Terry has been reading Why Odin Drinks by Bjørn Larssen
4 out of 5 stars
I read the first episode of Bjørn Larssen’s (very) alternative Norse mythology, Creation, which is now incorporated into this book – this is good, because I was able to re-read it before embarking on the confused All-Father’s further adventures.
I think I would need to know a lot more about Norse mythology than I do in order to fully appreciate this, though I did look up bits and bobs here and there, which helped. The idea of portraying Odin as rather hesitant and not quite sure of his role as ultimate creator, is inspired. Problem is that he and all the other gods (and versions of Odin in the past, present and future) know about everything that will be (which seems logical, what with them being deities), but are not always sure whether items or concepts actually exist yet. Like Odin’s wife Frigg not being sure what a miniskirt is, but knowing she wants one.
‘What sort of tea will you have?”They haven’t discovered it yet,’ said Urðr. ‘He looks like the lapsang souchong type to me, though.’One of my favourite aspects was the occasional presence of ‘literature’.
She is an entity that whispers to Odin’s mind a piece of information pertaining to something that has just been said, such as ‘Loki is foreshadowing‘, but Odin cannot see her; he just hears the sound of her sneakers as she sprints away. I love that.
In parts 2-4 we meet many more gods – Loki, Freya and Freyr, and Frigg. Freya, goddess of love, beauty, fertility, sex, war and gold (pretty much all the most important things to a Norseman, one imagines) is portrayed as a sort of Paris Hilton type, which I thought was genius.
‘As he travelled, Odin thoroughly investigated people of all shapes and sizes, casually letting it slip that he was the All-Father’.
Some of the time the references went over my head because of my lack of knowledge of the subject, though other times I felt the prose needed a bit of tightening up; it seemed to career away with itself now and again. However, the good is very very good, and I also liked the pertinent observations about life and death, time and war, woven amongst the ridiculousness. And the ending. Clever. A light-hearted romp through Norse mythology, and a fitting development for Bjørn Larssen’s comedic talent!
Ever woken up being a God, but not knowing how to God properly?
Poor Odin must restrain his brothers, who create offensive weapons such as mosquitoes and celery; placate his future-telling wife, Frigg, who demands sweatpants with pockets; listen to Loki’s Helpful Questions; hang himself from Yggdrasil for nine days with a spear through his side (as you do); teach everyone about nutritional values of kale (but NOT celery); meet a Wise Dom, Sir Daddy Mímir, in order to outwit those who outwit him; and, most importantly, prove he is The All-Father, while his brothers are, at best, Those-Uncles-We-Don’t-Talk-About.
This nearly (except in Vanaheim) universally acclaimed retelling of the Gods’ first millennium answers way too many questions, including ones on Freyr’s entendre, horse designing… and why Odin drinks.
Georgia has been reading Creation by Bjørn Larssen
This book tells the tale of Odin waking up along with his two brothers, Vili and Vé, to find themselves Gods in a place that as yet has nothing. It should be a terrific opportunity to create loads of cool stuff, you’d think. However, Odin, and his brothers, have no idea what they are doing and come up with random things such as celery and mosquitoes instead. (I mean, who would ever choose to invent either of those!)
When Odin does manage to create something useful, a cow. They have no idea how to get milk out of it and the cow doesn’t hang around for long.
Creation is a short book and a pacey read. I enjoyed the humour and Larssen’s writing throughout and look forward to seeing what comes next.
In the beginning there was confusion.
Ever woken up being a God, but not knowing how to God properly? Your brothers keep creating mosquitoes and celery and other, more threatening weapons. What can your ultimate answer be – the one that will make you THE All-Father and them, at best, the All-Those-Uncles-We-Don’t-Talk-About?
Beneath the Veil is a dark urban fantasy story set in the US, book one of the Valor of Valhalla series. It opens with the dramatic aftermath of a road bridge collapse; David’s car is sinking into the Hudson river.
Watching the episode are a pair of supernatural beings; events get stranger when David is found upstream. He is taken to hospital but remains in a coma.
David’s girlfriend Rose works as a waitress; her shift is unusually quiet, but one customer is eating his way through the menu. When his behaviour turns nasty, horrors erupt which few could have anticipated. All around strange incidents are happening and people are disappearing.
David’s coma is also unnatural as he is gaining muscle and height, and his vital signs have the doctors excited about new medical history data.
The story provides the reader with a great mix of mythology and the supernatural, with a focus on Norse mythology. The narrative goes between David’s story from his position in a coma and the ‘real-world’ for his mother Chelsea, Rose and a retired detective. Of the two parts, I found that I preferred David’s adventures as they followed the mythological path, where the real world setting tended towards the horror genre.
I liked the Valhalla scenes particularly, while some of the journey to that point got a bit tedious. I wasn’t a fan of the constant mentioning of shows, films and books because I hadn’t seen or read them, so certain references meant nothing to me. A few times I thought that David came across as rather too perfect; even a hero needs to stay believable. However, these were just small issues.
Overall, a good start to a series and one recommended for fans of Norse mythology.
In a battle between two ancient evils, can one naïve young man become the last hope against powerful creatures of legend?
David Dolan thinks he’s already got the world figured out. But when a collapsed bridge plunges him into the icy Hudson, he’s pulled deep into the deadly realm that exists between life and death. And with his earthly form trapped in a coma, he’s vulnerable to the horde of demons hell-bent on his utter destruction.
Traversing the road to the afterlife, David seeks the wisdom and skills he needs to fight the demonic forces reigning havoc on his allies above ground. But as one hellish threat closes in on his defenseless body, David must defeat another terrifying fiend waiting in the shadows to use him…
Can David escape the world beneath the veil in time to stop the bloodshed?
I read Bjørn Larssen’s debut novel, Storytellers, which made some references to Norse gods and featured a certain subtle humour in places. I also read his second novel, Children, which is about the children of Norse gods and contains far more funny bits. I’ve read many of his blog posts and follow him on Twitter; the conclusion I’ve come to is that Mr Larssen is a terrific comedic writer, first and foremost, so I’m delighted that he’s actually written A FUNNY BOOK!
Creation is a novella, a slim paperback (beautifully presented), is hilarious, and made me laugh out loud on several occasions, which books rarely do. It’s about Odin and his brothers, Vili and Vé, creating the world. Except they’re not very good at it and don’t really understand what they’re doing. They wonder how to get the food out of Audhumla the cow, why words like ‘anvil’ ‘laptop’ and ‘algebra’ keep popping into their heads, how the flying water happened and why the wolf bit off the peacock’s head. Odin discovers that, along with man and woman, he has created irony.
I think it’s the sort of book you find screamingly funny or you don’t, depending on your sense of humour. I echo the words of Bjørn’s husband, when he finished reading it: ‘When can I get more?’
In the beginning there was confusion.
Ever woken up being a God, but not knowing how to God properly? Your brothers keep creating mosquitoes and celery and other, more threatening weapons. What can your ultimate answer be – the one that will make you THE All-Father and them, at best, the All-Those-Uncles-We-Don’t-Talk-About?
“In the beginning, a God opened his eyes and sat up, utterly confused.”
Thus opens Creation, Bjørn Larssen’s latest take on Norse mythology. Tongue firmly in cheek, this self-professed heathen riffs on godhood, omnipotence, and what would happen if a few drunk uncles went on a bender on the blank canvas of the universe.
Spoilers, they’d invent chickens.
And then they’d invent the ‘containers’ chickens give birth to.
Personally, my familiarity with Norse mythology leans heavily to the second generation and the escapades of our favorite Marvel Vikings, not the Allfather and his unruly brothers at the dawn of time, so I can’t speak to how closely Creation adheres to the original mythos. I can say that as someone new to the lore, I never felt lost.
Did Odin just describe a cow as wrapped in material for clothes, full of food on the inside, and capable of producing drink? Yes, and isn’t that a deliciously sideways way of viewing the first cow in existence?
Now if you’ll excuse us, Zaphod Beeblbrox and I will take a cut from shoulder in white wine sauce.
And the reviewer makes a deep cut Douglas Adams joke for no one but herself, her Dad, and maybe the author. She has a feeling Larssen might be a Hitchhiker’s fan.
Let go and roll with the madness, dear readers, because that is the kind of ride you are in for with Creation. Off-kilter in the best way possible, Creation is a book where the punches (and punchlines) just keep coming. Peopled by three gods trying to fumble their way into creating everything, and a cow that’s pretty certain she wants to keep the food inside her on the inside, Larrsen has a page turner on his hands. At under 70 pages, Creation is short enough to read in a single sitting, but worth savoring for those of us who like to mull over our comedy a bit.
Or read it in one go and be eager for more. Apparently this is only the first in a whole series called Why Odin Drinks— if most of his days are like the ones described by Larssen, I don’t blame him!
5/5
In the beginning there was confusion.
Ever woken up being a God, but not knowing how to God properly? Your brothers keep creating mosquitoes and celery and other, more threatening weapons. What can your ultimate answer be – the one that will make you THE All-Father and them, at best, the All-Those-Uncles-We-Don’t-Talk-About?
Draca is a wonderful tale that combines many different elements and weaves them together to make a satisfying story; not an easy book to categorize so it will have wide appeal. I started reading Draca on the Pigeonhole app and got so engrossed, I requested it from Rosie’s Book Review Team
list as well.
Jack is a former officer in the Royal Marines with PTSD, and a life-altering injury, trying to get his life back on an even keel. He was close to his grandfather, Eddie, who has recently died and left most of his estate to Jack. To say this does not go down well with Jack’s father, Harry, and his sister, Tilly, would be an understatement. Their mercenary attitude and sense of entitlement beggars belief especially as they had not cared much about Eddie when he was alive.
Add to this Jack’s faltering marriage to Charlotte, the rift between him and his family, and his embryonic relationship with George and you have the makings of a real page-turner. Told in the third person from the points of view of Jack, Harry and George we can see the story from all angles.
Interspersed with the narrative are extracts from Eddie’s diaries and the Norse Saga of King Guthrum which help to explain Eddie’s weird behaviour in the months before his death. The history of the Saxons and Vikings is not something I know much about, but I am now interested in finding out
more. The supernatural element is done with a light touch and seemed perfectly plausible; at times Draca does seem to be a malign influence with a mind of her own.
I loved reading about the sailing without actually having to get on a boat – it’s not something I would ever be brave enough to do, especially as I get really seasick. I don’t think it matters if you understand sailing terminology or not, when Jack takes the vintage sailing cutter out on the open
sea, the writing is thrilling and you can almost feel the spray on your face.
This is not the sort of book I would normally read, but I’m so glad I did. Beautifully written and well researched, with fully fleshed out characters, some sympathetic and others not, I thoroughly recommend that you give Draca a try.
Draca was a vintage sailing cutter, Old Eddie’s pride and joy. But now she’s beached, her varnish peeling. She’s dying, just like Eddie.
Eddie leaves Draca to his grandson Jack, a legacy that’s the final wedge between Jack and his father. Yet for Jack, the old boat is a lifeline. Medically discharged from the Marines, with his marriage on the rocks, the damaged veteran finds new purpose; Draca will sail again. Wonderful therapy for a wounded hero, people say.
Young Georgia ‘George’ Fenton, who runs the boatyard, has doubts. She saw changes in Old Eddie that were more sinister even than cancer. And by the time Draca tastes the sea again, the man she dares to love is going the same way. To George, Jack’s ‘purpose’ has become ‘possession’; the boat owns the man and her flawed hero is on a mission to self-destruct. As his controlling and disinherited father pushes him closer to the edge, she gives all she has to hold him back.
And between them all, there’s an old boat with dark secrets, and perhaps a mind of its own.
The Draca is a vintage sailing cutter built in 1905. Her owner is Eddie Ahlquist, an old man dying of cancer. She lies beached at a marina, slowly falling to the ravages of time as her owner also fails. Eddie’s grandson, Jack, is a former Marine in his Her Majesty’s armed services, who has returned from service in the middle East minus a foot and part of his leg, beset with PTSD, and carrying a load of guilt from the deaths of two of his fellow Marines, one who died with him and one who died trying to rescue him. Jack is the one member of the dysfunctional Alquist family who truly cares for Eddie and he tries to spend as much time with him as possible.
Eddie has earned the epithet ‘Mad Eddie” because of his wild sailing of Draca before he became too ill to continue. He had found a four-foot-long piece of ancient timber carved into the neck and head of a snarling dragon which he made into the figurehead for Draca. The figurehead now sits in his garden and Eddie talks to it when Jack is not around, thinking he sees the outline of a huge, looming figure coming through the trees toward his cottage.
When Eddie dies, Jack inherits Draca as well as his grandfather’s cottage, his diaries, and his library of Viking literature. Jack’s father, an overbearing and greedy man with whom Jack has an adversarial relationship for his entire life, does not understand why Eddie’s estate did not go to him and vows to fight Eddie’s will in court.
Jack moves into the cottage while the will is in probate and, with a suggestion that restoring the Draca might help him with his lasting emotional and physical problems, takes out loans against Eddie’s estate. He immediately dives into the difficult work of bringing Draca back to her original condition. As he does, the serpent figurehead seems to capture his psyche as it had his grandfather, and he also sees the looming figure amongst the trees. He is drawn to the figurehead and Draca as if they both have a hold on him.
This is a terrific book on many levels: the struggles of a veteran with physical and emotional baggage for the time of his service; the warped interactions of a family with a bully for a father and husband; Jack’s own crumbling marriage; the exhilaration of sailing, especially on this old, restored schooner; a developing love between Jack and a young woman, George, who runs the boatyard where Draca is moored; and the growing hold of Draca and the figurehead on Jack. There is also interspersed between the chapters excerpts from what is clearly a Viking story, the ‘saga of King Guthrum,’ with a strong indication that the figurehead derives from a Viking ship in the saga and that it is cursed. Will figurehead claim Jack’s life to satisfy the curse?
The characters are wonderfully created. Jack is a finely tuned rendering of a veteran with PTSD, old Eddie is both loveable and frightening in his final madness, and Harry, Jack’s father, is a villain – perhaps a little heavy-handed, but still believable. George is at the same time both incredibly naïve (she doesn’t recognize when Charlotte, Jack’s wife, tries to draw her into a lesbian affair and that left me scratching my head) and equally brave, as she tries to heal Jack and at the end risks her own life to save him in a horrific storm at sea.
As a sailor, all the descriptions of sailing and the rigging and sails of Draca, especially at sea and in the wind, were both familiar and exciting. This might not be so for someone who has never sailed, although I believe any reader can loosely follow the action. Having the drawing of Draca for reference was a good help.
In short, this is a rollicking tale, both down to earth and also unearthly, combining many elements into a fine story. I strongly recommend it.
Draca was a vintage sailing cutter, Old Eddie’s pride and joy. But now she’s beached, her varnish peeling. She’s dying, just like Eddie.
Eddie leaves Draca to his grandson Jack, a legacy that’s the final wedge between Jack and his father. Yet for Jack, the old boat is a lifeline. Medically discharged from the Marines, with his marriage on the rocks, the damaged veteran finds new purpose; Draca will sail again. Wonderful therapy for a wounded hero, people say.
Young Georgia ‘George’ Fenton, who runs the boatyard, has doubts. She saw changes in Old Eddie that were more sinister even than cancer. And by the time Draca tastes the sea again, the man she dares to love is going the same way. To George, Jack’s ‘purpose’ has become ‘possession’; the boat owns the man and her flawed hero is on a mission to self-destruct. As his controlling and disinherited father pushes him closer to the edge, she gives all she has to hold him back.
And between them all, there’s an old boat with dark secrets, and perhaps a mind of its own.
I didn’t know Geoffrey Gudgion before I read this novel, but the description and the cover called me (a bit worrying when I think about it after finishing the book), and my reward was a fantastic read that combines many elements likely to interest a large variety of readers. Draca, the vessel of the title, is a haunting presence throughout the book. Old Eddie, its owner, was fascinated by old Norse mythology and his Viking heritage, and there are fragments from the Saga of King Guthrum (c a AD 875) heading each new chapter and telling a fascinating story of the Vikings’ incursions into Britain and their battles with the Saxons. This mythological background and the story of King Guthrum and his son Jarl Harald moves apace with the adventures of Draca and Jack, Eddie’s grandson and new owner of the sailing cutter. There are adventures that will delight those who love sailing (but also those who don’t. I haven’t done any proper sailing but have a soft spot for books and movies set at sea, and I’m sure I’m not the only one. Let me clarify that although there is ample evidence of knowledge and research on the topic of sailing, no expertise is required to enjoy the novel). The characters, and especially the relationship between the male members of the Ahlquist family, make for fascinating reading, as we have parents and sons of different generations with complex love-hate relationships, and they relive their conflicts on and off the ship.
Other themes are also explored and add to the overall interest of the novel: Jack, the main protagonist of the story, was a decorated Royal Marine who was severely wounded during the war, and now suffers from PTSD and is finding it difficult to adjust to civilian life. His flashbacks and his account of his experiences are realistic and compelling (not surprising when we take into account the author’s background), and it makes him a particularly sympathetic character. We also have romance (although the two characters seemed made for each other from the beginning, and I’m sure most readers will enjoy it, considering the background of both characters it seemed a bit too perfect for me, especially if readers are expecting a standard horror story); a woman with a gift for healing and for sensing things about people; and a paranormal element that I felt worked very well.
I think the description offers more than enough information about the plot, and I want to avoid spoilers. I think this novel cuts across a few genres. There are very realistic elements, in particular those depicting the psychological state of the characters, PTSD and obsession; there are also mythological and fantastical elements; paranormal/horror elements; sailing adventures; family relationships (a family saga, to a point); and a romance (there is some sex, but it is pretty mild and not very explicit, and people who follow my review know I don’t like erotica, so…). If I had to choose, I enjoyed the mythological/fantastical aspects of the story, the sailing adventure, and the realistic aspects, especially the relationship between the men, the most.
I have mentioned some of the characters already. The story is narrated in the third person, each chapter usually following the point of view of one of the main characters (Harry, Old Eddie’s son and Jack’s father, not a particularly likeable character and not somebody who evolves much during the novel, but he is not all bad either; Jack; and George, the main female character, who runs the boatyard and seems to combine characteristics of the caring female who would do anything for her man, with an independent and wise woman who tries hard to keep trouble at bay), interspersed with the Saga of King Guthrum and also, especially at the beginning, with fragments of Eddie’s diary, which help us understand more about the man and about Draca. We also meet Charlotte (Charlie), Jack’s wife, who is a very intriguing character, but her story is not developed in a lot of detail (and we don’t see things from her point of view), not is that of Jack’s mother, who seems to be an old-fashioned housewife and hardly has a voice of her own. We don’t see enough of Tilly, Jack’s sister, for her to play a part in the story (other than being a hindrance at times).
The writing is excellent. There are beautiful descriptions of sailing, not only of the act of sailing but also of the emotions it creates, and as I’ve said already, the psychological experiences of the characters, particularly of Jack are rendered in such a way that we can’t help but feel as if we were there, sharing in his anguish and feelings. There are lyrical passages that made me reread them again, and this is a book that combines an absorbing story that makes you keep turning the pages with a style of writing that demands to be savoured an enjoyed. I’ve highlighted many fragments, but I thought I’d share a couple to give you some idea of what to expect:
When the tide was just on the ebb it sucked at the beach below the cottage, a soft susurration at the limit of hearing. In the pre-dawn darkness it sounded like whispering, so human that he strained to distinguish the words.
Draca was a bit like some men she’d met who were handsome on the outside and dangerous on the inside. In that way, Draca was the opposite of Jack. He was dangerous on the outside but probably dead gentle on the inside, like he was wearing a suit of armour, or a shell, like a crab.
The ending… I think the author has managed to pull quite a trick there, because all the different elements come to a satisfactory ending (no, I’m not saying happy), and I enjoyed it, for sure. And it does not leave us hanging, so people who don’t appreciate cliff-hangers don’t need to worry… much.
The author mentions his sources (people and books) in his acknowledgments, and I was particularly happy to learn about Unbound, the first crowdfunding publisher, which made the book possible. The book also includes a list of supporters and patrons, and I will try to keep track of their future projects.
In brief, a great read, that I’d recommend to people interested in male family relationships, PTSD, and who don’t mind a touch of the paranormal and romance. Fans of sailing stories and those who love Norse mythology and Old Saxon history will enjoy it even more. There are some chilling and eerie moments, but the horror, such as it is, is mostly psychological, so this should not put off people who usually avoid the genre. I won’t forget Draca in a long time, and I’m sure if you read it you won’t, either.
Draca was a vintage sailing cutter, Old Eddie’s pride and joy. But now she’s beached, her varnish peeling. She’s dying, just like Eddie.
Eddie leaves Draca to his grandson Jack, a legacy that’s the final wedge between Jack and his father. Yet for Jack, the old boat is a lifeline. Medically discharged from the Marines, with his marriage on the rocks, the damaged veteran finds new purpose; Draca will sail again. Wonderful therapy for a wounded hero, people say.
Young Georgia ‘George’ Fenton, who runs the boatyard, has doubts. She saw changes in Old Eddie that were more sinister even than cancer. And by the time Draca tastes the sea again, the man she dares to love is going the same way. To George, Jack’s ‘purpose’ has become ‘possession’; the boat owns the man and her flawed hero is on a mission to self-destruct. As his controlling and disinherited father pushes him closer to the edge, she gives all she has to hold him back.
And between them all, there’s an old boat with dark secrets, and perhaps a mind of its own.
Book reviewer and garden enthusiast. Updates from my Hampshire garden. Usually talking about books and plants. People do not forget books or flowers that touch them or excite them—they recommend them.
Everything I know about gardening I've learnt from a combination of my mum, Carol Klein and Monty Don. My garden is a tiny 2x3m yard requiring a lot of TLC...
![Creation: Humorous Norse Mythology Retelling (Why Odin Drinks Book 1) by [Bjørn Larssen]](https://www.amazon.co.uk/images/I/51Pig54T8nL._SY346_.jpg)
Rosie Amber 