the concubine thereby also advanced politically. Furthermore, it is interesting to discuss
the possibilities of women independently establishing relations like friendship and
concubinage, in which the man was equal or subordinate.
As stated above, medieval women were subordinate to men, to their fathers, brothers
and finally their husbands. However, the sagas show several examples of women who
go against their husbands, who take political decisions without consulting them,
who divorce their husbands and act independently. These examples in most cases are
women who in fact are socially superior to their husbands, and the saga-writers use this
difference in social standing as an explanation for the women’s behaviour.
Another explanation, which even clarifies the shifting opportunities of women in
other societies and periods, is that women can take a man’s place in his absence, but have
to withdraw when he returns. Nonetheless, none of the famous ‘strong’ women in Old
Norse literature are concubines. The position of the concubine was unavoidably less
secure than the official wife’s. Besides being subordinate to her ‘man’ as well as father
and brothers, on grounds of gender, the concubine was even subordinate in social
standing. This no doubt affected her position and possibilities of interference in politics
as well as her possibilities of deciding her own future. Thus Ragnheiður Þórhallsdóttir
was nothing but a mere object in the conflict between her lover Jón Loftsson and her
brother bishop Þorlákur, and doubtlessly wasn’t able to affect the choice of her future
husband. When Sturla Sighvatsson got married, his concubine was sent home to her
father. And although Gissur Þorvaldsson is said to have loved his concubine dearly,
neither she nor her sister, the concubine of Þorgils skarði, are made visible in the saga.
An obvious explanation of the lack of ‘strong concubines’ may be that Sturlunga saga
focuses on the political struggle of the twelfth and thirteenth centuries where the main
actors of course were men. Thus it is difficult to get a clear picture of the concubine’s
status. However, there was probably a difference in rank between concubines of married
and unmarried chieftains. Hence even if Sæmundur Jónsson had several concubines, he
also gave them responsibility for his various households, and after his death at least two
of his concubines had the same status as widows, which besides being economically
independent, meant the possibility of deciding the future marriages of their children
(Sturlunga saga I: 299 ). In that way these women, in theory, were able to effect the
founding of new political alliances. Even if in Sturlunga saga we get a few glimpses of
women seemingly independently involved in social networks, only Þórdís Snorradóttir,
one of Snorri Sturluson’s illegitimate daughters, seems to achieve public acknowledge-
ment as a leader. After the death of Þórdís’ husband, Snorri attempted to take control
over his daughter and grandson, but failed. Þórdís never married again, but took two
lovers and had one child with each of them. She obviously created her own alliances and
acted as a politician until her son was old enough to take his inheritance. By that time
Þórdís also withdrew from her former role, as she was now the mother of a man who had
reached adulthood and was ready and willing to see to his own rights. And, according to
tradition, the woman retired.^3
Sturlunga saga reveals a society familiar to the authors. Sturla Þórðarson, who is the
author of the largest part of the compilation, describes events and conflicts he and his
close relatives took part in. Þórdís Snorradóttir, mentioned above, was his cousin, and it
is not unlikely that he admired her for how she had stood up to her father. Sturla’s
brother, Ólafur hvítaskáld, has been pointed out as a possible author of Laxdæla saga,
in which we meet one of the most famous characters in the saga world, Guðrún
–– Auður G. Magnúsdóttir––