken us on a long-term tour of a legendary Viking world that extends from Scandinavia and the North Atlantic to England and Frankia, the Rus, Byzantium and the Mediterranean: its connectivities, variabilities and diversities are represented in a fashion that introduces popular audiences to some dimensions of the world in which scholars can glean from our sources.
For instance, in series 3 we get to see 11th-century Constantinople from the air and on the ground as well as repeat visits to ever-changing settlements in Scandinavia, England and Normandy, as well as Sicily and Rome. Hence, this series as with previous ones embodies the mix of rich immersive world-building that is, in general terms, ‘true’ to later legendary sources and populated by (in many if not all cases) archaeologically informed styles and forms of material culture, ships and architecture.
Having said that, many fantastical and modern-era tropes enfuse the show. For example, Queen Aelfgifu wears antiquated pre-Viking jewellery while her son Magnus wears a modern-era ‘troll cross’. The attention given to the ‘Web of Wyrd’ symbol discussed in earlier seasons is perpetuated on ‘pagan’ material culture at Jomsborg. The aesthetic focus on needless amounts of untrimmed fur and leather clothing with pointless studs are a stock-in-trade of this modern-Viking aesthetic, just as modern ‘Viking-inspired symbols are a key. Yet more problematic than any of these is the idea of Leif Eriksson as a scholar learning from Muslim and Christian science and map-making to inspire his voyage to the ‘new world’. In doing so, we extend the romanticised vision of Floki as a pagan exile seeking a ‘promised land’ for his anti-Christian utopia.
Therefore, in terms of both aesthetics and representation of seaborne exploration, there are persistent orientalist and valorised modern-myths promoted and perpetuated by the show that require extensive unpacking and critique.
Mass Cremations in Jomsborg
Let us now turn to three specific mortuary dimensions that capture the mixture of fact and fiction represented in the show. Freydis continues to live and lead the pagan enclave of Jomsborg. There are a triad of themes that merit our attention in the presentation of the mass cremation of those poisoned within the settlement by cereals acquired by trade at Kattegat: a deliberate act of mass-murder by the son of Olaf Haraldsson, Harald.
In the original series, we witness the beach as a place for mass-cremation at Kattegat – one of a diversity of strategies for disposing and commemorating the dead, here inspired the necessity of a plague. Here, as with the war dead of Ragnar’s raid on Wessex, we see floating pyres utilised piled high with corpses and pushed out into Jomborg’s harbour, as a means of mass emergency disposal of the dead. In earlier series, mass-cremations are seen happening over water but also on land – by inhumation and by cremation. Here, the bodies are shrouded, perhaps with sail cloth, as with previous mass death scenarios represented. Dried flowers are a key component of the funeral rafts. A distance view from the cliffs above shows multiple pyre-rafts prepared around the edges of the harbour. A sombre funeral song plays but other ceremonies are abrupt. There is no animal sacrifice or celebration given the dire and unexpected evidences. Mourners cry and huddle in small groups. The rafts with burning bodies float out of the fortress over still water, so reaching outside the walls of the defended harbour, others remaining within.
This mass-cremation continues the tradition of Vikings and Vikings Valhalla of showing every funeral as different in scale and structure – steered very much by circumstances and environment as well as the number and social identity of those mourned and commemorated. In this regard, in itself and as part of a theme, the diversity of deathways in the Viking world is articulated and extended by the show. Again, as discussed before, this specific form of ‘death over water’ is completely unevidenced. Still, more open-minded archaeologists such as myself do not discount completely the possibility that some categories of the Viking-period population might have been burned over, or their cremains immersed in, water. In the context of this pagan enclave, however, the mass-cremation practice serves to articulate the idea that the inhabitants shared identity and afterlife destination aspired for by the wider community: a religious unity in death. This contrasts them with the Christian world that has surrounded them and threatens to engulf them. The overtly ‘pagan’ nature of cremation is articulated here – a motive and theme that has been discussed and promoted by archaeologists and historians of the Viking diaspora to consider instances of overtly non-Christian funerary practice maintained by Scandinavian/Norse-influenced communities as in late 9th-century Derbyshire at Heath Wood, Ingleby.
Deception and Cremation
Death as deception is a theme tackled previously in the original TV series Vikings. This is explored again in Vikings Valhalla series 3 via the mass-cremations’ aftermath. Freydis and the Jomsvikings set up the deception knowing they are now outnumbered and under threat from invasion by the Christian zealots of Harald Haraldson. The first element of their plan is to construct a memorial cairn by the jetty upon which a rune-carved stave commemorates the death of Freydis Eriksdottir. It is not clear if this is intended to represent a grave, but flowers and cereals are placed against it, as well as shields and a straw animal. This idea of memorial cairns reflects the widespread Scandinavian folk tradition of offerkast and echoes previous instances of offerings and modest markers to commemorate the dead away from their graves and near beaches/shores shown in earlier series. Of course, Freydis is alive, but the importance of shorelines, beaches, harbours and jetties as liminal spaces of life and death is emphasised – a prominent persistent theme in both shows.
The second aspect of funerary deception continues a theme identified in the original series of Vikings, namely cremation as concealment. When Harald and his Christians arrive they look on with apprehension and disgust at the half-burned remains of the dead on the pyres still floating in the harbour. Blackened unbroken skulls and charred flesh and clothing can be seen. This is a stark representation of a cremation pyre contrasting with the dramatic newly lit nighttime and daytime representations of previous funerals in each series. Flames still lapping around the charred logs, telling us that the process isn’t fully complete. On other pyres, the bodies have not been cremated at all – charred corpses lie atop the rafts. Cremation is here shown to be ineffective and partial and a stark engagement with the corpses of the dead, not their dissolution. This is instructive of what would actually happen if small ineffective fires were set upon corpses set adrift on rafts without tending or further treatment – a grisly partial immolation.
Whilst implausible on multiple grounds – the heat of still-smouldering and burning pyres, and likelihood the thinly covered bodies of living people would be spotted – the Jomsviking warriors hide amidst the partially cremated corpses upon the rafts where they had been burned to ambush the Christian invaders left in the settlement. Freydis and her followers then escape in one of Harald’s ships.
Encountering the Corpses of the Christian Dead
The second dimension of note in series 3 of Vikings Valhalla is the representation of the cult of saints in a common trope of our age: as a sham to extend and promote politically expedient motives of power-hungry Scandinavian would-be kings. This is far from fiction of course, but the deliberate attempt to retrieve the body of Olaf from Jomsborg after seven years, and then slaying and defacing a monk to be a ‘miraculous’ fresh corpse when Olaf’s body was found too decomposed for effective use as holy relics, takes things to ridiculous extremes.
Contrasting with the spiritual depth of pre-Christian belief, Christianity in this series is shown to be utterly bereft of faith or sincerity. This contrasts with the original series where the heartfelt spiritual and faith-based engagement with the supernatural and with fate are seen as strong connections shared between early medieval pagans and Christians. In any regard, what is truly miraculous is how a skeletonised body left above ground and rotting for seven years remains tied upright to a tree to be encountered by Harald years? A silver chain still hangs around his neck and his neck vertebrae are intact and somehow balance the skull and (weirdest of all) the jaw! That is actually a true miracle.
Regardless of the details, it is a gruesome engagement with the corpses of the dead within an early Christian context that is one among many attempts to show devotion and manipulation as part of the hunt for, creation and curation of saints’ relics. The second aspect of note here is the representation of the Jomsborgian pagans as using the forests as places of exposure: excarnation. Yet in contrast to the ‘respectful’ treatment of the pagan dead by laying them out with grave-goods, Olaf and other Christians are tied to the trees to disrespect them – their verticality seemingly articulating disdain and certainly contrasting with the treatment of the others. I don’t know where this specific idea hails from beyond the general association of the gibbeted dead of the modern era with disrespectful execution. Still, it represents another fashion in which the show creates its own rules to differentiate the honoured pagan dead with the Christian enemies of the pagans: a stark model of conversion by conflict that is overplayed in contemporary popular perceptions of the Viking Age to the point that it fuels racialised and religion-inspired hate in our time.
Cnut’s Fantastical Seafaring Funeral
The Christian funeral of Cnut ends the series: taking place at Winchester. An elaborate stone grave slab bearing a cross is lowered over his tomb. But in secret, Queen Emma enacts contrasting plans for Cnut’s corpse. Perhaps it was almost inevitable that the show had to give Cnut a ‘Viking funeral’ to meet audience expectations. Also, such obsequies reflect the character’s self-conscious vision of himself as a ‘Viking’ and claiming descent from Scandinavian heritage. In both regards, the show cannot resist and does not disappoint.
His Christian Norman wife, Emma, fulfills some unspoken request or her vision of her husband’s aspirations. Taking place in public, but away from the bustling Christian world, we are thus shown that Cnut’s Christian faith, and his Christian funeral at Winchester, are a deception and his body was never interred there! This representation of surface-level Christian conviction and deep-ties to the idea of being a ‘Viking’ and a pagan in the early 11th century has little grounding in our sources but captures both the self-conscious Danish dynasty’s creative ties to their Scandinavian heritage revealed in texts and material culture and the show’s desire to creative a ‘Viking identity’ for our age rooted in Scandinavian Nordic paganism.
Binding the Viking legacy to Britain and Cnut’s North Sea empire, the stunning if utterly fantastical visual is presented of a longship decked with flowers along its gunwhales, mast and rigging, grave goods including weaponry, decked in rich textiles, caskets and chests presumably full of treasures, food and drink, and the head of a sacrificed horse, ignited by a single arrow shot a ludicrous long distance from the tops of the White Cliffs of Dover by a local retainer whilst Queen Emma looks on. The ship is not incidental – it is Cnut’s ship – with cross inscribed on the prow as well as a terrifying lionine beast-head. This synergy of pagan and Christian encapsulates the culmination of the ‘Viking world’ in popular culture.
Audiences are being asked to cast their minds back to the funerals of the show in which the Greenlanders are cremated on the Thames, Lagertha is burned in an iced-over fjord, and burning the dead in a boat is seen as an iconic theatrical journey to a pagan afterlife. Similarly, they are being asked to see this as part of the theatre of proto-English royal funeral from whence continuous regal power has asserted its authority over England to our day. The scene is as ludicrous as it is compelling and what better way to close not only the story of Cnut but the 12 years of televisual Vikings both shows have given us! Whilst not as elaborate, in some fash
