"You will be paid for like any other free man... You will be paid for in blood." (64)
This quotation is perhaps the most recognizable from Njal's Saga and even operates as a supertitle for the back cover of many editions, including the Penguin Classics version translated by Robert Cook. The classic George Webbe Dasent translation, available at Project Gutenberg, gives us a taste of just how much leeway a translator has in bringing deciding on style or voice: "Thou shalt be atoned for as a free man... man for man, shall be taken for thee."
Njal's servant Atli was a free man before coming into Njal's service. When he decides to bear the high likelihood that Hallgerd will seek vengeance by killing him after he commits Bergthora's task, he is effectively giving up his life. This happens many times in the saga, so a wise character in this world would be sure to avoid such certain fate. But of course one's honor is always on the line as well. This invites the question, 'is it better to live a somewhat dishonored life or to die for someone else's cause?' The saga doesn't really contemplate this question so much as it asserts the latter option as the end of an honorable life.
In Atli's case, this is not the typical course of compensation. A dead servant is paid for in silver, or sometimes not at all. The recourse for killing a free man is the only killing that is supposed to involve blood vengeance. However, the saga of the burning of Njal involves quite a bit more than a lifetime's worth of blood vengeance in medieval Iceland.
"The nose is near to the eyes, brother." (25)
This proverb comes up time and again throughout the saga and is the mark of prescience for whoever says it. The meaning can be boiled down to: 'what involves those close to us involves us as well.' Indeed, kinship plays a large role in legal settlements and even compensation. The Sigfussons are Flosi's nose in the end, just as Kari becomes the nose of the Njalssons.
In this particular instance, Hrut is responding to Hoskuld's reasoning that he was not in any way responsible for the killing of Osvif's son and furthermore spoke out against it. But as a wise person, Hoskuld knows that it is reasonable for Osvif to seek compensation however he can. Hoskuld's daughter was indeed the cause of Osvif's son's death, but Hoskuld doesn't want to admit it. Hrut must be confrontational about this matter for Hoskuld to accept the responsibility of compensation. Clearly, Hallgerd does not care about the nose being close to the eyes.
"It will occur to Hallgerd that he didn't die by his own hand." (62)
Most of the characters disdain cleverness and associate any form of ambiguity or insincere language as a device used only by less honorable individuals. Yet this is a saga about lawyers: clever use of language pushes the plot along just as much as killing does in many cases. Instead of telling the servants that he killed Kol, Atli allows Hallgerd's imagination to boil over thinking of how terrible the deed could have been. Of course this doesn't serve Atli very well in the end, despite the immediate gratification of his cleverness. Hallgerd has him killed, just as he suspected would happen.
"with law our land shall rise, but it will perish with lawlessness." (117)
Njal is easily the best lawyer in Iceland, evidenced by the fact that he trained Thorgeir, who demonstrates his superior prowess before the Battle at Law Rock. In this instance, Njal is responding to Mord's suggestion that settlements have been broken in the past and so it would be justified for them to disregard the settlement and do what they please—the other party has already violated the terms, in fact. Njal knows that this is a slippery slope: once the law is ignored on the grounds that others have ignored the law, civilization itself will be in peril.
The saga espouses law as an imperfect solution to natural human brutality. While it doesn't seem to really solve any problems, it keeps full-blown violence at bay for daily life. It seems that the real solution might be a combination of law, respect for the law, and clemency. Hoskuld was master of clemency and it served him well enough, even if he felt it unfair at times.
"He stayed at home for a while, and all was quiet." (118)
This recurring line tells us something about the saga's literary structure. For the most part, the plot stays at a distance from the moment-to-moment action, relying on seasons as a basic measuring unit. But there are two exceptions: battle and law. Whenever these two activities arise, we'll get the gritty details about how a leg was cut off, where somebody looked, what exactly they said, who was thought to be performing better, and whatever else may come up. The author did not find it interesting or relevant what Gunnar did aside from those times. If he travelled across Iceland to visit somebody, the author usually just summarizes it as such rather than discussing what happened each day. So too with daily life at home. While a modern reader may be interested to know what Gunnar's home circumstances were like—e.g., how does he train to be such a good warrior? what does he eat? who does he speak with on a daily basis?—apparently these details were not interesting to the author or contemporary readers. This cultural de-emphasis in itself is intriguing, though perhaps it would be even more intriguing to find out the answers to those questions.
"Helgi looked at him and spoke: 'You look to me like bad luck, and things will go better for the man who does not take up with you.' 'Then it's my wish,' said Hrapp, 'that you two have bad trouble because of me.'" (146)
Killer-Hrapp, as both his enemies and the narrator call him, is surely a devious man. His antagonism spreads from his actions (killing) to his words (wishing trouble on others). This dialogue is particularly interesting because this type of assessment based on appearance occurs throughout the saga. Somehow, characters in this story are able to determine what an individual's level of luck is just by looking at them. This happens with Mord Valgardsson and Skarphedin Njalsson, among many others. Mord is able to overcome his initial appearance with clever words, but Skarphedin is less equipped with persuasion. Instead, he burps out rollicking insults.
Helgi is wise in this instance to not take up with someone, but this kind of decision proves rare in the rest of the saga. More typically, the men are goaded into action when the perception of their manliness or honor is at stake. Only once does a man forego his manly duty because he is 'not a violent man'. By the look of most interactions, this would not be a valid excuse unless the man were truly well-loved for other reasons.
"Let's not exchange words with Hrapp, but just pay him a red skin for his grey one." (156)
Skarphedin's imagery doesn't disappoint. Red skin has become a symbol of vengeance in the form of bloody cloaks, hats, and fabrics, but it also represents the reddened skin around flesh wounds on the battle field. No doubt Skarphedin wishes to turn Hrapp red with blood.
The grey skin insults Hrapp's visage both physically and spiritually. He looks sickly and soulless.
But perhaps most importantly, this line points to a key theme for the saga. These medieval warriors are keen on fighting because death is a conclusive result. Settlements always leave room for error and involve a great deal of restraint. Skarphedin is a great warrior and wishes to do what he knows he can easily accomplish, rather than practicing civilized legal procedure.
"It's true that I would give everything I own if this matter had never arisen. But when evil seed has been sown, evil will grow." (192)
Flosi is trying to convince Thorgrim the Showy to ride with Ljot to the Thing. The evil seed he is talking about is the slaying of Hoskuld by the Njalssons, by way of Valgard and his son Mord's trickery. His words turn out to be extraordinarily accurate, as most of the named characters in the saga are dead by the end of this episode.
Flosi seems to be an honorable fellow for much of the saga before this episode, but it seems that the evilness has also been sewn in him. By hiring Eyjolf and bribing him at Law Rock, he was seen as arrogant and lost much respect. In fact, more than the legal process, Flosi's demeanor seemed to be most aggravating for Thorgeir.
One of Flosi's own kinsmen does give everything he owns so that Flosi will not be killed by the earl out in Orkney. But Flosi gets away with burning the Njalssons alive in their home, simply making a pilgrimage for his part of the settlement. It makes us question whether he would actually have given up all his possessions, since he gets away basically unharmed by this whole episode. The other burners, blind followers of Flosi, get banished from Iceland for life. Perhaps they would endorse the above quote more compellingly than Flosi, who comes off as nearly insincere.
"Flosi was so stirred that his face was, in turn, as red as blood, as pale as grass, and as black as Hel (sic.) itself." (195)
Hildigunn haunts Flosi when she throws the cloak Hoskuld was slain in around Flosi's shoulders. His reaction is perhaps the most vivid description of physical features in the entire saga. The cloak is already scarlet in color, but it is also shiny with the blood of death-wounds. To make matters worse, the cloak was a gift from Flosi to Hoskuld in the first place. There is no more woeful object in all the saga, because so many different things are tied up in it: the grief of a foster-father, the impact of the new religion on Iceland, the maliciousness of Hildigunn, the scarlet color of life-giving blood, and the list goes on.
"...it often turns out that those slain only with words live a long life." (278)
It's intriguing to observe the massive disconnect between the wisdom of the characters in the saga and their actions. While Kari knows on an intellectual level that he would be better off not pursuing blood vengeance, he feels utterly compelled to do it. Perhaps the reader can sympathize with the grief of a father who has lost his son, but it would be surprising if many readers would also kill anybody remotely responsible except for the one who masterminded the plot.
Bizarrely, while this quotation does seem to proffer wisdom, it turns out to be good for Kari that he pursued his revenge. He is too powerful a warrior to be stopped, and so the killing edge seems to be his if he wants it—and he does. This piece of wisdom also seems to go against the wisdom inherent in the killing of Hoskuld and Njal. These two men, like Jesus in the Bible, decided to accept the judgments of their peers without resistance, despite the foundations of bigotry underneath. It is up to the reader to decide whether Kari has spoken the truth or performed it.
